The Rise, Fall and Rise of English Triple Crown Racing Speeds

A horse with a crimson “6” displayed on either side of its girth processes to the parade ring. There are people milling about, looking over “Six” as well as the other entrants for the 2013 running of the St. Leger Stakes. Alongside Six stands a very short, wiry man dressed in a matching crimson outfit. He speaks with the trainer in hushed tones, discussing race strategy. Six is alert; energy radiates from the tip of it’s brown and white snout to the end of its finely groomed tail. As the pair leave the ring and canter to the gate, Six snorts a couple of times as the gates are closed behind it. In short order, the other steeds are similarly lined up and a bell rings. And they’re off!

Speed

Horses are fast; according to the Guinness Book of World Records, the fastest average speed ever attained by a horse is 70.76 kph (43.97 mph) (1). That record was obtained over two furlongs (about 402 meters or 1/4 of a mile). For distances more comparable to Triple Crown racing, the fastest average speed over ~2.4 km (1.5 miles) is 60.86 kph (37.82 mph)1. It stands to reason that the longer the distance, the slower the average speed will be although the track surface has a large impact on this (see Table 1).

See the rest of this article from the author of Graph of the Week on Statistics Views.

The New Madrid Fault - Past, Present and Future

New Madrid, Territory of Missouri, March 22, 1816

Dear Sir,

In compliance with your request, I will now give you a history, as full in detail as the limits of the letter will permit, of the late awful visitation of Providence in this place and vicinity. 

On the 16th of December, 1811, about two o'clock, A.M., we were visited by a violent shock of an earthquake, accompanied by a very awful noise resembling loud but distant thunder, but more hoarse and vibrating, which was followed in a few minutes by the complete saturation of the atmosphere, with sulphurious vapor, causing total darkness. The screams of the affrighted inhabitants running to and fro, not knowing where to go, or what to do - the cries of the fowls and beasts of every species - the cracking of trees falling, and the roaring of the Mississippi - the current of which was retrograde for a few minutes, owing as is supposed, to an irruption in its bed -- formed a scene truly horrible.

[Remaining text of this letter not shown] 

Your humble servant,
Eliza Bryan

U.S. Soldiers Died from What?

Prior to WWII, the majority of soldiers died from disease and infection.

The Invisible Enemy Often Killed You Before Your Political Enemy

Imagine the scene: thousands of military men laying on cots, makeshift beds, or the floor - any place that was available was filled with a wounded soldier. Understand that these aren't the scratches you see in everyday life; rather, these are war wounds from heavy lead balls that shatter the bones of an arm or a leg. Take one into the gut or head and death was all but certain. This knowledge was not lost on the men of the Civil War as their screams echoed throughout the makeshift hospitals like the wails of the damned. It's not from lack of chloroform; no, it's from the horror of seeing a surgeon literally saw off a man's arm, tossing the lifeless appendage into a grotesque pile of discarded flesh on the floor. Or perhaps you scream in terror when the surgeon, facing you with a bloody saw as bits of human flesh hang off of it, quietly informs you that your leg is next to join the rotting mass.

March Madness! Wanna Win?

Description:
Winning percentage of all NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament Champions.


Analysis:
Down by one, the ball spins in his hand as he dribbles up the floor. With tennis shoes squeaking, he feints left, then right. Glancing up at the clock, he sees only five seconds left. Out of the corner of his eye, he spies a teammate break towards the basket. With a knowing glance he lobs the ball upward. The crowd, already standing, goes silent and everybody's eyes follow "the dime."  His teammate crouches like a panther and lurches upward. The ball floats into his hands while he twists his upper body, slamming it through the metal hoop with authority. Hanging onto the rim, his own roar is drowned out by the crowd. The buzzer blares and the game is over. They win!