Virginia's voice of horse racing had a long journey to the PA booth

Approaching the gate … one minute. Sal’s Blue Jacket’s the favorite … Lining up now for today’s sixth race, start of the late Pick 5 pool now for $20,000 … 12 percent takeout … All the Pick Five’s here at Colonial just 12 percent takeout … Field of seven to go a mile and 16^th … Rails have 50 feet, starting spot a little closer to the finish line … Eight-to-five favoritism going to Sal’s Blue Jacket … They’re in the gate … AND THE RACE IS ON … !!!

The voice of Thoroughbred racing at Colonial Downs, Jason Beem is one of the lucky people who doesn’t consider what he does for a living as work.

“It’s not a job. It’s fun,” he said. “It’s very rare for me to walk into the track and wish I were somewhere else.”

Beem, 46, likes it so much that he calls ‘em as he sees ‘em practically year-round. He spends seven months in Florida at Tampa Bay Downs and 2 1/2-months here in addition to River Downs in Cincinnati (where it all began for him 20 years ago) as well as a four-day-a-week podcast for Twin Spires, the betting arm of Churchill Downs  … which owns Colonial Downs and the vast, statewide number of Rosie’s gambling emporiums.

Obviously, Beem is very good at what he does. Otherwise, in a profession limited by the number of race tracks (and there aren’t THAT many), he could be wondering why he didn’t become a lawyer, which was his first choice coming out of high school.

Beem attended law school at Gonzaga, better known for basketball, and lasted less than a year. “A proud dropout,” he said.

Funny guy, J. Beem, who has been known to leave ‘em laughing especially with his Beemie Awards, seen on social media, which he believes got him the job at Colonial “off dumb luck” when the track re-opened in 2019 after a five-year layoff.

“Oh, I’ll throw in a joke, every two months or so  ... but rarely,” Beem said. “I try to be really serious with race calling … because people are betting … putting a lot of money … on it.”

From Seattle, he started going to races at a nearby track at age two with his father, who was a devoted gambler.

“Our neighborhood was a perfect oval,” Beem said. “I would come home, ride my bike, replay the races … do the call and use a stick to whip the bike.”

Oh, the stories he can tell … like “the craziest race I ever called.” Beem was in Oregon … “and the lights go out … right when they go into the first turn. Pitch black! Two jocks fell off.”

Like his most embarrassing moment … It was between races in Portland, and Beem entered a grape-eating contest. “ … and now it was time for the next race … and I could feel the acid building up.

“So, I go 'The horses have reached the gate … It’s post time for the fourth' … Hit the mute button and burped so loud ...then I heard the echo on the speakers … looked down and my light was still green.

“It was one of those things that, at the time, I was mortified but now it’s funny. Most embarrassing things are just a good story a few years later.

“I haven’t said anything I’ve regretted on-air.”

Sounds like he has it all together, eh?

Then you will be surprised to learn Beem has problems with anxiety.

“I’m just a nervous person … being in crowds or having people around," he said. "I spend a lot of time being alone [in the announcing booth]. So I’m very used to it.”

The good news is, “I’ve gotten better the last few years. Unfortunately, the things you struggle with the most … the only way to beat ‘em is to do ‘em … like being around people more or, like, I don’t like airplanes but I try do do that more … and get used to it.”

There was a time, however, when he simply “freaked out,” Beem said. “I started having panic attacks [at Gonzaga]. I was sitting in class one day and started feeling blah … didn’t know what was happening to me … and freaked out.”

After seeing a doctor and being told “I was fine,” it happened again “and again, so I went to another doctor ... who gave me medication, and I thought, ‘OK, that will fix that’… and it didn’t.

“What happens with panic attacks it becomes fear of the fear. You think you are dying … and when it’s not happening, you’re worried it’s going to happen. So, you avoid things because you don’t want it to happen in front of people or a public place, and eventually your world becomes nothing. 

“That’s what happened to me. I was housebound for two years.”

How, even why, he recovered to lead a productive life Beem isn’t 100% sure. Family, a girlfriend, his ongoing gig at the race track, all played a role for sure.

“My outlook is … that it was not meant to be, but I am grateful for where I am and, in hindsight, grateful I got to learn from it,” he said.

“I’m not happy I went through it because it was hard … but I appreciate what I’ve got now because of what it used to be. Yeah, I still get panic attacks once in a while … but now I know I’m not in any danger. I’ve learned, if I get anxious, I need to have quiet time, do my breathing … and it works itself out.”

One more thing … do you see yourself doing race calling the rest of your life?

“I certainly hope so,” Beem said.

… down to the inside is Bossy Boots as they come around to the top of the stretch. Sal’s Blue Jacket ... the brakes yet to be released now gets the cue to go on with it. Sal’s Blue Jacket in front by a length. Wonderful Lady, Put a Rock on It … trying to get out from that inside draw. It’s another two [lengths] then it’s back to Hidden Presence who’s trying to rally up … Sal’s Blue Jacket inside the furlong pole. The lead is three.

… Hidden Presence up to second but Sal’s Blue Jacket, bet down even money, two and a half in the end … Broke good and never looked back …