I’m not sure a day at the races of any horse track of the least global significance can go past without a UAE-owned horse or five on the card. The country’s presence in the sport is of such significance it is fair to wonder if it would survive without financial support from the Gulf states, and paricularly the Al Maktoums of Dubai.

So it was today at Deauville-La Touques,  one of two handsome little tracks in this Normandy seaside resort community on the edge of the English Channel.

Three horses owned by the Al Maktoums of Dubai ran in the first three races.

Chief of Staff was was a close second in the first race on the chill, windy day, the 34,000 euro Prix de Granville.

A friend of ours who trains horses here in France, said another Maktoum horse, Procrastination, would “win easy” in the third race, the 34,000 euro Prix des Roches, but Procrastination was a badly beaten sixth and the other Maktoum horse, Riqa, was fourth, which at least pays some money.

So, not a great day for the Al Maktoum horses. Which is how it often goes in this sport. As goofball American baseball pitcher Joaquin Andujar might have put it: “You can put it in two words: you never know.”

We now have seen both race courses at Deauville, which is known for the beach, the two tracks and a casino, not necessarily in that order. Especially not at this time of year, when laying out on the beach would be an act of surpreme courage or sheer folly. We parked there, got out of the car, braved the north wind for about 60 seconds and scuttled back into our rented Volvo.

We had driven out from Paris for the day, to see our friend’s horse run in a lesser race, and her colt was only a jump or two out of the money. Mal chance!

Also, a yearling sale was going on across the street, an event none of us had witnessed, and a lot of money was exchanging hands there for what our friend confided was “the ultimate crap shoot” — buying 1-year-old horses who may develop into champions … or saddle ponies for some spoiled rich kid.

I believe the arithmetic proffered was something like “100 horses are bought, 60 go into training, 40 actually see a track, 20 finish in the mony and five win a Grade One race. But you never know which five out of the 100 it will be.”

Hmm. I like a bit more predictability in my sports. Like, say, a roulette wheel. At least you’re 50-50 on black vs. red.

Not that we went to the casino. Like the beach, shut down tight once the summer ends.

Our trainer friend got us owner’s passes, which allowed our party of four to get back into the barns to see the horses prepared and saddled … as well as into the proprietaires part of the grandstand, which was enclosed, heated and had televisions, so we gravitated there.

As we learned a year ago, horse racing can be a profitable business in France. Crowds are small, and facilities underwhelming — although in a charming way, at Deauville. But the government supports the sport, and French-breds who win can make their owners fairly significant money.

And, it’s just so darn picturesque, out in Normandy. The drive, as well as the little town with its offseason beach and bustling little tracks with their half-timbered houses with thatched roofs.  It’s nice to get out of the city for a day, even if the city is Paris.