Say what you want about the water pressure and the 1980s-style décor at the 149-year-old Pimlico Race Course—and both are long overdue for upgrades—it was hard not to travel around the property on a sun-splashed Saturday, Preakness Day, and not feel nostalgic, and that the race really doesn’t need to go anywhere else.

The annual scene, a rite of Baltimore spring, played out once more. From the crowded grandstands, where people bought refreshing Black-Eyed Susans and wore big, flowery hats that will probably go back in their closets for a while and maybe placed a bet; to the InfieldFest, where sunburned drinking-age kids did what they do; to along the rail near the start-finish line of the one-mile dirt oval, where a few fortunate adults put down their cocktails and positioned themselves before the main event’s 6:48 p.m. scheduled post time to get a peak and take pictures or video of the running of the 144th Preakness Stakes.

It was sure worth watching. War of Will, the controversial seventh-place finisher of the Kentucky Derby two weeks earlier, won our race outright, and his redemption story set up a chance for a dramatic Triple Crown bid June 8 at the Belmont in New York. And everyone, all 131,256 estimated in attendance, got a big surprise when a horse with no jockey on it—Bodexpress, which bucked its rider John Velazquez from its back out of the starting gate—galloped down the homestretch, not just twice during the race as is required to finish it, but two more times afterward. “I think we’ve covered bizarre,” said the winning trainer, Mark Casse, the 58-year-old raised in Florida who was thrilled to have won in Baltimore. “The Preakness has always been so big to me.”

As we know by now, it might be one the last times the mix of party buzz, betting (a record $99 million wagered this year), and horse racing comes to the 110-acre plot of land in Park Heights. The track’s owner, the Canadian-based Stronach Group, wants to move the second jewel of the Triple Crown from outdated Pimlico, which is open just 12 days a year, to a renovated year-round “super track” about a 30-minute drive south in Laurel, while city stakeholders want to keep the race right where it is. Complicating matters is that state law maintains the Preakness can’t be moved from its current site for reasons other than “disaster or emergency.”

At one point Saturday afternoon, a private plane flew overhead with a message trailing in the sky behind it: “Stronach Keep Preakness in Baltimore,” paid for by a political communications firm. Meanwhile, new Baltimore City mayor Jack Young wore a yellow button with the same words on it, minus the surname of the track’s owners, and he spoke about wanting to negotiate a “win-win” for both sides.

Unless you’re directly in those political discussions—and Young, who took office 11 days ago, Gov. Larry Hogan, and Belinda Stronach haven’t even had them yet—it’s hard to know exactly what will happen. But the interests have said they want to talk, while a city-filed lawsuit hovers, and the public wonders. Stronach Group COO Tim Ritvo has said the race will be run at Pimlico next year, but after that, who knows?

In the meantime Saturday, we stayed in the present: a glorious 77-degree day, few clouds in the sky, a tradition-steeped event, and the people, the things of which Preakness discussions should be about. After all, what is a place without what happens there?

There was pageantry—like Navy Seals parachuting in from above with a giant American flag. And stories like this: Wouldn’t you know, two 20-something kids, of those sunburned variety, snuck into the media tent after the race, despite the seemingly hundreds of security guards and the credential scanners in the infield, and sat in on the post-race press conference.

Not only did one of them, Ryan Donofry, 21, a recent Temple University graduate, wearing suspenders over a buttoned-up collared shirt like an old-timey reporter, rise from his seat, identify himself as from his hometown Springfield Sun newspaper outside Philadelphia, and ask Casse and War of Will’s jockey, 24-year-old Tyler Gaffalione, a question (“How are you going to celebrate?”). But he and his friend, Liam Bradley, 22, took pictures with the winners after the Q&A ended.

“It was awesome,” Bradley told Baltimore afterward. “We were in the infield and we ended up in here. Can’t ask for more.” Then the pair wandered away, wondering where to go, before ultimately heading to their resting place for the night. (They also kindly apologized if they’d had taken away an opportunity to ask a question.)

Hours earlier, Avla “Poppet” Potts, in her 80s, and who bred Preakness entry Alwaysmining, an 8-to-1 shot, at her longtime Fallston farm, sat in the box seats along the homestretch, eager to see what was going to unfold like the rest of us. Would the 3-year-old horse become the first from Maryland to win the Preakness since 1983? “We’ll see how it goes,” Potts said. Unfortunately, for locals, the horse finished 11th out of 13, and never really contended. Another rooting interest, Maryland-based Win Win Win, stabled at Fair Hill Training Center in Elkton, placed seventh.

A little more than an hour after the finish of the two-minute sprint, in Pimlico’s barn area on the property’s northwest edge along Winning Avenue, War of Will received celebrity-type attention, camera flashes popping as the sun set behind a giant thunderstorm cloud. Across the parking lot—fairly close to a long line of revelers seeking one more drink from a temporary bar, Alwaysmining ate hay alone in his stable, of course unable to comment. And in another corner, Casse, the trainer in a giddy mood, accepted congratulations on a makeshift stage, before heading off to dinner with his wife at Wicked Sisters in Hampden.

“The last two weeks have not necessarily been the easiest,” Casse told a small crowd, referring to the Derby controversy after which some openly questioned whether his horse should have been declared the winner. (A decision by the steward, or a horse racing referee, disqualified apparent winner Maximum Security for blocking.) Casse spoke a bit more about that feeling earlier in the media tent.

“I felt like there was so much written, so much said about how our horse wasn’t going to win [here]. I felt bad for him,” he said. “I just wanted a fair shot.” He got it, and, thankfully, so did we—to watch and enjoy what we hope is one of many more splendid days to come on Old Hilltop.

It’s sad, really, the whole situation. How the venue, Pimlico Race Course, for one of America’s most iconic sporting events and one of Baltimore’s great decades-old traditions, the Preakness Stakes, has been left to wither and die.

If you’ve been, there’s no shortage of evidence, from the unusable bathrooms a few years ago, to the 7,000 Old Grandstand seats the track’s owners have said are unsafe to sit in this year, to on Tuesday morning, when a water main burst, leaving a pair of craters in the parking lot just outside the historic-yet-dilapidated, 149-year-old facility’s administrative offices.

Even Pimlico’s jockey’s lounge, used sparingly throughout the year but which you expect would be in better condition for riders preparing for a nationally televised horse race with a $1.5 million purse, looks like it hasn’t been updated since the 1980s (the hand-crank manual pencil sharpener affixed to a desk is a giveaway). Plus, it has its own damage: The frayed net on a Ping-Pong table wouldn’t even allow a fair game.

The course’s crumbling state is all too obvious a symbol of the disarray that surrounds the Preakness Stakes. The ongoing legal and legislative battle and public posturing between Baltimore City and The Stronach Group—the Canadian real estate conglomerate and Pimlico’s owner—which hasn’t hid the fact it wants to move the Preakness 30 minutes south to a “supertrack” in Laurel, has been well documented. (Though we’ve yet to hear how new mayor Jack Young feels about the situation.)

Of course, it makes business sense for the track’s owners to want to have a state-of-the-art, year-round facility halfway between here and Washington, D.C., where they can attract the type of corporate dollars they want, while theoretically strengthening the state’s horse racing presence. And, outside from one weekend a year and the money that some residents of surrounding and blighted Park Heights charge visitors to park, the neighborhood sure doesn’t enjoy the type of long-term economic impact you would hope a legendary sporting event, and its home, could bring to a place.

The 110-acre Pimlico lot sits practically desolate for 50 weeks out of the year—the parking lots are used to do things like walk dogs—coming alive only for 12 days surrounding the running of the Preakness, the second jewel of the famed Triple Crown. When that happens, it only makes the warts more apparent to visitors. You won’t see them on TV, though. “Viewers won’t see the dumped mattresses, tires and garbage on desolate blocks, the high concentration of liquor stores and convenience shops,” is how The Undefeated put it in an article this week.

These hard truths don’t mean it’s easy—or right—to simply throw away one of the great traditions of the city, and the state. That might be why Maryland law says the Preakness can’t be moved from Pimlico for any reason other than “disaster or emergency.” It’s hard to imagine anybody wants a Colts 2.0, though at least this potential move is playing out publicly. In fact, when I visited Pimlico as the sun rose early Tuesday morning and joined one of the free public tours of its barns, I didn’t find one person there who wanted to see the track close down, even if they understood its crumbling condition.

It may have been a biased polling group, but our tour guide, Anita Slebzak, a lifetime horse racing enthusiast who started working at local tracks in 1978, certainly doesn’t want it to happen. “Having the Preakness is like having the Super Bowl or the World Series in your hometown every single year,” she said after guiding a group of nine people around. “I hope that they keep it.”

So does 32-year-old John Anderson, the security guard who tagged along with our group. He’s worked at the track on and off for 15 years; his mom has him beat, at 19. “I work here. My mom works here. My dad will be here tomorrow. My sister will be here on Preakness Day, and so will my will brother-in-law,” he said. From South Baltimore, the guy with gold front teeth and an endearing and infectious laugh isn’t sure if he’d be able to get to Laurel to work, should Pimlico close and its land redeveloped, unless transportation was part of the deal. “There’s no need to take it down,” he said, standing beneath the grandstands. “For what? You make a lot of money here, and it’s historic.”

Indeed, Frank Stronach, 86, a self-made billionaire who has sued his daughter, Belinda, for financial mismanagement of the family assets (and she vice versa), bought Pimlico, and Laurel, in 2002. Money, more money, could have been invested in the place a long time ago. Even so, just two years ago, on a nice weather day, Pimlico set single-day records for attendance (140,237) and handle ($97.16 million).

Even someone who you’d think would have rooting interest for the proposed new location for the state’s premier track, Louann Day, a retired communications official who lives within walking distance of the current Laurel Raceway and took a tour of Pimlico on Tuesday, said she hopes the venue stays right where it is. “This is iconic Maryland,” she said. “It’d be like taking crabs away.”

Gone not only would be the theater, pageantry, and buzz (Infield party or otherwise) of the 100,000-plus watching the running of the Preakness—a reason to celebrate, and we could sure use as many of those as possible. But also disappearing into thin air would be the small, charming moments, the type of early weekday mornings that leave an impression on plastic minds.

Like when Tim Tullock, a veteran outrider and racing analyst who sat on a horse near the start-finish line of Pimlico’s one-mile dirt oval and informed wide-eyed kids (and adults) about the nuances of horses. “Did you know horses can’t throw up?” he said, as a way of explaining that they can’t breathe through their mouth. Later he entertained his own kids, by video-chatting to them from horseback, as he rode about the property.

A few media members stalked the stables, looking for a glimpse of War of Will, one of the horses involved in the controversial Kentucky Derby finish two weeks ago. And security guards talked shop, one about the good old days when you could bring anything in on race day, even your own liquor. A second spoke of another reality. Part of his job Saturday? To retrieve the golf carts that kids from the surrounding divested neighborhood hop the Pimlico fences to steal. (Note: They have GPS in them, so they’re easy to find.)

Meanwhile, television crews ran wires from their many production trucks, in preparation for Preakness Day, making sure the electricity worked. “The Home of the Preakness,” the signage says nearby, a true statement until at least 2020. After then, we don’t know.

A Maryland Stadium Authority (MSA) study has recommended tearing down the dilapidated Pimlico Race Course and starting over—at a cost of more than $400 million. But while the operators of the track agree in principle with the report’s findings, they’re not up for paying the tab themselves.

The study, released today, envisions multiple, year-round uses for the facility, but focused in the short term on just replacing the clubhouse, grandstands, tracks, infield, and assorted racing-related outbuildings. Retail, residential, units—even a hotel—could be later phases on the sprawling track between Mt. Washington and Pimlico but would likely have to be funded by private enterprise.

According to the study’s findings, without a large investment in the track, Pimlico faces “significant challenges, which, if not addressed, may threaten its continued existence and the success of the Preakness Stakes.”

The study also suggests city and state officials, the track operators—the Maryland Jockey Club (MJC) and The Stronach Group of Canada, which owns Pimlico and Laurel Park—begin talks about the next steps, a recommendation supported by Baltimore Mayor Catherine Pugh.

“What we believe is, this is a path forward for the Preakness in Baltimore,” Pugh said. “We know this is going to require public-private partnerships, including the state.”

In a statement, Belinda Stronach, chairman and president of The Stronach Group, thanked the MSA for its “thorough and extensive job of understanding and responding to the challenges of the aging Pimlico Race Course. The final conclusions of the MSA report are in line with our assessment that, in order to bring the facility up to par, it will require several hundreds of millions of dollars.”

But the Stronach Group has consistently balked at the idea of paying for such a rebuild out of pocket, saying significant public investment is necessary. The company has suggested it’s open to discussing a public-private partnership.

Marty Azola, president of the Azola Companies, known for historic restorations across Baltimore and a national expert on adaptive reuse, served as vice president for facilities at Pimlico for several years in the late 1990s, and knows every worn-out corner of the property. While he has mixed feelings about dropping large sums on Pimlico, he acknowledges how important it is to keep the race in Charm City.

“The argument about where to run Preakness is not just about the facilities,” says Azola, who’s also author of the recent book Rebuilding Baltimore. “It’s about civic pride. It’s about our nation’s history in Baltimore. We have so few nationally prominent businesses and events in our city. Let’s not even consider losing Preakness.”

But he thinks a less ambitious redo might make more sense.

“I am very aware of the business realities for the MJC and support public financing of the Pimlico rebuild so the MJC can profit reasonably,” he said. “But you could also argue that record crowds keep coming notwithstanding the condition. It’s the event that draws them. I’d recommend a smaller year-round facility at Pimlico similar with state-of-the-art simulcasting, food service, banquet and other revenue-producing spaces. Then provide fair-weather grandstand facilities and all the infield amenities for the extra 100,000 fans that come on that one special day—Preakness.”

Preakness for the owners of Pimlico is like black Friday at the mall—that’s historically the day they show a profit for the year. It’s also the single biggest event of the year in terms of revenue for Baltimore.

“A revamped Pimlico would help support adjacent development indirectly but understand that racing fans are unlikely to venture off site for any meaningful amount of business,” adds Azola.” “It’s the same dynamic as casinos. You need all amenities on-site.”

When crafting the lineup for Preakness InfieldFest each year, Seth Hurwitz is always trying to stay ahead of the curve. The chairman of I.M.P. Productions—which books big-name shows at Merriweather Post Pavilion, 9:30 Club, and The Anthem—has served as the producer of the infield concert since its inception in 2009.

“Our strategy has always been to find each year’s most cutting-edge story just as it’s breaking big,” Hurwitz says, mentioning previous Preakness headliners like Bruno Mars, Pitbull, Lorde, The Chainsmokers, Zac Brown Band, and Maroon 5. “Believe it or not, all the times those acts played, they were just starting to become big stars. And yet, we’ve never been wrong.”

InfieldFest provides the soundtrack for Maryland horse racing’s marquee event, which returns to Pimlico Race Course with a modernized layout and bigger stage this Saturday, May 19. Hurwitz says that he wants attendees to walk away from the event having seen some of the most of-the-moment performers.

“We want people to think of Preakness as where you are going to see the next big thing,” he says. “And have a blast, because that’s the whole other thing—we only pick the fun ones.”

There will certainly be plenty of good times in store for revelers this year as the Infield welcomes rappers Post Malone and 21 Savage, and electronic duo ODESZA—whose latest album A Moment Apart earned the musicians two Grammy nominations last year.

Though ODESZA’s Clayton Knight and Harrison Mills haven’t spent much time in Baltimore in the past, they’re looking forward to being in town for one of the city’s most iconic events.

“The only time we’ve been to Baltimore was in February 2014, when we opened for another artist at Baltimore Soundstage and we were just here for the day,” Mills recalls. “We didn’t get to explore much of the city, which is pretty common on tour, but I remember the audience being really receptive to us. Unfortunately, we won’t have much down time on this visit either, but at least we get to watch the Preakness right after our show.”

The guys recently performed a captivating Sunday-night set at Coachella, and will go on to play other big-name festivals including Lollapalooza, Firefly, and Austin City Limits this summer. But they admit that their Preakness gig will stand out from the rest.

“This was the first time we’d heard of concerts happening in the infield before a race,” Mills says. “We were familiar with Preakness and the Triple Crown, but neither of us have any ties to horse racing, so that world is pretty foreign to us.”

ODESZA’s first Preakness performance comes at a transformative time for the concert, which has downsized this year from two stages to one massive “mega-stage” that measures 120-feet wide and 60-feet tall. The platform will be situated just off of the InfieldFest entrance tunnel and make it so that attendees will have clear views of the races happening around the track.

“We want to ensure that our concert goers can also experience the race,” says Tiffani Steer, vice president of communications and events for The Stronach Group, which owns Pimlico. “We have cleaned up the views to the racetrack, and there are now more designated viewing areas so that you can not only enjoy the concert, but also be connected to the horseracing.”

Additionally, organizers have repositioned the concession stands along the outer edges of the Infield and moved the rows of Porta-Potties that previously blocked sights of the races. There will also be more accessible betting stations scattered throughout the grounds for concert-goers interested in wagering on the thoroughbreds.

“In order to be able to start to connect a new generation to the sport, and continue to modernize and thrive, we have to provide opportunities for people to have fun with great food and beverage and entertainment all day,” Steer says. “That’s really what’s going to round out an ultimate day at the races now.”

Aside from getting a front row seat to the middle jewel of the Triple Crown, ODESZA is most excited about reconnecting with Baltimore crowds.

“Neither of us have been to a horse race, let alone a Triple Crown race, and we’ve only seen the big races on TV,” Knight says. “So that will be a highlight. But we’re most looking forward to performing for our fans in Baltimore—it’s been so long since we’ve played here.”