The sport of Thoroughbred racing just can't get out of its own way. In the 2008 edition of the Run for the Roses, Eight Belles broke down while galloping out after finishing second to Big Brown. Seconds later, the brave filly was euthanized while she lay helpless on the track.
The first indication of trouble was when the winning colt tossed his jock. I saw one of the little silk-wearing buggers go flying, couldn't figure out what was going on. Big Brown was the winner by daylight and the colt had no apparent reason to freak. He had just won a Derby and jockey Kent Desormeaux, in an uncharacteristically lucid manner, had not used him up. My assumption was that the Brownster's lack of racing experience was showing, and since this kid was green, even after a big win like this, his behavior wasn't totally unexpected.
But then my fellow punter Dan(g!) turned toward me and said, "Something is wrong with that filly, she's down."
After realizing what had happened, I turned the television off immediately and sat there stunned. I've seen plenty of horses go down and each time it leaves tears in my eyes and ashes in my mouth. But this one was especially hard because it was the Derby. With 20 inexperienced runners, the race lends itself to disaster, but bad things don't happen here.
With all the sadness though came the inevitable: the onslaught of the moonbats coming faster than Big Brown, with PETA a furlong ahead of the rest, causing an immediate stir.
This outfit endeared themselves to me back in the '90s when they spraypainted my cozy Long Island Sound duck blind blaze orange during a night of pony-tail and Birkenstock hijinx. They followed this up a week later by planting speakers near the banks of Connecticut's Salmon River Cove and blaring Elmer Fudd and Daffy Duck sound bites in the direction of the duck boats.
Their plan backfired though when a Woodie flared from the din of Mel Blanc directly into the path of my Wingmaster and I dropped the colorful fowl for all their eyes to see. Abada, abada, abada, that's all, folks.
So it was no shock to me that less than 24 hours after Eight Belles broke down, the inane PETA sent an even more inane letter to the Kentucky Horse Racing Authority insisting that the racing commission publicly neuter conditioner Larry Jones for running her and jockey Gabriel Saez for abusing her.
The flakes also demanded that the sport ban the whip, switch all tracks to synthetic surfaces, and the topper, stop racing horses until they turn 3 years of age, which is a curious argument as more 4- and 5-year-olds break down in racing than the youngsters.
Since PETA is like cop cars and deer -- meaning, as evidenced by my own experience, their actions always come in pairs -- 12 PETA members, and I mean that metaphorically, showed up in Ol' Kentuck' two days later to protest the sport and all its evil. Rational voices are welcomed; irrational actions only polarize.
As for Jones, he simply proved me wrong. I thought Eight Belles had holes in her form. She had raced well albeit against dubious company. She had never run against the lads, nor had she faced Grade I competition in her own division.
But on Saturday she ran her heart out and proved that Jones had made the right choice in running her. This big girl had every reason to quit in the final eighth of a mile but dug down and beat 18 boys. The one thing missing from the Daily Racing Form is the chart where Andy Beyer puts a number on a horse's guts.
The young Saez had the ride of his life and in no way, from what I can glean from the replay, is in any way responsible for the game filly's demise. The Stewards reviewed the race for any excessive use of the whip and found nothing. The double fracture occurred well beyond the finish line, and even the trained eyes of veterinarians could only detect trouble two strides before she went down. As a 20-year-old, this kid has a bright future ahead of him, but to PETA he's just another horse killer. I suppose we could placate PETA and dress Thoroughbreds in hockey gear and run them in bouncy houses.
Or we could point our collective hooves at the obvious culprits -- the owners and breeders. They contribute to the fragility of horses by demanding selective breeding where the result is a faster horse on a flimsier frame.
This isn't like placing an F-16 engine in a Piper Cub to see what happens. This is more destructive, akin to giving all 8-year-old boys a driver's license and the keys to a '72 Chevy. In short order, there would be fewer and fewer 8-year-old boys. The industry tacitly acknowledges this growing weakness of the great breed by racing them less frequently than ever before.
Fifty years ago, an average horse ran 11-12 races a year, compared to six today. Everyone knows why but no one does anything to stop it.
If Big Brown wins the next two races, and there's little in his way, 2008 might be remembered more for the filly, though, than for what should have been the real story: Big Brown.
Like Larry Jones, this colt and Kent Desormeaux proved me wrong, too. It's been nearly 100 years since a colt of such little experience won a Derby. Say what you want about the field, but more than a few showed up for the race. He was just that much better.
Desormeaux piloted a flawless race. I get on Kent all the time and am convinced that he is a "fire six shots and sprint from the scene" jockey. Saturday was different, though, as he rated his steed just behind the speedballs, and while the nutty ones cut damning fractions early on, the distance Kent put between Big Brown and the leaders was crucial in the end.
Desormeaux rode the Big One wide around the first and last turn, thus running a longer race than the rest, but kept enough in the tank for the son of Boundary to come around that far turn and demolish the field.
That move he made in Louisville is the sort of move that wins the Belmont. It takes a good horse to swing wide and leave the rest behind. Make no mistake -- this is a good horse.
The pundits are speaking of Big Brown's "average final time and a tick under par Beyer rating" as they describe the outcome. But considering where he started the race, in gate 20 which may as well be in Frankfort, coupled with the outside trip, this dude ran a dandy.
It was such a dandy that he convinced the connections of all but one of the Derby entries to pass on the Preakness on May 17. That's 17 colts that aren't willing to answer the bell and give this dude a fight.
In the Derby, Recapturetheglory watched Big Brown's tail from more than11 lengths behind as he finished a distant fifth. He has a front running style that suits the Pimlico race, but he was going backward at the end of the mile and a quarter in Louisville.
His Derby backers played the War Emblem angle (won the Illinois Derby as a final prep) and since War Emblem won the Preakness too, I suppose you could extend the logic to Baltimore. He's a bottom of the trifecta candidate, but that's about it. Patrick Gallagher brings the Cali steed Yankee Bravo to the dance. He is versatile but no threat to Big Brown.
Racecar Rhapsody seems the only other threat, but, like Recapturetheglory and Yankee Bravo, is a stretch. With the Big Guy going off at less than odds-on, even these pretenders will draw sympathy money and come with the baggage of shorter odds than deserved on merit.
Pletcher's Behindatthebar would have been overmatched in the Derby and remains overmatched at Ol' Hilltop.
Giant Moon, Kentucky Bear, Stevil and Tres Borrachos would be shockers on top.
The field is a true pile, but unless they all run the other way, one of these are required to finish second, third or fourth and round out the exotics. The best thing to do here is play the undercard and pass on the Preakness entirely.
But for the die-hards, OK, and guys like me who want a rooting interest, throw a flyer on three colts underneath the Derby hero, but don't spread it too much. Big Brown will win by 10 lengths on Saturday, and we'll move on to the Belmont and try and beat him there. That's where they all fail.
But let's hope the Brownster wins them all and most important he stays healthy. There would be no better way to end what began as a terrible start to this season than by this dude, wearing a Triple Crown, facing off against Curlin in the Breeder's Cup Classic this fall. One step at a time, though, and that next one is in Baltimore on Saturday.
Bon Chance.
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | May 13 2008 |