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Joe Clancy You wonder how anyone can do it. How do people work with racehorses, closely? How do they care so much? How do they worry about every little detail – the feed, the bedding, the hay, the bandages, the riders, the tack, the dust, the coat, the hooves, the flies, the coughs, the saddle pads, the water, the electrolytes, the heart, the back, the tendons, the knees, the ankles, the airway, the mane, the tail, the eyes.
Saratoga winners usually return to applause, pumped fists, smiles, the occasional shout of joy. The aftermath of Monday’s Grade 1 New York Turf Writers Cup steeplechase included no such signs of celebration.
It took a rainy day to make me write this column. It’s been circulating – the interview happened 10 days ago and the interview notes have been open on my laptop for a solid week.
At some point, his mother called him Smilin’ Eyed Jack. And they say I’m the writer. Never has a better description been given about a person than the one Sam hung on our middle son.
Last year at Pimlico, right about when Shug McGuaghey was answering is 6,129th question about Orb, a chestnut ball of fast-twitch muscles bounced out of a stall next to the Kentucky Derby winner to train.
Want a runner in a Grade 1 at Saratoga? You could do worse than troll for prospects at Tampa Bay Downs in December. Fortune Pearl, 8-1 in today’s Alabama, could have been claimed for $32,000 in her career debut a day after Christmas last year.
Joe Bravo rapped. Rajiv Maragh dressed like an Indian. Julien Leparoux was a cop and an outlaw. Joe Rocco Jr. wrote his own song. Rosie Napravnik put on weight. Robbie Davis sang a terrible song, but made a great speech.
And the whole place laughed and smiled and sang along.
Late Friday morning, newly inducted Hall of Fame trainer Gary Jones made for the exit at the Fasig-Tipton sales pavilion. Wearing his Hall of Fame blazer over a short-sleeved light blue shirt with a blue and green racing tie, he accepted pats on the back, handshakes, a few congratulations but he never stopped walking.
At the start of Friday’s Hall of Fame induction ceremony, Tom Durkin compared racing to a religion and the event a most sacred day. And it delivered plenty of sermons.
It gets late early around The Special office sometimes. That’s when the ideas start flying. What if other sports were like racing? At the end of every NFL game, the winning team lined up for a photo.
