Richard Dutrow sidled between a throng of people and the concrete wall of the trainer’s tower on the backside. Muttering all the time.
“Excuse me, Babe. Get away from all these people. Let me slide in there.”
Dutrow slid and stood by himself, leaning along the outside rail. His eyes glanced left and then right, left and then right. He answered his cell phone three times without looking at the caller ID. Ordered a few horses to Monmouth, asked about their feed.
Then his eyes stopped on the big brown horse coming onto the track.
Big Brown, named so simply, but so eloquently. He’s Big Brown. The Derby favorite galloped like he meant it, rolling through his paces, square and sound, no sign of a foot ailment or any other ailment as the Derby looms.
Of course, he got the last ailment to his ointment, drawing number 20 in the post position crap shoot. No seven, no 11. The dice bounced off the table with this allotment. Now he’s got to break, go, send for the lead and see if he can traverse 19 rivals inside him to find a good spot going into the first turn. Kent Desormeaux will have to “Engage” him. Believe me, the easiest trip to navigate is when you have horse.
Desormeaux will have horse, and he’ll need it. Babe.
It’s hard to criticize Big Brown’s condition or record. But, it’s the Derby and you’re meant to try and beat the favorite. The obvious choice is Colonel John, who came to Louisville like he’s on a Polytrack expense account. Barack Obama could use a pastor like him. Don’t worry about if he can handle dirt. He can handle it. Eoin Harty wouldn’t trade places with Dutrow or anybody else.
After Big Brown and Colonel John, you can’t fault Recapturetheglory, Z Humor, Court Vision, Big Truck, Adriano Denis Of Cork in their work. As for the others, I’ve either not seen them or don’t want to bash a man’s horse.