Column from the May edition of Mid-Atlantic Thoroughbred magazine. You can read the whole edition here.
The gentle rise from the stable-area horsepath to the track near the quarter pole, where you can hear the infield chaos and see the first glimpse of the Preakness Day crowd in the Pimlico Race Course grandstand.
In 2014, California Chrome’s 77-year-old trainer Art Sherman walked there before the Preakness, and thought about a lifetime with horses.
The two-person-wide alley next to the winner’s circle that leads to the track’s outside rail.
Sherman’s son and assistant Alan watched from there, alongside security officer Damon Lann, a prison guard from the Baltimore City Jail. They whooped and hollered, bearhugged and stumbled through a gate and onto the track as their horse charged to victory.
The spot at the end of the short chute between the indoor paddock and the racetrack, where the grooms gather in a mix of anticipation, anxiousness, hope and cultures.
In 2012, trainer Doug O’Neill’s assistant Jack Sisterson watched I’ll Have Another win the Preakness from there. As his horse gutted out a neck victory, the former University of Louisville soccer player leaped over the outside rail as if he’d headed in a World Cup winner.
The metal outdoor steps to the jockeys’ room from the ground floor. They’re steep enough to feel like a ladder, they make a right turn about halfway up and they’ve been used by the biggest names to ride racehorses.
In 2016, Kent Desormeaux practically floated up after winning the Preakness on a horse trained by his brother Keith. Exaggerator did the work but Kent – whose Hall of Fame career took off in Maryland 30 years earlier – felt the importance of a Preakness win and the weight of achieving it with family.
The oversized shoebox of a press area, and the hallway leading to it, on the roof. Before the elevator became less reliable than an old Chevette, Pimlico officials used to bring the winning connections up there for a post-race press conference.
In 1991, jockey Jerry Bailey tried to explain Hansel’s early charge to the front on the far turn and whose idea it was. Bailey started the sentence with, “Had I had my rathers . . .” Sports Illustrated changed it to druthers.
The far side of the stakes barn, over by the corner of Rogers and Winner avenues. As bucolic as a city racetrack can get, the spot has grass, shade from a line of trees, a fence to lean on, park benches, some isolation.
In 2020 (the October Preakness thanks to Covid), Kenny McPeek hosed Swiss Skydiver’s legs late one morning – a trainer and a racehorse doing trainer/racehorse things. McPeek talked about life, his early days, his star filly. Then she went out and made history.
The other side of the stakes barn facing the building. Busier than its parallel twin, the long shedrow feels like more of a racetrack with a parking lot full of courtesy cars, veterinarians’ trucks, groups of school children on a tour and action in all directions.
In 2021, trainer Michael “Whitey” McCarthy rested his elbows on an oversized sawhorse and talked about Rombauer like he had a shot in a race dominated – in every way possible – by Kentucky Derby winner Medina Spirit and trainer Bob Baffert. Then went out and won the Preakness.
The rooms at the end of the barns. Grooms and other stable staffers used to live in them. Now, they’re more like temporary rest stops for trainers, van drivers, exercise riders and grooms.
In 2011, trainer Graham Motion ducked into one to adjust his tie and throttle back the pressure of bringing Kentucky Derby winner Animal Kingdom to town for the Preakness. The Marylander went over the shipping-out schedule with van driver Keith Cooper, helped sort some buckets, adjusted the keepers on a bridle, anything to occupy time and shut it all down for a moment. Motion’s horse rallied from 13th early to finish second, a half-length from victory.
The alley beside the turf course and the infield winner’s circle and hospitality tents. Somehow, it’s an oasis of unused grass in a place where every inch seems to have a purpose.
In 2024, Audie Otto stood there and talked about what it’s like to breed a classic winner after Seize the Grey captured the Preakness. Over her shoulder, bedlam erupted from hundreds of MyRacehorse partners who chanted, yelled, cheered, complained and stomped their feet so hard they broke a set of bleachers. She stayed calm, talked about her mother, appreciated a horse.
The canvas. Old Hilltop hosted its first race in 1870, on something of a dare, and played host to the best in sport for more than a century and a half. But, over time, the various responsible parties in charge of Pimlico didn’t do her justice. Stately wooden structures were replaced by concrete block, steel and glass. In 1966, her Victorian-style clubhouse burned to the ground. She got old, fell apart. “The old girl” as so many call her needs to be rebuilt, reimagined, reenergized.
In 2025, this version of her will host a final Preakness. The wrecking balls, bulldozers, engineers, architects, project managers, political leaders and corporate executives stand ready.
Pimlico. Man, what a place. Here’s hoping all the plans, and people, come through for her. n
