Thursday, February 14, 2013

The Man, the Mentor, the Legend

At some point or another when you consider yourself a fan of a sport, you owe it to yourself to learn about its history. Or, at the very least, learn about its icons.

It pays to know who Secretariat, Man o’War, Forego, and Dr. Fager are.

It pays to know who Jim Fitzsimmons, Laz Barrera, Tom Smith, and John Nerud are.

The latter just turned 100 years old and I know very little about him. I know he trained Dr. Fager, among others. Tom Gallo, of Parting Glass Racing, told me in Jiffy Lube two years ago that somebody (wink, wink) should write a biography about him.

A wise man even said, "If John Gaines was the Father of Breeders' Cup, then John Nerud is its "Good Uncle.”

Horse racing has better days behind it than it does ahead, so it serves us well to look into the expanded panorama of the rear-view mirror.

Nerud was born before the start of World War I, the War to End All Wars. We’ve since had a few more. He was 20 years old when Seabiscuit was foaled.

There is rarely a division of horse racing Nerud hasn’t graced. When Nerud helped found the Breeders’ Cup, it was with the noblest of intentions—to help popularize horse racing for the masses, to hook people on how special the game can be. He watched it become Viktor Franketstein’s wretch. Nerud, in his own words from johnnerud.com:

“As you know John Gaines dreamed this up…When this was born he and I both agreed that the Breeders Cup is only a marketing tool for racing – nothing else. You have one big day to draw attention to racing and it’s a marketing tool…Without racing breeders don’t have a place to sell their horses, but I don’t think the breeders have ever realized that. Anyhow, we wanted to spend everything on one day.

“I think they have lost their way with the Breeders Cup. The Breeders Cup is only an event. It wasn’t put together to bring a lot of money back to the breeders. They were expected to fund it so they would have a market to sell their horses, but the people in Kentucky think it belongs to the breeders and they should make a profit off it, which is wrong.

“I haven’t been to meetings and I don’t know what their ideas are but we have never had a CEO in charge of the Breeder’s Cup that is independent. Every CEO we have ever had running the Breeders Cup has been an inside man. If the Breeders Cup is to be run right they have to get an outside person with the ability and the education – I don’t care if he has never seen a horse – he has to be a strong executive and not part of the good old boys club.

“That is what is wrong with the Breeders Cup, it is run as a good old boys club. Until we get rid of that attitude, it’s not going to work. I don’t think we will ever get it straightened out. The Kentucky breeders are a very close-knit group. They are the center of the breeding world and they know it. It is very difficult for an outsider to get in and make a very big splash. I did. I was on five committees and chairman of the marketing committee for 10 years. I had a pretty strong voice but they got rid of me.”

Nerud celebrated his 100th birthday before a crowd of 50-60 friends and colleagues in Sands Point, NY. It would appear, based on the above comment, he made many enemies in the sport, namely with the insular group of Kentucky breeders. At age 100, it could be he watched some of them die, which must have felt sweet in its own right.

At the party, as reported by Steve Haskin of The Blood-Horse, Nerud said, “Finally, I’d like to tell you a story that best describes who I am now. There was an old avid golfer who used to come to church Sundays when it was raining and he couldn’t play. On this day he happened to be in church, and the minister said to the congregation, ‘I’m going to make you all feel good and have you forgive your enemies. All you people who will forgive your enemies raise your hand.’ Everybody raised their hand except the old golfer. The minister said to him, ‘You don’t want to forgive your enemies?’ The old golfer said to him, ‘I don’t have any enemies, I’ve outlived all the bastards.'”

May he outlive them all, every one of them.

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Monday, February 11, 2013

The ‘King’ Kompromised

Animal Kingdom must love to train.

Saturday’s Grade 1 Gulfstream Park Turf Handicap race was his third race in a year’s time and, sadly, we won’t get to see him on American soil again. For, you see, this unconventional horse has an unconventional farewell campaign, a truly global one. (Well, he ain’t goin’ to France. C’mon, Graham’s a Brit. That stuff goes deep, man, deep. Just try and say Horatio Nelson in a Parisian Café and see how many croissants get thrown at you.)

Animal Kingdom is going to rack up as many frequent flier miles as Hilary Clinton. Animal Kingdom will bid farewell to the United States and head to Dubai, a flight that will take upwards of 7,000 miles. From there he’ll go to Royal Ascot, another 4,000 miles or so, and retire with possibly the most eclectic racing resume since Curlin.

Frankly, after what Graham Motion did with Animal Kingdom in 2012 was worth all the Eclipse votes Steve Asmussen got (2). AK was on the shelf for 259 days with a gut-wincing pelvic fracture. He came back and was arguably the best horse in a Mile-field and lost just a 1 ½ lengths to Wise Dan, the eventual Horse of the Year.

And on Saturday, his chance at victory wasn’t so much compromised by trip, but by tactics. Jockey Joel Rosario made Shaquille O’Neal look more capable. Too bad that’s Animal Kingom’s North American-send off, but what are you going to do?

The horse is five years old and a Kentucky Derby winner, which begs the question: why the hell are you still around? Don’t you have something better to do? Like, I don’t know, eat, drink, and “be merry”?

The last Kentucky Derby winner to be this old and to still be running was Funny Cide, and he only did because he was gelded and about—if not more—curmudgeonly than his trainer Barclay Tagg.

Animal Kingdom is an outlier. He won the Derby, then he got hurt. He came back. Then he got hurt. He came back again to finish to second. He’s got 20 owners. He prefers grass. He’s actually … The Most Interesting Horse in the World.

“He speaks English, in horse.”

“He’s a hunter and a jumper, but mainly a hunter.”

“He was unimpressed by War Horse … He is … the Most Interesting Horse in the World.”

“I don’t always run on dirt, but when I do, I prefer Kentucky.”

Facebook lit up after his loss to Point of Entry, mainly ripping Joel Rosario, namely on Alex Brown’s thread (go buy his book). He gallops horses at Fair Hill in Maryland and is practically roommates with Animal Kingdom, playing darts, drinking room temperature beer, dreaming of Pipa.

What I can’t stand is how people on this thread (not Brown)—one in particular—defended Rosario. And this goes for people who defend jockeys who make bad moves. They always say, “He’s the only who could know since he’s on the horse!” “The pace was slow!” “He has to make split-second decisions!”

So what? You know who else has to make split-second decisions? Quarterbacks, and we rip on them for bad throws. Batters, and we rip on them for grounding into a double play to end the game with the bases juiced. LeBron James, for missing a game-winning shot. Tiger Woods, for infidelity and missing putts.

So the people who defend jockeys need to stop being so insular. They are athletes, great athletes, but when they make mistakes, they need to get raked over the coals just like any other athlete in any other sport.

The beauty of this game—for jockeys—is they always get another chance (health permitting). Rosario is a quality talent, but don’t condescend and say things like, “Did anyone not notice that there was NO pace in this race ….They went the first quarter in 25 and the next in 25 2/5 .. He’s[Animal Kingdom] an off the pace horse in a ZERO paced race! If Rosario didn’t press, then they would have gone the ¾ in almost 1:16, and tried to close into a hors that had just been galloping.”

The pace was slow and Animal Kingdom wasn’t trailing by 15 lengths, but four. He didn’t move up to press the pace, he flat-out stole it. He used his turn of foot four furlongs too soon.

No matter. These things happen. One down, two to go.

Maybe in a few weeks he’ll break his Meydan, no?

If you or a loved one—or an enemy you’re looking to lure into your confidence—would like a hardcover, first edition book, I’m giving away (while supplies last, limit one per person) copies of Six Weeks in Saratoga: How Three-Year-Old Filly Rachel Alexandra Beat the Boys and Became Horse of the Year. If interested, email me at and let me know how you would like it inscribed. The only catch is I ask you to review it on Amazon. That’s it! What a world!

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Thursday, February 07, 2013

Champion Handicapper goes to …

Now that the Eclipse Awards are in the rear-view mirror, what better time to talk about the Eclipse Awards than now?

Naturally, in three weeks or so I’ll be sure to start talking about the Super Bowl and my two theories for the power outage. 1. Producers of Animal Planet’s Puppy Bowl IX pulled the plug in the Big Easy (the timing was too perfect. The lights go out and, what’s this, the Puppy Bowl starts? Follow the money …

2. The more plausible of the two solutions is this: it was Bane. We’ll the proper authorities figure it out.

Since we are a site that pays a certain degree of homage to the great and powerful horse player, I figured this idea would stoke your fires: Champion Handicapper. What is this sport without the horse player? And why not honor him?
The Eclipse Awards has become the annual ceremony to honor the “Big 5” trainers and Adena Springs. The Eclipse Awards recognize the best journalism of the year. It’s high time the other branch of horse racing gets its due.

The branches, just to get a bit didactic here, are horses, horsemen, journalists, and the horse player. This is a fair order of descending importance (and by that I mean perceived importance. We all know how important the horse player is. Actually, in the grand scheme, I’d put the horse player above the journalist.). Though the weight of the sport comes out of the pockets of the lowly horse player, gets its increasingly sparse coverage from its writers, so that what? The top tier may reap the rewards? Let’s take back the night.

The League of Handicappers, a nice comic-booky name. Register for the League. That’s all it takes to be a pro. Just sign up. But you’re in the pool with the big boys, the heavy hitters, and the small-fry blogger.

Through the League, every wager is recorded, every type of wager, at every track. Rules, you have to play at least five different tracks in a given year. Maybe John Pricci picked the most pure winners of the year, but Top Turf Teddy hit two Pick 6s and a Pick 4 on Derby Day.

It doesn’t matter how much money you actually win, that’s not a product of skill (though it can be). I wouldn’t much care of the guy who goes ALL-ALL-ALL. In fact, the League keeps track of how many times you’re inclined to use the ALL button. Sometimes it’s necessary, but this will keep any billionaire playboys from “buying the title”. Eligibility for the League, and thus to be considered for the Eclipse, needs to go to most skilled player. Already, the parallels can be drawn to the other disciplines.

Who wins the Champion Trainer? Going back 18 years, six trainers have one the award. Six. (Todd Pletcher 5, Bobby Frankel 4, Bill Mott 3, Bob Baffert 3, Steve Asmussen 2, Dale Romans 1). All these trainers have the power of numbers on their side. It helps to hit bullseyes when you have 100 darts to throw at the board when some of your competition might only have 10 darts with mangled flights and chipped points.

Just as the greater number of horses a trainer has increases his or her chances, so too does an increased bankroll. These things can be overcome. Horseman still need to be skilled. So too does the horse player. While exact monies wagered will be kept hidden and only known by the head of the mainframe, all that matters is picking winners and cashing exotics from tracks all over the country to prove you’re not just a one-track wonder.

I’d say that some of the days would have to include the marquee ones on the schedule, but that would take care of itself. Those are the days where you’re likely to catch an 18-1 horse or a favorite at 3-1.

Over the course of a calendar year, the numbers won’t lie and it will be put to a vote. And the winner is …

If you or a loved one—or an enemy you’re looking to lure into your confidence—would like a hardcover, first edition book, I’m giving away (while supplies last, limit one per person) copies of Six Weeks in Saratoga: How Three-Year-Old Filly Rachel Alexandra Beat the Boys and Became Horse of the Year. If interested, email me at and let me know how you would like it inscribed. The only catch is I ask you to review it on Amazon. That’s it! What a world!

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