Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Stardom Bound Deserving and Worthy of Derby Run
South Ozone Park, NY, January 27, 2009--The news that juvenile filly champion Stardom Bound is pointing for the Grade 1 Las Virgenes on February 7 at Santa Anita as a prelude to her run in the Santa Anita Derby in April is welcome news.
But the notion that her primary objective of the spring is the Kentucky Oaks seems disingenuous on its face. Why run against the boys unless your aim is to beat them? And she won’t make an all-time list if she happens to beat them at Santa Anita.
Sorry, wrong Derby.
So, let’s be honest. The real goal for Stardom Bound is the Kentucky Derby. In these times, you don’t spend $5.7 million on a filly, even a champion, to win the Oaks.
At this point, beating up on more West Coast fillies isn’t going to prove much. Been there. Done that.
Which is why Zenyatta should have run in the boys Classic and not the Ladies Classic, but that‘s another story.
The history of the IEAH folks who bought Stardom Pound is one of making astute purchases. See Big Brown and many of the other Grade 1 winners that made them the leading owner in that category in 2008.
But with Big Brown and Rick Dutrow and a miserably failed Triple Crown attempt came all the attendant negative publicity, and the IEAH group, fairly or unfairly, became the outfit that turf writers enjoyed beating up on the most.
Given the history of last year’s Kentucky Derby and the tragic accident involving the filly runnerup, Eight Belles, who could blame Michael Iavarone and all the others if they don’t wish to answer those kind of questions for the next three months?
“Don’t you think that fillies are at a physical disadvantage against males?” “Given what happened last year, do you think it’s a good idea?” “Aren’t you afraid another accident like last year’s would be the kind of calamity that would kill the game forever?”
We’re not going to pretend these aren’t valid questions. But here’s a few others.
“Aren‘t there circumstances when racing females against males is permissible?” “Don’t certain body types, or running styles, mitigate the perceived risks?”
“Is the defense that breakdowns are an unfortunate part of the game no longer tenable?” “Is the sport going to run scared the rest of its days?”
Real questions that deserve real answers.
There’s a history of celebrated fillies that have become a special part of racing lore mostly because they beat males: Shuvee. Affectionately. Winning Colors. Priceless Gem. Genuine Risk. Rags To Riches.
So it’s been done here before, just like it’s done everywhere else in the world.
Foundation; soundness; superior ability. Satisfy those parameters and running fillies against colts is not dangerous.
However, the mainstream press that covers the Triple Crown doesn’t appreciate this. And ambitious columnists looking for a fresh angle won’t care and will sound an alarm anyway.
And, as for groups such as PETA, any organization wishing to call fish “sea kittens” should never be taken seriously ever again. If the industry can’t win that battle, how can it ever expect to survive?
The thing we know about Stardom Bound at this point in time is that she is in the conversation when someone wants to know who the “best,” or “most talented,” or “classiest” three-year-old is.
Further, she has the right body type and Derby style. A strong, late finisher who runs turns well; the stress factor is reduced significantly for rally types. And she gets a five-pound head-start, too, 121 vs. 126.
The one fear observers have is that fillies who try to do too much to compete with males, and over-achieve as a consequence, force themselves beyond their physical limitations.
Ruffian’s ability to match strides with Foolish Pleasure was beyond her limitations. She couldn’t race within herself and beat a Kentucky Derby winner. She was hell-bent-for-leather speed. Those types are never easy on themselves.
Not like Stardom Bound, who runs hard only after you flip on the switch.
Of the leading two dozen Derby horses that have raced a mile or farther as late-season juveniles or early season sophomores, only three have run the same better final figures on the Equiform performance-figure scale.
Her temperament, style, ability and class notwithstanding, Stardom Bound's greatest Derby attribute is her juvenile foundation: Five starts, two around two turns, both resulting in dominating performances.
Getting her started in February, then seeing if she passes the colt test in the Santa Anita Derby gives her two Derby preps, just the way new trainer Bobby Frankel likes it. If something happens in the interim, the Oaks on the same weekend would be a great fall-back position.
But considering this filly’s talent, that’s all the Oaks should be. If the Derby were run tomorrow, Stardom Bound would be no worse than third choice in the betting. That, too, makes her worthy and capable of success on racing’s greatest stage.
Written by John Pricci
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Handicapping Conundrum: Skill vs Luck
Loyal HRI reader Mark Muiler must think he’s a standup comedian. Muiler e-mailed this yesterday: “Quick Question: In your opinion what percent of handicapping is
luck, and what percent is skill?”
Suppose you’d like a quick answer, too, right Mark?
Well, there isn’t a quick answer to your quick question.
Because it’s not a quick question; it’s a trick question.
The honest answer is I have no idea. But neither does anyone else. Of course, that won’t stop me from trying.
I’m a horseplayer and it‘s not in our DNA.
If the ADWs, the State Racing and Wagering Board, Wesley Snipes’ friends over at the IRS and doping out turf sprints can’t stop me, what makes you think some little quick, trick question could?
OK, here‘s your answer. Quantitatively, it’s 80-20, with 20 being the luck part. Qualitatively (read reality based) it’s closer to 50-50.
But on some days, it’s 0-100.
When I make a nice pick and folks come up to praise Caesar, not to bury him, my stock false-modesty answer is: “I’d rather be lucky than good.”
It may be false modesty but it’s no less true.
Horseplayers go through equal periods of Messiah complex and self-loathing on a regular basis, as much as five or 10 times during a single simulcast event. It’s the nature of horseplaying humans.
But I think I have a better handle on these ups and downs--another way of saying lucky or unlucky--than most horseplayers. Why? Because of the unwritten press box rule.
When you walk into a baseball clubhouse, you’ll come across a sign that reads: “No Gambling Allowed.”
Ask Pete Rose.
But while it’s not spelled out specifically on the walls of racetrack press boxes, a related sentiment is also true:
“No Cheering Allowed.”
Parenthetically, the unspoken rule was later amended by Andrew Beyer, who deemed it permissible to root enthusiastically if the proceeds from your wager was equal to 10 percent or more of your annual salary.
A reasonable man, Mr. Beyer, although I cannot remember whether that proviso came before or after he put his fist through a press box wall one sunny Florida afternoon when the luck ratio was in the 0-100 category.
The point is that nearly four decades of no cheering has conditioned me not to get too high or too low about what’s unfolding between the fences of a race in which I am vested, important for focus and objectivity
To Mr. Muiler’s point, the awful truth is that no amount of brilliant handicapping can make up for a horrible stumble, a ten-wide rally, or the loss of a photo by the re-bob of a head.
It’s for all the those reasons that you must be able to put a price on a horse’s head and bet only when getting true value, the most overused and misapplied term in the handicapper’s lexicon. But I digress.
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself as a wagering professional unless I truly believed that hard work can help factor out some of the unlucky things that go on.
However, luck has little to do with it if you’re betting a pace presser from post 10 in a grass sprint or taking a rally type from the rail post out of the chute in a middle-distance sprint.
Good handicapping CAN overcome bad luck.
But, luck, she does give us the fickle finger at inopportune time. As if there were opportune times.
Here’s something I’m working on but have been unable to pull the trigger on because each gambling event is, logically, mutually exclusive. To wit:
You’re between two horses in the first race of the day, either would be a great value play. You choose one and he gets checked and steadied all over the lot. The other gets the perfect inside-out trip for an easy win.
Or the horse in the second half of the double to which you are alive for a good score goes wire to wire by a dominating five lengths, but is disqualified for crossing over too quickly to the rail, forcing some no-chance rival to take up behind him.
This is when my subconscious screams: “Pack up figures and trip notes, you‘re out of here.”
Invariably, I stay. Almost invariably, my bad luck doesn’t change until the following afternoon.
There’s no logical reason why the fifth or eighth race of the day has anything remotely to do with what happened in the second half of the early double. But I’ll be damned if it doesn’t.
That said, I always have, and will continue, to take the game seriously and I’ll continue to work hard and succeed.
I’ve been blessed in so many facets of life that you’ll seldom hear a woe-begotten tale--even if I must listen to yours--but I think the gods of racing might have been kinder in a couple of life-altering spots I can think of.
The true bottom line is that if I don’t do my homework and lose, it’s on me. But since I cannot control the unknowable, my only recourse would be to re-load and come back tomorrow.
But if I really believed that luck were that important, then why do I also sometimes respond to handicapping praise by saying “the harder I work, the luckier I get.”
Written by John Pricci
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Inaugural: Christmas Morning in America
Saratoga Springs, NY, January 20, 2009--Inauguration Day in America. Broadway in late morning was clear and sharp, like the message would be. But it was still quiet now, like just another Saratoga morning in January.
Quiet, too, inside Circus Café, at Broadway’s heart, SRO in August. Preparations were being made for its Inaugural Ball celebration, libations and food, nourishment for spirit and body, getting in preparedness.
And the people began to gather, slowly, perhaps waiting for Barack Obama to tell us all what we can do next.
Tables were beginning to fill now and people started bellying up to the bar. And the moment was at hand, and the room was becoming hushed now.
Diane Feinstein was taking the podium in our Nation’s Capital and began the process of jump-starting America.
Then there was an invocation, the swearing-in of a new Vice President. And then the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court rewrote the Oath of Office and the country’s 44th President responded and a country’s Original Sin was forgiven.
And the enduring memory will be of a young mother looking up at a television, cradling and rocking a baby in her arms, smiling at the words and images on the screen. It was warm and loving and hopeful.
Finally, the moment had arrived.
Then it was gone.
It was lunch time and Broadway was alive with energy now, people and cars in motion. And before you know it will be racing season here again and a new meeting will dawn.
And a new day dawned and America must exhibit a quality modern day life has done without for so long; patience and sacrifice.
* * *
America in Song
“I stand on the shoulders of Giants,” he said in a speech in Selma Alabama.
When all he had was a dream.
A dream on the road to becoming, at once, the 44th, and the 1st.
And he rode Abe Lincoln’s rails to complete a distant vision.
And he rode those rails all the way to Lincoln’s White House.
Come on up for the rising.
Happy Birthday to you, America.
Because you are now and forever will be, the United States of America.
It’s been a long time comin’.
And change has
come to America.
And our hope is that in tough times we as a people are one.
The dignity is in the work, not in the Banjamins.
So there might be little pink houses for you and me.
One heart.. one love.. let’s get together and feel all right.
And at the end of the storm, is a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of a lark.
The world, keep on turnin’
Preachers, keep on preachin.’
Pride, in the name of love.
One more come in the name of love.
The celebration of American renewal.
The founders’ dream lives on in our time.
Workin’ on a dream.
From California, to the New York highlands,
the Redwood Forest, to the gulfstream waters
This land was made for you and me.
There’s something’ happenin’ here
And change has come to America
To touch America’s soul.
“A call to choose our better history,” is the challenge.
America, the Beautiful
From sea to shining sea.
Written by John Pricci