LOS ANGELES, March 9, 2010--Frank Stronach has his good points and his bad points, although most of the time I find too much of one and not enough of the other. Satish Sanan is a much easier listen, as potty-mouthed as he sometimes becomes during his courageous regular appearances on Steve Byk's satellite radio show. I wonder whether Byk would allow less prestigious guests--and callers--to get away with the salty language that Sanan occasionally resorts to, but then I remind myself: This is the network that gives us a daily diet of Howard Stern, at approximately, what would you say?, $5,000 an f-bomb.

Maybe I'm a prude. During many of the years I worked for the Los Angeles Times, there was a corps of political-correctness police who were so rigid that we couldn't use the word "alien" unless it was someone from outer space; "Dutch treat" was verboten because it might insult the Dutch; and "paddywagon" was a no-no for fear those thin-skinned Irish would be offended. The late George Carlin talked about the 10 words you couldn't say on TV, but at The Times, there were hundreds of words, while acceptable in polite conversation, that couldn't be used in the newspaper. They even gave us updates--never subtracting words, but always adding--from time to time, and maybe, while I wasn't looking, I became a prude by osmosis.


An ideal would be a conversational cross between Stronach and Sanan. Stronach would be allowed to borrow a few of Sanan's four-letter words, but also make sense. Sanan would continue furnishing us tidbits about how various members of the racing establishment really feel about one another, but sound like an Austrian archduke instead of a Bowery bartender.

My guess, after last week's round with Byk, is that Sanan might muzzle himself on future shows, just when he was becoming the conscience that racing has so sadly lacked. In case you haven't been paying attention, in less than an hour Sanan trashed Churchill Downs, Monmouth Park, Lone Star Park and the New York Racing Association, and he also said something about Stronach changing his mind about every two weeks. Stronach might have even taken that last crack as a compliment. Sanan's fellow members on the Breeders' Cup board of directors didn't seem that disturbed about the Stronach reference, but the next day they pushed Sanan into making a public mea culpa about the other guys, and made him stand in the corner for a few hours.

Not everything Sanan says can be taken to the bank. In wholeheartedly defending Ahmed Zayat during his financial calamity, Sanan either knows something most of the rest of us don't know, or is simply helping a fellow bigshot horse owner circle the wagons. Arguing that the Breeders' Cup races should be held at the same track year after year, Sanan draws comparisons with the Melbourne Cup, the Indianapolis 500, Wimbledon and the U.S. Open tennis tournament, but gives short shrift to the fact that the Super Bowl and the World Series are wildly successful portable events. Equating horse racing with other sports is tantamount to skating on the thin ice; unlike the others, horse racing is a gambling game first, a sport second, and the imminent decision about the future of the Breeders' Cup might be the final straw if it goes the wrong way. If I have it right, the Breeders' Cup may care less about Churchill Downs after it hosts the races this year, but the day will come when the Breeders' Cup will need Churchill Downs, at any price. The list of tracks that are in a position to take on the Breeders' Cup is no longer a long one.

In supporting Santa Anita as the Breeders' Cup site, ad infinitum, Sanan overlooks most of the obvious drawbacks: Stronach, if he's still around, really does change his mind every two weeks; nothing's forever, not even the Oak Tree Racing Association's autumn lease with Stronach and Santa Anita; and wouldn't the Breeders' Cup need a dirt-track commitment from Santa Anita before it signs its life away?

When Stronach did his usual zigging and zagging during a recent visit to Santa Anita, he used the California Horse Racing Board as a whipping boy, suggesting that there are too many rules, especially about racing dates. Free enterprise, one of Stronach's favorite buzz phrases, and horse racing have never been good bedfellows. Look at Florida, where Stronach has a stake. Even before he got there, the racing commission turned the warring tracks loose, and there was chaos.

In California, waiting for Hollywood Park to close is like waiting for Godot. When that does happen, presumably in Stronach's lifetime, he might all but get his wish, if only by default. There will be only two tracks left in Southern California, Santa Anita and Del Mar, and more than enough dates to go around. But by then, will there be enough horses to go around? That's another story.