Commercials for the New York State Lottery feature a catchy little
tune with this opening line: "If I had a million dollars, I'd buy you a
house, I'd buy you a house." During the postrace news conference for the
Kentucky Derby, it popped into my warped but agile mind, with the word Derby
substituted for house.
I would have loved to sing "I'd buy you a Derby" then to Prince
Ahmed bin Salman, who paid Russell Reineman a reported $900,000 for War
Emblem three weeks before The Great Race. Judging from his remarks, Salman
wouldn't have found it amusing. Inheritors of great fortunes tend to get
huffy when reminded that their megabucks give them a major advantage.
When a journalist suggested he had bought the Derby, Salman got a
bit snippy. Have you ever met a prince who wasn't typical of the ruling
class?
"Everybody buys the Derby, because you have to buy a horse or raise
a horse to win the Derby," Salman said. "Spending money is not buying?
Bought the Derby? If you tell me next year who is going to win it, I'll buy
it again."
You tell 'em, Prince. You're entitled. Trainer Bob Baffert quickly
jumped in to back his money man, saying, "Anyone who says that, they are
just jealous of us . If Godolphin knew about it, they would have bought it,
[just like] anybody else."
Salman chimed in with "Anybody in his right mind."
They're right, and paying 900 grand for a nearly finished product
makes more sense than pouring millions into developing one nearly from
scratch. After all of Baffert's Salman-owned 3-year-olds came up short or
got hurt, the Thoroughbred Corp. went to Plan B.
As Salman said, "I've been breeding, I've been buying yearlings,
2-year-olds in training, horses in Argentina, everything. People say, well,
we just bought him [three] weeks ago. I think it's much smarter to buy a
horse [three] weeks ago and win the Kentucky Derby than raise them."
Agreed, and winning is winning, no matter how it's done. Still, no
amount of logic or pragmatism can remove the sour aftertaste lingering from
the 128th Kentucky Derby. Unless you were among the connections of War
Emblem or bet him at 20-1, it was hard to get enthused about a race in which
the first two finishers were 1-2 all the way around. It played out like a
claimer for aged pacers on a half-mile harness track. Is that all there is
to a Derby? This time, yeah.
Besides the shock value of a longshot, there wasn't much to get
emotional about. Salman got in a dig at Sheikh Mohammed by pointing out he
was the first Arab to win the Derby. Baffert won his third Derby and his
seventh Triple Crown race in five years, a monumental achievement, but it's
been a long time since he was the sport's beloved wise guy.
When gutsy Silver Charm gave Baffert his first Derby win in 1997,
it was seen as justice for somebody who was tortured by a nose in the race
the year before. That was before most of us figured out that many of
Baffert's one-liners were scripted, that he played as fast and loose with
the truth as any other shifty horseman, and that he often acted like a baby
when he lost.
Yet you can't deny that he knows how to win the big ones, and
Baffert felt no need to apologize for an unpopular victory.
"It's popular with me," he said five days later on a conference
call. "People that it's not popular with were the ones who didn't pick him
and didn't see what was in front of their face . I was bringing a horse that
was 20-1, not 1-2. The Prince bought a horse that wasn't going to the Derby,
had [knee] chips and had been on the market all winter, so he was taking a
chance."
I asked Baffert about how this Derby compared to his first two
wins, which he accomplished with colts who were his from the beginning.
"The difference is Silver Charm was my first Derby win, and with
Real Quiet, it took a long time to get him going," Baffert said. "This horse
is sort of different. [Before the race], I really didn't know what I
thought, but when he turned for home, it didn't feel any different than the
other two.
"This is a huge win. When I won, I got all the feeling back about
the Derby. I thought that I'd lost it, and with all the disappointment with
General Challenge [in 1999], I thought maybe I wouldn't win the Derby again.
When you win it, it brings all those feelings and great memories back."
Baffert's remarkable success has made him a target, which comes
with the territory. He'd much rather be the guy on top than the
long-suffering sentimental favorite. He's one of the leading trainers in the
world, and the only way to stay on top is to keep winning the classics. If
that means many people will resent him, so be it.
"I saw Wayne Lukas go through this a few years ago," said Baffert,
whose career has paralleled that of the former idol who became his
archrival. "Everybody wants to see the local guy win the Derby. But I want
to win it every year. It's like a football coach not wanting to win the
Super Bowl every year. If he's like that, you don't want him around.
"As long as I'm around, I'll be trying to win it. I just hope I'll
have the horse to do it."
And when he doesn't, it's nice to have an owner who'll sign a big
check to give him one very late in the game.