Horse Sense: Barbaro And The Sad State Of Horse Racing

by Bryan Joiner

On May 6th, Barbaro, an undefeated colt from Pennsylvania, obliterated the field in the Kentucky Derby, winning by six and a half lengths, the largest margin of victory in years. Two weeks later, he obliterated his right hind ankle at the Preakness Stakes, throwing his life into danger. A horse cannot survive with three working limbs, because the circulatory system gets infected and it eventually the animal has to be destroyed.

Every day has been a battle to survive for Barbaro, and news organizations have followed the story with appropriate concern. The “Sport of Kings” hasn’t had a king in a while, but you can chart Barbaro’s progress just by the headlines. Friday, “Barbaro doing ‘much better’ Friday morning;” Saturday, “Barbaro Stable After ‘Very Good Night’;” on Sunday, the quizzical “Barbaro Remains Stable, In ‘Good Frame Of Mind’;” (“You still feeling bad,  Barbie?” “Neigh.”). The most touching story was Friday’s “Jockey Prado Visits Barbaro,” which detailed how Edgar Prado, who led Barbaro to the Derby win, came to the colt’s stall. Barbaro recognized him immediately, put his head on Prado’s shoulder, and fell asleep.

People love this horse. He has been bigger news than the ongoing baseball season, Wimbledon and even NASCAR. As of this writing, he is still in stable condition. Horse racing has become a sport without a star for 28 years, and it finally has one – in the hospital.

That’s a bad sign for horse racing.

Barbaro’s tale has all the hallmarks of the classic sports story: he’s the champion prematurely on death’s door, the horse who could have been a contender, “The Natural” without the Wonderboy. But the mythic Roy Hobbs, “The Natural” himself, recovered from a gunshot wound to reach the top of baseball. If Barbaro recovers, it will be to reach the top of His Girl Friday as a stud (“Wow, you’re hung like a…”), not to race. This is the problem.

Thoroughbred racing has no Michael Jordan- or Tiger Woods-level personality. For all the money spent on thoroughbred racing, horses are no faster now than they were decades ago. It’s hard for one to stand out. Breeding a horse for maximum racing speed is an expensive, inexact science with few breakthroughs. Secretariat, the most fabled race horse in modern history, broke records not because of science but because he had an abnormally large heart that pumped blood faster than any colt or mare before or since. All the other top horses are pretty much the same. That’s why not one of them has swept the Triple Crown races in 28 years.

Had Barbaro won the Preakness, in which he was hurt early in the race, or the Belmont, his fame would have faded instantly. Now he’s a legend. Casual fans are worried about the poor animal’s life; those lucky enough to like Barbaro in Louisville are concerned because counted cash marches in lockstep with minted memories. Barbaro’s trainers also see dollars signs, because his DNA is worth millions of dollars. Veterinary doctors see a patient with a soul they want to save.

I see a sport that is dying, with a dying horse as its emblem. People either love horse racing, with its storied history and seedy present-day underbelly, or they ignore it. Once the Barbaro stories subside, hopefully after some good news, I’m going to back to the latter until something really spectacular happens.

(Photo from Flickr.)

Comments

[chris]

"Secretariat, the most fabled race horse in modern history, broke records not because of science but because he had an abnormally large heart that pumped blood faster than any colt or mare before or since."

This is a real clinical explanation for the most storied horse ever.

I'd rather sit here with my anthropomorphized description of Secretariat as having "the most heart" ever.

I think the real story is just like the above. You place on Barbaro the poetics of a tragic athlete, yet then describe Secretariat as a machine with a big ticker.

That parallax is where our deep-seated paganism lies.

Ta-tunka,
Chris

[Horsey H. McHorsenfeld]

The problem with horse racing is its image. People think of it as an old man's event, and it's easy to see why. Outside of a handful of big events, go to a racetrack and what do you see: a bunch of raggedy old dudes and rundown gambling addicts huddled beneath the TV screens inside - not even watching the races. They need to remarket horse racing to the youth the same way they market Vegas. Otherwise, this guy is going to win:
http://horsehater.blogspot.com/

[Maisie]

Poor Barbaro! I cant belive he died!!