Legend or latest tease? Smarty isn’t talking
By BOB MOLINARO, The Virginian-Pilot
May 17, 2004
The same Sunday newspaper that carried news of Smarty Jones’ victory in the Preakness contained a nugget of info reporting on the anticipated return to television of “Mr. Ed,” updated and on Fox, so we know it will be done in good taste.
Not to take attention away from the 3-year-old that’s one race away from the Triple Crown, but Mr. Ed is a recognizable, loved figure in American pop culture. Horse racing could use a star like that. Not a talking horse. But a horse that gets people talking.
Smarty Jones is being touted this week as a legend in waiting. Trouble is, the small part of the world that still recognizes horse racing as a major sport has been kept waiting 26 years for another Triple Crown winner.
Last year, Funny Cide was where Smarty Jones is now. Funny Cide was another horse from nowhere, another good story, only one victory away from joining Affirmed, the last Triple Crown winner.
Funny Cide didn’t make it. En route to the Belmont, Funny Cide raised racing’s hopes, only to disappoint.
As War Emblem did the year before that.
Won the first two legs, ate a lot of dust at the Belmont.
The only racing story anybody outside the horse industry follows has been a big tease. Before Smarty Jones came along, five times in the previous seven years, a thoroughbred approached the Belmont with a chance to win the Triple Crown.
Why should anything be different this time? Why won’t Smarty Jones be another tease? Maybe because this horse is the first undefeated Belmont entry since Seattle Slew in 1977. Maybe because no new horse is expected to appear in the next three weeks, because Smarty Jones will encounter in New York many of the same pigeons he’s already whipped.
The racing industry is counting on this horse. After all, it would be a shame to waste another great story, one that has been in place for two weeks and will be told and retold in the coming days.
Maybe you’ve heard: This is the horse from the wrong side of the tracks. From where? Philadelphia. Say no more.
Some other poignant facts that might have made for a decent movie had “Seabiscuit” not beaten everybody to the silver screen: Smarty Jones is ridden by a small-time jockey who was appearing in his first Derby.
The horse with the funny name is trained by a journeyman because the original trainer and his wife were murdered. The owner, 78-year-old Roy ''Chappie’’ Chapman, is wheelchair bound, sucking oxygen from a tank.
Horse racing desperately wants to believe that a four-legged star with an unusual background can create more interest in a fading pastime. You wonder, though. On Saturday’s Preakness broadcast, the governor of Maryland talked about his desire to install slot machines at the tracks. Without them, he said, Maryland can’t remain competitive with facilities in neighboring states.
Slots? So much for the romance of racing. No, the sport has three weeks to milk every drop from this Smarty Jones melodrama. The rest is up to the animal.
Gary Stevens, jockey for second-place Rock Hard Ten, said after the Preakness: “Smarty really reminded me of Secretariat the way he pulled away.”
Comparisons to Secretariat are a real stretch, but with a Belmont victory, Smarty Jones could be transformed into a horse of the people. Sort of like Mr. Ed, only without the back talk.
By BOB MOLINARO, The Virginian-Pilot
May 17, 2004
The same Sunday newspaper that carried news of Smarty Jones’ victory in the Preakness contained a nugget of info reporting on the anticipated return to television of “Mr. Ed,” updated and on Fox, so we know it will be done in good taste.
Not to take attention away from the 3-year-old that’s one race away from the Triple Crown, but Mr. Ed is a recognizable, loved figure in American pop culture. Horse racing could use a star like that. Not a talking horse. But a horse that gets people talking.
Smarty Jones is being touted this week as a legend in waiting. Trouble is, the small part of the world that still recognizes horse racing as a major sport has been kept waiting 26 years for another Triple Crown winner.
Last year, Funny Cide was where Smarty Jones is now. Funny Cide was another horse from nowhere, another good story, only one victory away from joining Affirmed, the last Triple Crown winner.
Funny Cide didn’t make it. En route to the Belmont, Funny Cide raised racing’s hopes, only to disappoint.
As War Emblem did the year before that.
Won the first two legs, ate a lot of dust at the Belmont.
The only racing story anybody outside the horse industry follows has been a big tease. Before Smarty Jones came along, five times in the previous seven years, a thoroughbred approached the Belmont with a chance to win the Triple Crown.
Why should anything be different this time? Why won’t Smarty Jones be another tease? Maybe because this horse is the first undefeated Belmont entry since Seattle Slew in 1977. Maybe because no new horse is expected to appear in the next three weeks, because Smarty Jones will encounter in New York many of the same pigeons he’s already whipped.
The racing industry is counting on this horse. After all, it would be a shame to waste another great story, one that has been in place for two weeks and will be told and retold in the coming days.
Maybe you’ve heard: This is the horse from the wrong side of the tracks. From where? Philadelphia. Say no more.
Some other poignant facts that might have made for a decent movie had “Seabiscuit” not beaten everybody to the silver screen: Smarty Jones is ridden by a small-time jockey who was appearing in his first Derby.
The horse with the funny name is trained by a journeyman because the original trainer and his wife were murdered. The owner, 78-year-old Roy ''Chappie’’ Chapman, is wheelchair bound, sucking oxygen from a tank.
Horse racing desperately wants to believe that a four-legged star with an unusual background can create more interest in a fading pastime. You wonder, though. On Saturday’s Preakness broadcast, the governor of Maryland talked about his desire to install slot machines at the tracks. Without them, he said, Maryland can’t remain competitive with facilities in neighboring states.
Slots? So much for the romance of racing. No, the sport has three weeks to milk every drop from this Smarty Jones melodrama. The rest is up to the animal.
Gary Stevens, jockey for second-place Rock Hard Ten, said after the Preakness: “Smarty really reminded me of Secretariat the way he pulled away.”
Comparisons to Secretariat are a real stretch, but with a Belmont victory, Smarty Jones could be transformed into a horse of the people. Sort of like Mr. Ed, only without the back talk.
