Thinkin’ Derby

Just a few days until the annual rite of julep-quaffing, hat-wearing, C-list celebrity elbow-rubbing, and horse-gawking known as the Kentucky Derby arrives.

My wife and I have gone intermittently to the Derby, but we won’t be in attendance this year. This means that — at least in theory — my losses for the day should be limited to what I wager, as opposed to the flight, hotel, ticket, and of course, julep money that has leapt from my wallet the last couple of years.

Not being in attendance is good for me. It will prevent me from cluttering up my mind with information that won’t help me. Had I not gone last year, for example, I would never have known what a fit and gorgeous horse Zanjero was. And not knowing that would certainly have saved me some money Derby day.

Moreover, had I not gone last year, I would not have had the opportunity to ignore the virtually unanimous advice of those who’d been poking around the backstretch for the week — that Street Sense was truly in his glory and ready to run a huge effort. Ha! Those “insiders” couldn’t fool me with their dastardly efforts to give everyone within earshot the winner; I didn’t fall for that trick.

Still, some Derbies have been more profitable than that for me. Here’s a couple of my favorite Derby memories:

* The guy who sidled up to me at the hotel bar and announced that he had a system. I sighed; systems never work. But I asked what it was anyway, because I can’t resist the lure of a good story. Sure enough: “Always bet on a horse whose name has an ‘R’ as the third letter,” he confided. That year’s winner? Barbaro. Then, of course, Street Sense. This year? Pyro?

* The earnest, hardworking waitstaff at various Louisville restaurants who kept assuring us that the Derby Pie was not made on premises (turns out it’s a trademarked product only available from one place). “Oh, no, we don’t make it,” said one. “We get it right from the manufacturer.” A pie manufacturer?

* Of course, they also don’t know what’s in it. One waiter, when queried, replied, “It’s, uh… chocolate… and pie… filling.” Got that?

* Pre-Derby Thursday visits to the backstretch the last couple of years, and the chance to gawk at the big-time horses: Street Sense, Barbaro, and a beautiful filly named Rags to Riches. Perhaps you’ve heard of her…

* The teller’s reaction when I cashed my War Emblem-Proud Citizen exacta: after that race, I couldn’t find the payouts anywhere in our far corner of the grandstand. Finally, when I went to cash the teller asked, smilingly, if I’d hit a big one. I told her that I wasn’t sure but thought I might have. As the numbers popped up on the screen, her eyes widened and she gasped, “You did hit a big one!”

* The two drunk college-age guys who, after the Derby one year, walked back up to their hotel singing “Where the Turf Meets the Surf,” the Del Mar theme song. Over and over and over. Catchy tune, but still…

* Weekends spent with friends old and new at the racetrack — now there’s a can’t miss proposition!

On the other hand, my musings for this year fall in the “likely to miss” category, especially since I’m discussing them in public without, technically, having handicapped for even one second. Still, one thing I’ve learned over the years is that this race, more than any other, is one that people (read: me) are likely to overthink.

I’ll echo Andy Beyer in this regard: my best Derby scores ultimately came not from an exhaustive survey of every race run by every horse, but from one particular insight. For example, with Funny Cide: if you’d watched the Wood that year, and thrown out Bobby Frankel’s claims that Empire Maker could have won as he pleased, you’d have seen that Funny Cide was getting to Empire Maker at the end, and would have caught him in a longer race. When one of those was the chalk on Derby day and the other a 12-1 outsider, it became an easy choice. So, my best advice is not to overthink this race; find something you can grab onto, and hold it for dear life!

Other thoughts:

* I have a hard time seeing either of Pletcher’s pair — Monba and Cowboy Cal — having much impact on this race. By the way, kudos to blogging colleague Swifty for informing us of this little tidbit: Todd Pletcher stands on the brink of a Derby record of the sort we’d never associate with the win machine he’s become: first trainer to train the last place finisher in the Derby three straight years and the first to train five tail-enders.

* The hand-wringing over the prep races run on the synthetic surfaces strikes me as somewhat overdone. Still, for myself, I’ll demand that a horse have demonstrated decent form on regular dirt before playing him in the Derby; for example, if you were a Monba fan (which I’m really not) you could argue that his Fountain of Youth was a toss and point back to a good allowance win at Churchill over Macho Again. For others — like Colonel John, impressive in the Santa Anita Derby — you’ve got no regular dirt form at all. Tough to take less than a good number on those types, in my opinion.

* In my mind, the last time a Derby trainer was as publicly confident — bordering on arrogant — as Dutrow is now with Big Brown was Frankel and Empire Maker. How’d that work out?

* You certainly can’t fault Big Brown’s efforts to date; heck, no one’s been anywhere near him even at the stretch call in his three races to date. He dispelled most lingering doubts by thrashing the Florida Derby field in fine style. Still, I’m not sure I’d want short odds on a horse with three starts against competition he absolutely obliterated. He looks kinda like Curlin — supremely talented, light on seasoning — and that one was one race short of where he needed to be on the first Saturday in May. On the other hand, for that analogy to work, you also need Street Sense and Hard Spun, and it’s hard to find them here.

* A lot of folks loved Z Fortune’s race in the Arkansas Derby. I’m not one of them. What was more interesting than his being wide on the turns is that when he ranged up on Gayego, he couldn’t get by. In fact, once he moved within about a length, that was it — no more progress. Had they gone around the track another time, he still wouldn’t have gotten by. Of the pair, I’ll take Gayego.

* I don’t think Bob Black Jack will win. But I love to watch the horse run; he’s got a beautiful, smooth stride and seems to float across the course.

* I don’t think Eight Belles will win, either, but she could. She’s earned her shot at the race.

* In that vein, there was a lot of hand-wringing over her being cross-entered. I suppose if I’d owned one of the bubble horses, I’d have been frustrated, too — but I can’t blame the filly’s connections at all. Trainers often cross-enter horses in search of the right spot, and I can’t blame Jones for doing it in this case. It may make the case that the Derby should have an also-eligible list, but it doesn’t make the case that Eight Belles’ connections did anything wrong. I suspect every owner and trainer in that spot would make the exact same decisions.

The last couple years, I’ve handicapped the Derby absolutely to death, changing and re-changing my picks until they were fine-tuned just perfectly — and wrong.

This year? I’m gonna treat it like the third race on a Thursday at Pimlico, say a $14,000 claimer. Look it through, assess horses’ form, think about the pace, make a decision — get in, get out, get on the way.

I’ll probably still be wrong, but at least I won’t have agonized over the process!

Good luck, everyone!