Solis’ mind is back in saddle

The demons, Alex Solis says, would always come at night, when the house was quiet and he was alone with his thoughts.

“There were so many times that I got up in the middle of the night and I was crying,” he remembers. “I knew my mind was playing games with me and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Arguably the best jockey in the country until a horrifying spill fractured his back and shattered his confidence nearly five years ago, Solis saw his career slipping away. On some days after his injury, he was as good as any rider at the track. But on too many others he could be timid, making him little more than a passenger on the back of his horse.

“I knew I was cheating myself and cheating my family. And worst of all, owners and trainers and horses and horse racing in general,” says Solis, 45. “I knew that I had the option to retire, but I wasn’t ready. I love what I do and I needed to find a solution.”

Seven months ago he found it in the tough love of a friend, who helped him rebuild his career with little more than tape and a rubber band. As a result, he’ll be riding the favorite in Saturday’s 72nd Santa Anita Derby aboard The Pamplemousse, the horse he hopes to ride in next month’s Kentucky Derby.

And between the two races, he could be inducted into horse racing’s Hall of Fame, which announces its next class April 20.

But before Solis could dream of such heights, he had to deal with some lows -- all of which began with the jockey lying in the dirt under the safety rail at Del Mar on a beautiful summer day in 2004.

Solis and his mount, a 4-year-old dark brown mare named Golden K K, were well back in a $32,000 claiming race when they were crowded against the rail by Vegas Foil, who had an apprentice jockey on top. The horses clipped heels, sending Golden K K and her rider sprawling to the track near the quarter pole.

The horse was unhurt, but Solis had a fractured vertebra, a punctured lung and three broken ribs, injuries that would require nine months and a risky surgery to heal. His psyche, however, had sustained far worse damage.

“After I came back . . . for whatever reason my mind started playing games on me,” says the Panamanian-born jockey, who estimates he had broken nearly two dozen bones in other racing accidents before his spill at Del Mar. “There were some times where, in my mind, I froze. Or I was more cautious. It hurt me because I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

What hurt even more, though, was seeing the trainers and owners who had once lined up for Solis’ services quickly turn their backs whenever he entered the room.

“Trainers will look the other way,” says Hall of Fame jockey Chris McCarron, who sustained a number of serious injuries before retiring seven years ago as thoroughbred racing’s all-time leader in earnings. “Trainers only want hungry riders. They don’t want riders that are content or complacent.”

McCarron, however, refused to turn his back or look the other way. Instead, he stared straight into Solis’ eyes and challenged him.

“It was like, ‘Do you want to be in the Hall of Fame or not?’ ” McCarron remembers of their conversation last summer. “Simple as that. He was the leading rider out in California for years. I’d hate to see all of that be unrecognized. And the best recognition he could possibly receive is induction into the Hall of Fame.”

McCarron’s talk sent Solis off in search of something that had worked before -- something he and McCarron had first talked about nearly 25 years earlier when Solis left Florida to start riding in Southern California. His salvation, he decided, was in the words of empowerment gurus such as Anthony Robbins and Jack Canfield who teach, in part, that fear of failure is often the biggest impediment to success.

“I started putting all these tapes in my iPod and I started listening,” Solis says of the motivational recordings. “I had to overcome all this horrible fear. So I put in my mind ‘I’m going to start thinking I’m 25 and starting again.’ And then I started feeling differently. Instead of . . . feeling sorry for myself, I started looking more at the possibility of finding all the great things I always wanted.”

To remind himself, Solis wears a simple rubber band on his left wrist. And whenever his thoughts turn negative, he reaches down and gives the band a snap.

“For anybody that has gone through this kind of pain, suffering, you have to be clear what life means to you,” Solis says. “And what my life means to me is, I know I could be hurt, whatever. But what’s my destiny? God gave me this talent for racing and I have to fulfill my life. It’s so clear.”

A win in the Kentucky Derby will certainly help, because for all of his success -- Solis ranks ninth all-time in terms of winnings with more than $212 million -- none of his 4,669 victories have come in the Derby. And his only Triple Crown win came 23 years ago in the Preakness aboard Snow Chief.

But while a Kentucky Derby win would be the pinnacle of Solis’ 28-year career, it won’t be the end of it. Solis’ wife, Sheila, says the couple is comfortable enough financially that her husband could retire now -- especially with his wine label Jinetes (Spanish for jockeys) about to launch -- but he’s comfortable mentally only when he’s at the track.

“What else would he do?” she said moments before Solis rode a 3-year-old named Tavern to a stirring stretch victory in a claiming race at Santa Anita. “This is his passion. This is what he loves to do.”

Besides, she says, it has been a long time since he enjoyed riding as much as he does now. And after surviving the bad times, doesn’t he deserve a chance to relish the good?

“I just feel blessed,” Solis says. “One thing led to another and now I’m riding one of the best 3-year-olds in the country.

“It’s just a blessing to get your life back and have control of your mind.”

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kevin.baxter@latimes.com