Decision Makes Financial Sense, Not Horse Sense

By now, everybody involved in the Spend A Buck controversy has been heard from. Everyone except Spend himself, the kid who is doing the running.

What say? Horses can’t talk?

Wrong.

There are people now who claim to be able to converse with horses.

I don’t know why a horse would want to talk to a human, other than to ask where we get our funny shoes.

But maybe it’s time we allowed the horses, through these horsy interpreters, to have a voice in their own career decisions.

Right now would be a good time to start, with Spend A Buck.

“Big fella,” his owner would ask, “would you rather run in the Preakness or the Jersey Derby?”

“What’s the difference, boss?”

“Well, in the Preakness, you would be running for prestige. In the Jersey Derby, you would be running for money.”

“And if I rake in all this money in Jersey, will I become a candidate to appear on ‘Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous’? Will you buy me a beach barn on Maui? A Gucci saddle? A pepperoni pizza?”

“Well, no. I will have your stall repainted. . . . “

“On the other hand, if I win the Preakness, I’m on my way to a Triple Crown, which will greatly enhance my popularity around the singles barns when I’m finally--as you so delicately put it--standing at stud.”

“Maybe, but. . . . “

“Look, pal, you only go around once in life, I’m going for the gusto.”

“And I’m going for the Pepto. Why do I try to talk sense to a horse who gets his philosophy of life from TV beer commercials?”

Unfortunately, Spend A Buck’s owner, Dennis Diaz, didn’t consult with Spend before deciding to pass up the major league Preakness and run his horse in a bush league race in Jersey.

Once again, the sport of horse racing has blown its cover.

It has exposed itself as being as much a sport as is a game of street-corner dice.

Horse people are always trying to convince the skeptics that racing really is a sport, not just a big state lottery on hoofs.

They tell us about the beauty and grace of the animals, the excitement and tradition of the sport. Then they take the money and run.

Great champions have been retired to stud after the equivalent of their rookie year. And now the horse of the decade comes along and his owner sells out his chances at the Triple Crown for a few dollars. OK, a few million.

“We’ll get it next year, big fella,” is probably what Diaz told Spend A Buck.

Some people will sympathize with Diaz. He can make himself a quick $2.6 million by winning the Jersey race.

At the Preakness, a win would be worth only $300,000.

But what the heck, Diaz only paid $12,500 for the horse. You pay more than that for a halfway decent new car, which can’t even stand at stud.

Many fans and members of the media were critical of Olympic heroes Carl Lewis and Bill Johnson for expressing a desire to cash in on their glory. But at least Lewis and Johnson didn’t skip the Olympics to earn big bucks by competing in the “Battle of the Network Stars.”

Diaz is letting down his sport. If anything can bring fans to horse racing, it’s a fast, front-running, dashing horse such as Spend A Buck.

Superstars are in short supply these days, and sports fans are eager and willing to adopt even a four-legged one. A horse like Spend A Buck can capture the public’s collective imagination.

But not by running in a minor league race in Jersey. It won’t matter how fast Spend A Buck runs in that race. Who would remember Willie Mays’ catch off Vic Wertz in 1954 if it had taken place in spring training? Or in the Sally League?

The racing establishment doesn’t get off the hook here, either. Through arrogance, racing’s powers have allowed the Triple Crown to be devalued to the equivalent of a dime-store tiara.

Like the Boston Marathon people, who have let that race fade to minor league status by refusing to confront the realities of amateurism, the Triple Crown people have sacrificed prestige by not keeping their purses competitive.

They lost Spend A Buck by trying to save a buck.

Still, Diaz is the main heavy of the hour. If he owned the Dodgers, he would probably pass up the World Series for a more lucrative barnstorming tour of Japan.

Tradition? Glory? Ultimate competition? Who needs it?

Maybe the horse does. Racing people constantly try to humanize their animals. A trainer or owner will talk about how his or her horse has a lot of heart, or is very intelligent, or loves the thrill of racing and really understands his purpose for being on the track, or really responds to the cheers of the fans.

If that’s so, then in this case at least, the animals have an edge on the humans.