‘I’VE MADE A TERRIFIC MISTAKE’ : How ‘Disappearing Horses’ Caused McCarthy’s Wrong Preakness Call

Clem McCarthy was the best race caller in radio broadcasting history. His rasping, staccato delivery made each race he called singularly dramatic and exciting.

A thoroughbred race was not considered a major event unless he was at the microphone. His “rrrrracing fans” opening of every broadcast was perhaps the best-known chant of the 1930s and ‘40s.

Every year in May they run for the black-eyed Susans, the second leg of the Triple Crown, the Preakness. But for those of us who knew Clem McCarthy, and sadly stood by as he continually had to explain it, there was only one Preakness--the one run May 10, 1947, when Clem called the wrong winner over a nationwide radio hookup.

Clem’s explanation after the race? “The horses disappeared on me for a moment on the far turn.”

I was always curious as to how it happened. So I set out to document it. The result of the investigation? The horses did disappear.

Clem knew he had made the wrong call moments after the race. Every time his faux pas was raised in later years, he jocularly responded: “You can’t lateral race horses.”

The line referred to the peculiar broadcasting habits of Harry Wismer, one of the big-name sportscasters of the pre-television era and the founder of the New York Titans, now the New York Jets.

Wismer was broadcasting an Army football game over the radio during the World War II years when Glenn Davis and Doc Blanchard were running wild. One Saturday afternoon when Wismer was describing the action, it went something like this:

“Army is in its T-formation. . . . The ball is handed off to Glenn Davis, and Davis is away. . . . He’s to the 30, the 40, midfield, the 40, the 30, 20, 10 . . . and, ladies and gentlemen, Davis laterals to Doc Blanchard, who goes in for a touchdown. . . . What a sportsman that Glenn Davis is, tossing a lateral so his teammate could score.”

Of course, what really had happened was that Blanchard had had the ball the whole time, but Wismer didn’t realize it until Doc was in the end zone. So why not a lateral?

This sort of thing was not uncommon with some of the pioneer sports announcers. But Clem McCarthy would have none of it. His was the most golden name in what was known as the “golden age of sportscasting,” the ‘30s and ‘40s when Ted Husing, Bill Stern, Graham MacNamee, Bill Slater, and Clem were household names.

Several years ago, when Clem was dying of Parkinson’s disease, I asked Ed Sullivan to be the narrator of a record album I was putting together, called “The Best of Clem McCarthy.” The proceeds were to go for Clem’s hospital expenses.

One day, I visited Clem in the hospital and asked him if he would mind if I used the Preakness goof. He smiled and agreed.

“I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of,” he said.

Some of the broadcasts to be included on the record were Clem’s two Louis-Schmeling fights, several other championship boxing bouts, the War Admiral-Seabiscuit match race, and a few of his incomparable horse race calls.

Clem died before the album was finished but through the years, after listening over and over again to the 1947 Preakness, a part of the description kept coming back to me. They were the words “and the crowd blocks me for a moment . . .”

I kept wondering how the crowd could block him from his vantage point, which I thought would be an unobstructed view high atop the stands. The words kept haunting me, though, so finally I decided to find out where Clem went wrong. As a film maker, there was only one way I could be certain--instant replay, many years later.

I bought the films of the entire 1947 Preakness from Fox Movietone News. Then I transferred the race’s ETs--electrical transcriptions on a glass disc, the material used to record on at the time--to magnetic tape.

I went to the New York public library and had reprints made of the official racing chart that appeared in the New York Times the day after the Preakness. Now I had in front of me the official positions of each horse at six key stages of the race.

Then, using a motion-picture Moviola, I put Clem’s radio broadcast in synchronization with the film of the actual race, making certain that Clem’s famous growl “They’re off . . . “ hit a split second after the horses broke from the starting gate. The Moviola is to the film maker what instant replay is to videotape. He can start and stop the filmed action in a frame-by-frame sequence, then move backward and forward as he chooses.

The result was eerie. It was like taking a great sports event out of a buried time capsule. Here were the actual sound and picture replays of an event that wasn’t even televised.

Pimlico’s race course is one mile around, and the Preakness distance is 1 3/16 miles, a perfect length for a race caller because of the long opening stretch run.

The race began at the 3/16 pole, which was at the head of the stretch--330 yards to Clem’s left. He would be able to see the horses closely on their preliminary stretch run after leaving the starting gate. Then, after passing in front of the stands for the first time, they would circle the track and once more come into the stretch for the final 3/16 and the finish line.

The horses to watch were Jet Pilot, Phalanx, Faultless and On Trust. They had finished in that order two weeks before in the Kentucky Derby.

Phalanx, who just missed overtaking Derby winner Jet Pilot at the wire, was the 11-10 favorite. Eddie Arcaro was riding Phalanx, and that didn’t hurt at the betting windows. Faultless was the second choice, and Jet Pilot and the California-bred On Trust, ridden by Johnny Longden, were third and fourth on the tote board. The other seven horses had little play. King Bay was fifth choice at 24-1, and the others ranged to 90-1.

Clem teased the longshot players as the horses broke clean and charged in front of him.

“They’re off . . . and they got away together, and Jet Pilot beat Phalanx away from the gate. . . . But Secnav (56-1) and Cornish Knight (58-1) are coming to him . . . and Cornish Knight on the inside is getting different riding tactics today.”

As they moved away from him into the clubhouse turn, Jet Pilot was in the lead, followed by King Bay. On Trust was third, and Clem had them all. Then he reported: “Now you want to know about Phalanx. Well, he’s next to last.”

It was evident that Clem would be looking for Phalanx throughout the race. Not only was he the favorite, but Phalanx was well known for his late charge.

They moved down the backstretch toward the half-mile pole, and Clem perfectly called the rush of On Trust as he moved past Jet Pilot and King Bay to take a 2 1/2-length lead.

At 1 minute 5 seconds into the race, in the middle of the backstretch, Clem reported:

“And On Trust has opened up 2 1/2 lengths. . . . Eric Guerin is content to let him do it, and he drops back with Jet Pilot into second place. . . . King Bay is third and Secnav is fourth, Cosmic Bomb is fifth, and on the outside is Faultless in sixth place. . . . Phalanx is now next to last . . . and now moving . . . moving very fast on the outside of the horses . . . He is now seventh and making his drive.”

When he correctly called Faultless in sixth place, it was the first and only time Faultless was mentioned until after the horses had crossed the finish line. It was at this point in Clem’s call that his misfortunes began:

“They’re coming up on On Trust again. . . . On Trust a length and a half in the lead, but he seems to have plenty left. . . . Jet Pilot is second by a length, Secnav is third, Cosmic Bomb on the outside, King Bay is dropping back . . . and here comes Phalanx on the outside . . . is now fifth in the upper part of the turn.”

In that 15-second burst, Clem had to contend with a montage of horses changing positions. At the front end, On Trust and Jet Pilot remained 1-2. But right behind the leaders, there was action aplenty. King Bay and Secnav, in third and fourth, began to fade just as Faultless and Cosmic Bomb started their drives. The scene was a visual hodgepodge and in the change-over, Clem did not call Faultless’ move.

Actually, Faultless was moving between the fading King Bay and Secnav, but Clem left the muddle to pick up the dramatic rush of Phalanx, who was passing horses on the outside. However, there was still plenty of time for Clem to make his adjustments and find Faultless, who was now in third on the rail behind On Trust and Jet Pilot.

But at this point in the middle of a far turn and just a few yards after the horses passed the quarter pole, Clem ran into two of the most unbelievable pieces of bad luck ever to befall a sports announcer.

He reported: “ . . . And it is still On Trust heading for home, but he’s got his hands full . . . and the crowd blocks me for a moment . . . “

The horses had indeed disappeared. The film clearly shows that hundreds of fans, in order to get a better view of the race, had climbed to various perches on top of and alongside the starting gate, which had been drawn to the infield near the rail on the far turn.

A solid mass of people blotted out about 70 yards of the bend and at that point, Clem had absolutely no view of the race. So now I, these many years later, was in the same position as Clem. The horses had disappeared.

Then, I got lucky. I called Fox Movietone News and asked them if there was any additional film that had not been used in the version shown in the theaters. They sent over a small roll of “out-takes.” When I had the roll printed and had screened it, an incredible sequence unfolded.

The “out-takes” turned out to be the 1947 version of the isolated camera used in today’s videotape replay. The camera position was at the head of the stretch, and the cameraman was able to film clearly all the action that happened from the quarter pole to the 3/16 pole in close-up--the actual distance where the horses disappeared from Clem’s view.

On Trust on the inside was in the lead with Jet Pilot alongside, three-quarters of a length behind. Faultless lay third, directly behind On Trust. Outside the leaders, a few lengths farther behind, were Cosmic Bomb in fourth and Phalanx in fifth.

The horses continued to circle the turn, but from his vantage point Clem could not see that Jet Pilot was starting to bear out. As Jet Pilot moved farther outside, jockey Doug Dodson aboard Faultless also moved out from behind On Trust and began to plug the spot vacated by Jet Pilot.

At this point from Clem’s vantage point, the horses went behind the mass of spectators standing on the starting gate. In the 70 yards they were out of Clem’s sight, Faultless continued moving in between On Trust and Jet Pilot.

When they came out of the turn and Clem could finally see them again, Faultless was almost in the exact position Jet Pilot had held before they disappeared.

The change-over took exactly two seconds--48 frames of 35mm film.

The similar silks--devil red for Faultless and cerise for Jet Pilot--the shock of seeing the horses disappear, and the change-over taking place while they were out of his sight made it an impossible task for Clem to pick it up when they roared off the turn into the stretch at the 3/16 pole.

In fact, Clem’s description was continuous, without missing a beat:

“And it is still On Trust heading for home, but he’s got his hands full . . . and the crowd blocks me for a moment . . . and when they come out of there, Jet Pilot is head and head with him (it was really Faultless) . . . Jet Pilot and On Trust are head and head . . . but Longden has not gone to the whip. . . . He’s got plenty of horse under him . . . and on the outside Phalanx away out in the middle of the track. . . .”

The stretch drive is history. Clem called it Jet Pilot and On Trust all the way to the wire.

Actually, Jet Pilot was all through. He was now outside of both On Trust and Faultless and beginning to fade.

“This is going to be an awful horse race down here (he meant awful tough), but On Trust is still there. . . . Jet Pilot is coming at him like a game horse. . . . Jet Pilot has got him. Jet Pilot a neck. Jet Pilot a half a length. Jet Pilot by a length. . . . On Trust second by three . . . Phalanx is third and in fourth place . . . “

There was a three-second pause.

” What am I talking about? Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve made a terrific mistake. I’ve mixed my horses, and I’ve given you the winner as Jet Pilot . . . and it is Faultless.

“Just at what point, I was looking at Phalanx and Jet Pilot disappeared on me, I don’t know.

“The winner of the race is Faultless. . . . All right, we missed. . . . We struck out. . . . Well, Babe Ruth struck out once, so I might just as well get in famous company.”