Going Into History or Oblivion

The proposition is not really whether Alysheba goes to join Sir Barton, Gallant Fox, Omaha, Citation and the rest of the 11 Triple Crown winners in horse racing.

The proposition is whether he goes to join Pensive, Tim Tam, Carry Back, Northern Dancer, Canonero II and the others of the 10 who came within a photo or a fence post of racing immortality and just failed.

It’s like the fugitive who gets shot the night before he’s supposed to cross the border to safety, the guy who sells his house the week before they find oil under it. He becomes the horse racing equivalent of the vice president or the guys who played next to James Cagney or Spencer Tracy in the movies. He’d better keep a scrapbook. Nobody is going to remember him. He’s history’s understudy.

It’s a shame to come so close. It’s like being second to Jesse Owens in the Olympics, or one of Joe Louis’ opponents. Like losing a poker hand you go into with three aces.

But, it’s happened to a lot of horses in the Belmont. It’s not a race, it’s a graveyard. Twenty-one trainer-owner-jockey combinations came here with a chance to become a statue in the paddock. Eleven made it. The 10 others became stepchildren of history.

An even sadder cast of characters than the 10 who came up a buck short at the Belmont might be the half-dozen who went on to win the Preakness and the Belmont after leaving the Kentucky Derby lying on the table. Man o’ War, no less, winner of both the Preakness and the Belmont, was almost one of these. But Man o’ War had a big excuse. He never ran in the Derby.

Native Dancer’s story is much sadder. Native Dancer lost only one race in his entire career. Now, if you’re going to lose only one race in your entire career, Churchill Downs on the first Saturday in May is not the place to do it.

Native Dancer lost the 1953 Derby by a head in one of the historic injustices of all sports history. The horse that beat him never won another race. Native Dancer never lost another one.

Native Dancer was not the only victim. In 1955, Nashua was well beaten by Swaps, who then skipped the Preakness and the Belmont, which were won by Nashua, who then beat Swaps in a match race in Illinois that summer.

Damascus, in 1967, ran third in the Kentucky Derby to Proud Clarion, a horse he was to put away easily in the Preakness and Belmont. In 1974, a horse called Little Current closed from 23rd to 5th in the stretch at Louisville, then won the Preakness by seven lengths and the Belmont by the same margin.

No one ever mixed up Alysheba with Man o’ War. Or Native Dancer, for all of that. More to the point is whether he will join the select 11 this weekend at the Belmont or whether he will become just another guy who lost his watch and wallet in the big city.

He’s won the first two parts of the Triple Crown. Now comes the hard part.

Trainer Jack Van Berg has trained more winners than any other trainer in history. But none of them put you in mind of Citation. Jack won so many races where the roof leaked, and so did the horses, that rival trainer, Woody Stephens, was moved to warn him this week that “this ain’t Omaha.”

No one is ever likely to confuse Omaha with New York, but Jack Van Berg is not ready to settle for Alysheba taking his position in racing annals alongside Pleasant Colony, Spectacular Bid, Canonero II, Kauai King or any of those other nice little sprinters who gave up the chase when the traffic got up to a mile and a half and the turns deeper and the buildings higher.

Alysheba did not break any clocks in his victories at Churchill Downs and Pimlico. His 2:03 2/5 at Louisville and his 1:55 4/5 at Baltimore would beat a truck to a crossing but have not scared anybody out of the Belmont. Van Berg is unworried.

Alysheba is like a golf or pool hustler, Jack says. He does just enough to beat you. He wins the bet, not the gold watch. He’s like the golfer who shoots a 72 if you shoot a 73, or a 67 if you shoot a 68. If he was a pitcher, he’d be like Juan Marichal, who used to pitch 16-hit shutouts. A fighter who will outpoint you without getting a black eye.

“He saves himself,” Van Berg says. He won’t go to his A pitch until there are men on base. He won’t slug unless he’s cornered. He doesn’t use the driver unless he’s one down.

In the 113 years of the Kentucky Derby, only three horses ever came to and won the race as maidens--non-winners. Only one of them, Sir Barton, went on to win the Triple Crown.

Alysheba very nearly was the fourth maiden to win at Kentucky. He had won only one inconsequential race for maidens at a log cabin track on the Ohio-Kentucky border before loading into the gate at Churchill.

The race he ran in Kentucky was only the second win of his career but the way he won it let the world know he was all horse. Like Dempsey, he came off the floor. He was sent to his knees in the homestretch but got up to knock out his opponent, Bet Twice, at the bell.

He’s game, methodical. He makes his fight, keeps coming. He’s like a canny old investor who wins off the interest of his talent, though, never dipping into his capital till he really needs it.

Will he need it Saturday? Well, the field is full of horses he has already beaten. The question would seem to have been asked and answered. Horses, like humans, tend to get discouraged when they’re overmatched. The evidence is, this field has been overmatched with Alysheba.

The times don’t dismay his trainer. “Time only counts in prison,” Van Berg scoffs. “I’ve seen cheap horses win in 1:09 against cheap horses but they can’t break 1:12 when they’re in against a horse they know is better.”

That the race isn’t in Omaha doesn’t bother either the trainer or the horse. “He thinks he’s in San Diego,” Van Berg cracks.

To rival trainer Woody Stephens’ taunt that “the buildings start to look awfully tall when you cross the Hudson,” Van Berg retorts: “The race isn’t run on Park Avenue.”

Even if it were, he thinks Alysheba could beat this bunch. In fact, if he could beat them after going to one knee, he could probably beat them not only in Times Square but in quicksand, if he had to.