A Terrifying Moment for Robbie Davis

A horse named Go Boberiba was flying past the leaders in the stretch run of a race here Monday when he snapped his leg and sent jockey Robbie Davis hurtling toward the ground. There was only a moment before Davis hit the hard Del Mar track, but that moment evoked the most terrifying, tragic, traumatic moment of his life.

“I was thinking, ‘No, please! Please!’ Davis said. He knew that two other horses in the field were coming up behind him. “I was just waiting for the contact. I tried to tuck up and roll as quickly as I could.”

The circumstances at Del Mar were frighteningly similar to those of the fifth race at Belmont Park on Oct. 13, 1988, only then it had been Davis aboard the horse bearing down on a fallen jockey. Davis was riding Drums in the Night, sitting just behind Mr. Walter K., when that horse broke down. The jockey in front of him popped out of the saddle and Davis took hold of his mount trying to find a way to avoid the fallen rider. He couldn’t. Drums in the Night hit the jockey’s head with enough force to split his skull.

With the race still in progress, Davis yelled at the jockey alongside him, Nick Santagata. “Nick, who was that? I just killed him.”

“Venezia!” Santagata hollered.

Davis’ friend, Mike Venezia, had died instantly.

The experience would have been horrible for anyone, but for Davis it was particularly so. Writer Bill Nack chronicled the jockey’s life story in a riveting article for Sports Illustrated. He related how the tragedy not only plunged Davis into a prolonged depression, but also called up childhood memories that he had suppressed his whole life.

As a child Davis had been the victim of continual sexual abuse by his stepfather, but he had locked away the memories until the Venezia tragedy worked as a catharsis that released all of those pent-up emotions.

At the time, Davis was established as one of the top two or three jockeys in New York; he ranked sixth in the country in purse winnings. But the ride on Drums in the Night was his last in New York. For months he grappled with his emotions, and a sense of guilt.

“I blamed myself for a long time,” he said. “If I could have pulled my horse off him, it would have been just another horse going down, just another day.”

Months passed until Davis felt he could ride again, and when he did he decided to come West. Davis had grown up in Idaho and had launched his career at little tracks there; he had attended the races for the first time at Santa Anita.

“Riding here was I dream I’d always had -- a new challenge,” he said. “And it was different surroundings -- different people and trainers and riders.” Moreover, he would be putting physical distance between himself and the site of the Venezia tragedy.

Davis had to establish himself with the trainers here, which he did almost immediately by hooking up with a top agent, Jeff Franklin. Then he had to adapt himself to the speed-oriented California riding style, which is almost antithetical to the one that prevails in New York. “You have to come out of the gate riding hard for at least a 16th or an eighth of a mile no matter what you’re on,” Davis said. “I was overaggressive when I did it at first, and I’m still working on it.”

But Davis nevertheless adjusted well enough to establish himself as one of the top members of the most talented jockey colony in the world. At Hollywood Park he ranked fourth in the standings behind Laffit Pincay, Chris McCarron and Gary Stevens.

On Monday, the day he climbed aboard Go Boberiba, he ranked second in the Del Mar standings, one winner behind Pincay. “I’m very surprised,” Davis said. “And I’m thrilled to death.”

Go Boberiba had sat behind two pacesetters in the five-horse field, then swooped outside them and was rushing toward the lead when he broke down. “He didn’t give me much indication,” Davis said. “When I hit the ground, I hit real hard.” Just behind him were the flying hooves of Scout of Fortune, ridden by Stevens. Davis waited for the impact.

There was none. Stevens had altered his course and managed to miss Davis. Even so, when Davis tried to move, he couldn’t. “I thought I’d broken my neck,” he said. “When I hit it sounded like it cracked.”

The track ambulance rushed Davis to a hospital for tests and X-rays. All proved negative. The next morning he was in the Del Mar stable area, exercising horses, and when racing resumed Wednesday he was back in action. Even though the near-calamity surely revived memories of Oct. 13, 1988, Davis had reached the point that he could immediately get on with his life.

“You can never put something like that behind you -- and I don’t want to,” Davis said. “It makes you respect other riders, and it keeps you in touch with reality. Risks are part of the game, right?”