He’s Back in the Saddle Again : Horse racing: Jockey Patrick Valenzuela returns to racing with burden of proving he is done with drugs.

Patrick Valenzuela sat with his mother and a few friends in his Arcadia home, watching the worst-case scenario unfold Nov. 4.

Eight days earlier, the 27-year-old jockey had been slapped with a 60-day suspension after testing positive for cocaine. The most dramatic consequence suffered by Valenzuela was losing the mount on Sunday Silence, the horse he rode to victory in the Kentucky Derby and Preakness. The colt was being readied for the $3-million Breeders’ Cup Classic at Gulfstream Park.

Now, as Valenzuela watched the Classic unfold on television, it became apparent that Sunday Silence was going to win the race. Fighting back tears, he found himself cheering for the black colt and his new jockey, Chris McCarron.

When Sunday Silence flashed past the wire a neck in front of Easy Goer, Valenzuela felt like the loneliest man on earth. He also felt the old, familiar tug of cocaine.

“Oh yeah, I thought about using after watching the race,” Valenzuela said recently. “That was supposed to be me in the winner’s circle that day.

“And I would have used before. But this time I stopped myself. I didn’t use. And when I didn’t, I thought to myself, ‘If I can get through something like this without using, I can get through anything.’ ”

Valenzuela will get a chance to prove it starting today, when he returns to competition with a full afternoon’s work on Santa Anita’s opening-day program. Valenzuela will have eight mounts, including the contender Premium Award in the featured Malibu Stakes.

Valenzuela’s transgressions have met with a variety of reactions. He has received his share of hate mail from those who thought he should have been banned from the sport. At the same time, fans have stopped him in shopping malls and street corners to pat him on the back and wish him well.

His status as one of the best riders of his generation has never been questioned. Hailed as a natural from the moment he burst onto the Southern California scene in 1979, Valenzuela has a reputation as the finest gate rider in the business. And he has shed his image as a front-running speed jockey by winning nearly every major distance race on the local circuit.

There appears to be a solid core of support among establishment trainers and owners who are willing to give Valenzuela the benefit of the doubt as he battles back from cocaine and alcohol addiction.

“I’m addicted to cigarettes,” said trainer Brian Mayberry. “So I know what his body is going through. It’s not easy. He deserves a chance.”

It is trainers such as Mayberry who control Valenzuela’s destiny. The jockey must persuade them that he has changed. Valenzuela’s history of unexplained absences, ill health and erratic behavior hangs over him like a cloud, with only his exceptional ability showing through the haze.

“It’s a real dilemma,” said John Sadler, who trains Premium Award. “I’m not that crazy about riding him. But on the other hand, you’d have to be crazy not to take advantage of such a quality rider.

“Patrick will have no trouble making a comeback. He’s made a ton of comebacks. The real question is whether or not he’ll stick around this time.”

“I’m in no hurry to use him,” said trainer Richard Mandella. “Let’s wait and see.”

When Valenzuela was a no-show Oct. 14, he left Ron McAnally high and dry without a rider on Hawkster in the $500,000 Oak Tree Invitational. Hawkster won anyway, with Russell Baze aboard.

“If I could only be convinced he’s OK,” McAnally said. “He seems like the same old Patrick--outgoing, friendly and happy-go-lucky. I’m sure I’ll have some horses for him to ride before too long. But it’s hard not to wonder about him.”

Valenzuela should have little trouble getting back in the good graces of Charlie Whittingham, who trains Sunday Silence.

“Heck, he hurt himself more than he hurt me,” said Whittingham, who has won several major races with Valenzuela in the past. “If he’s got his act together, we’ll get back together.”

During his suspension, Valenzuela was not allowed to attend the races, nor exercise horses in the morning at Hollywood Park. However, he was granted access to Santa Anita’s stable area, and he made the most of the opportunity. Notorious for sleeping late, Valenzuela impressed trainers by showing up every day, working their lowliest maidens if necessary.

“He’s worked more horses in the last six weeks than he had in the last six years,” said trainer Eddie Gregson.

Valenzuela’s high profile during workouts not only helped smooth the way with leery trainers, it also kept him fit. Always in a battle with weight, Valenzuela appeared strong and trim as he talked about his return last weekend. He was asked why anyone should believe this comeback would be different from the others.

“Racing is my life,” Valenzuela said. “Without it I’d be lost. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t ride.”

Few jockeys have ridden better in the last 10 years. At the time of his suspension, Valenzuela had won nearly 2,000 races for purses totaling more than $53.3 million. Despite riding only 10 months in 1989, he probably will finish among the top 10 riders in earnings.

“The problem was, I took my success for granted,” he said. “And I didn’t think I deserved it. I had brothers riding, and I wondered, ‘Why didn’t it happen to them?’ My self-esteem was very low. I became my own worst enemy. I understand that now.”

Valenzuela has rejoined Alcoholics Anonymous and attends regular counseling sessions provided by the Winners Foundation, a nonprofit program funded by the racing industry.

“Most of the people in my AA group don’t know much about horse racing,” Valenzuela said. “But they’d read about my problems. When I first started going to meetings, a few of them said, ‘We were wondering when you’d show up here.’ ”

In order to satisfy the race track stewards, Valenzuela must submit to random drug testing. Normally, jockeys are subjected to drug tests only when the stewards can show just cause, an arrangement negotiated with the Jockeys Guild.

“I know it goes against the agreement with the Guild,” said steward Pete Pedersen. “But Valenzuela has consented to be monitored in this manner. And when it comes right down to it, there wasn’t much choice. He had lost any real bargaining power with us.”

The stewards also consult with Winners Foundation counselors, who are not yet ready to cut Valenzuela loose altogether.

“We’ve been told by them that Valenzuela’s case is still considered ‘open,’ ” Pedersen said.

Fernando Toro, one of the senior members of the Southland jockey colony, said of Valenzuela: “I’ll tell you, I’ve seen him at the gym, and he seems like the same old Pat to me. Laughing, joking around. I hope to God he has changed, but we’ll never know for sure until he gets back under the pressure of riding every day, reducing, and losing races.”

Nearly everyone is in agreement on one subject: Valenzuela’s new agent, Bob Meldahl, is the right man for the job.

“He’s obsessed,” Gregson said. “If anyone can keep Pat in line, this agent can.”

Meldahl gave up booking mounts for the talented Corey Black to go with Valenzuela shortly before the positive test was announced. Suddenly, the agent was out of a job. But Meldahl has no regrets.

“I’ve been waiting all my life to get a jockey like Pat,” Meldahl said. “Corey is a fine young rider. But Pat has the potential to be nothing less than the leading rider in the country. If you told me last October that I could get Pat Valenzuela’s book, but that I had to wait 60 days before we could do anything, I wouldn’t have hesitated. I’d do it all over again.”

Meldahl is an Arcadia High graduate who was drafted by the Philadelphia Phillies and spent a year with their Walla Walla, Wash., farm club. He has seen first hand the effects of drugs and alcohol on young athletes.

“He understands the disease of alcoholism and drug addiction,” Valenzuela said. “He understands the stress that comes with living in a fishbowl.”

Valenzuela said: “I truly feel I can be leading rider in the country within the next two years. But no matter what happens in the future, with horse racing or anything else, I don’t have to drink or use because of it.

“And I still feel Sunday Silence is my horse. I want a chance to ride him back, but that will come in the future only if Charlie wants me.”