Pincay Horsewhips a Certain Funny Man

Another true story of a competitor pushed too far.

Now I was just trying to be funny, you know, my way of congratulating Laffit Pincay for winning his 9,500th race in the fifth at Santa Anita on Wednesday aboard Saxony.

So after everyone had patted him on the back and wished him congratulations, I waited for him to put the whip down and told him if he lost his final races of the day, I’d trash him in the newspaper for going on a two-race losing streak.

“My horse doesn’t have much of chance in this next race,” he said, so I told him, “then get ready to be ripped, big guy.”

“I might have a shot in the last race,” he added, and I took notes, went to the betting window, loaded up on the favorites in the next race and threw out the pig that Pincay was riding.

Then I joined Bob Mieszerski, the Times’ racing handicapper in the press box, and noticed that Pincay’s pig was 30-1 on the tote board.

“Horse can’t run,” Misery said when I asked him about Pincay’s mount, and if you have tried winning money using Mieszerski’s picks in the newspaper, you know why I’ve nicknamed him Misery.

When the race started, Brocky’s Dream -- Pincay’s pig -- went off at odds of 35-1, the longest shot on the board in the nine-horse field. Misery looked across the track as the gate opened, and our expert horse analyst said, “Horse can’t run.” (That’s when I knew I was in trouble.)

Well, you know what happened. The horse that can’t run, of course, won the race at 35-1 odds, paid $73.40 for a $2 ticket to win, and all I got was a big grin from Pincay, which said, “Now rip me, big guy.”

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PINCAY MIGHT be the best athlete in Los Angeles area history. Think about that. That takes into account a lot of athletic studs, who have worn the local colors, but Pincay has not only won more in his sport than any other jockey, but he’s still at the top of his game at age 56.

This guy is so tough, and such a competitor, I’d like to see him go one-on-one with Devean George. OK, that wouldn’t be fair, so maybe somebody really good like Corey Maggette, and then let’s see what happens.

As it is, he’s competing with younger athletes every day, riding against some of the best jockeys in the world, and regularly beating them.

Now I work for a real old man, so obviously I’m aware of the time off one requires for a daily nap, the glucosomine for aching knees, the little moans and groans that come with standing up, but here’s Pincay jumping off a horse with the grace of a young gymnast. If the old man that I work for jumped off a horse, I’d be working for someone else for the next few months.

“Can’t say I ever get sore muscles,” Pincay said, and he had already ridden in three races by the time we chatted. “I feel great. I’m up at 4:45 every day, working out and then off to the track. Can’t wait to get here and ride.”

He’s not only one of the most popular figures with horsemen, but one of the most admired because everyone knows you get an honest ride from Pincay each time he rides. Put him on a pig, or ride him in a derby, and as he did Wednesday, he’s going to be yelling at the horse down the stretch, “Ha, ha, don’t slow down, girl.”

Six years ago there was a story in The Times suggesting Pincay was finished, making him the longest of long shots to pass Bill Shoemaker’s mark of most wins, but now he’s more than 1,000 victories ahead of Shoe.

His bronze bust already sits between Shoemaker and John Longden at Santa Anita, and as a rule, he said, “They do that for someone after they’re dead, so it’s nice to be able see it while still being alive.”

But what are they going to do when he reaches the 10,000 mark, something akin to what Cal Ripken accomplished? As he said Wednesday, “I’m going to get there. No question. I’m going to get there.”

He rode the pig home for victory No. 9,501, and then finished fifth on my betting choice and one of the favorites in the finale, and while I wanted to stay around and yell nasty things to him as he walked back to the jock’s room, I had a Clipper game to attend. I figured I better save my voice.

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NOW I wasn’t the one yelling at Michael Olowokandi. I believe that makes me the only one who wasn’t yelling at the big stiff when the Clippers took on the Bulls.

I found myself watching Olowokandi and the rest of the Clippers still thinking about the 56-year-old man I had just left, and while the geezer cost me plenty in that last race, imagine if the Clippers gave the same honest effort every night that Pincay has given the last 41 years.

In his own way, that is what a frustrated Coach Alvin Gentry -- still reeling from an embarrassing loss to Cleveland earlier this week -- was trying to say before the Bulls’ game: “Somewhere along the way, personal pride has to enter into this. You can’t be good until a team gets some consistency from everyone.”

At age 56, that’s what every owner, trainer and horse still gets from Pincay. I just wonder what he could do with a group of donkeys if given the chance.

P.S., the Donkeys beat the Bulls in a photo finish; I’m still waiting to see if there will be a stewards’ inquiry.

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TODAY’S LAST word comes in e-mail from Peter Everett:

“I know that as a journalist, you are sometimes given to hyperbole, but the Dodgers ‘a joke?’ Maybe a few years ago, but not after 92 wins without their best pitcher. Of course they have holes, but a joke? The fact is they have improved at first base, got some depth, and have a solid shot at the playoffs.”

Knock, knock. My mistake -- no one’s home.

T.J. Simers can be reached at t.j.simers@latimes.com.