Memories of Barbaro

The news about Barbaro today hit pretty hard. After all these months I really believed he was going to make it. I think everybody did, except the vets and experienced horsemen who know better.

After hearing the official word at work this afternoon, I came home and spent some time watching whatever Barbaro-related videos I could find on youtube. Once my wife-to-be came home, I told her the news and suggested we drink some bourbon and view some more Barbaro tributes. This wasn’t something Miranda would normally partake in, but I took her to Louisville for her first Kentucky Derby this year, so, thankfully, she sort of understood.

Youtube has about two dozen schmaltzy Barbaro tributes, some of which are very well done and can really get to you if you turn down the music and just focus on the unbelievable images.

(Quick survey of artists whose songs serve as soundtracks to Youtube Barbaro tributes: Michael Bolton, Katharine McPhee, someone called Whisper of the Garden, Enya, and, of course, about 20 appearances of Dan Fogelberg’s “Run for the Roses.” Surely that crap would make the reigning Derby champ rear up in his grave. My recommendation is to mute your computer and blast Johnny Cash’s “When the Man Comes Around.”)

But the best video I found was of the Derby, shot by a fan right across from the eighth pole at Churchill Downs. The audio is priceless, featuring a woman shouting for Barbaro, and, at the moment he comes rolling past, widening his lead with every stride, a male voice exclaims, “Holy s---!”

This was shot just a few rows in front of where I sat for the Derby, and when I showed it to Miranda she said it was definitely me, that she remembered me shouting that. I hadn’t even considered the possibility, but it’s exactly what I was thinking, and it sounds like something I would say. The voice could be mine, I don’t know. Regardless, it was amazing to see this, just like I remember it in my mind…

Barbaro winning the Kentucky Derby (:29)"

Two weeks later I watched the Preakness from the Lone Star Park press box. It was the saddest day I’ve ever experienced at a racetrack. The silence, the bad moods, the awkwardness of running live races shortly after. And I remember staying late into the night, even though there was nothing to do, just because none of us wanted to leave. Darren Rogers obsessively posted updates on the Lone Star Press Box blog, and we called New Bolton a few times even though they just kept telling us they were sorry, but they couldn’t release any info.

Another thought I couldn’t get out of my head tonight was my continued dismay over the voters who failed to award Barbaro an Eclipse Award as Champion 3-Year-Old.

I won’t argue that Bernardini wasn’t worthy. But Barbaro was more worthy. For winning the most important 3-year-old race of them all, and winning it in the kind of way that causes somebody to exclaim “Holy s---!” at the sight of him flying past the furlong marker. A “sublime” performance, as Tom Durkin so perfectly called it.

Sure, he never won again, and he never beat older horses, and blah blah blah. But he won the one that counts most. And it’s not like he was retired by overly cautious or greedy owners. He sat on the sidelines fighting valiantly for eight months, the most courageous and sustained battle for life of any racehorse in memory. With those accomplishments--on the track and at the hospital--if Barbaro isn’t deserving of an Eclipse Award, then who is?

But enough second-guessing. Let’s be thankful we had Barbaro while we did, like all the other great ones that left us way too early.