Jul 7, 2010
Jun 15, 2010
Mervyn LeRoy
While Kentucky Derby fever swept the land in recent weeks there were stakes contests honoring the memory of two of the most disparate characters that you could imagine.
Mervyn LeRoy liked to spend his time as the head man at Hollywood Park when he wasn't making films like the immortal "Wizard of Oz".
Allen Lacombe ruled the Fair Grounds press box where, on any given day, he might be promoting a boxing match and presiding over a crawfish race down at the finish line.
I had the opportunity to interview LeRoy in 1969 during the Thoroughbred Racing Association convention in New Orleans. E.P. Taylor and Wilie Shoemaker had already kindly consented to suffer a cub turf writer. LeRoy proved just as gracious.
After a brief chat he asked if I had any tips for him to bet. My selection was a horse named Easy Lime, ridden by a jockey named Esteban Medina who was new in town, having migrated from Agua Caliente race track in Tijuana.
"Medina!" LeRoy fairly shouted. "He's my favorite jockey whenever I go to Caliente".
So we bet and Easy Lime wins. I'd never met a Hollywood mogul before and it was something to see his excitement stoked so much by a $9.00 winner. While taking his leave he issued an invitation to drop in any time I might be near Hollywood Park.
Allen Lacombe conferred the moniker ("Black Cat") on himself as the result of a losing streak that began when he dropped out of school. He had to hustle to make ends meet in the rough-and-tumble neighborhood known as the Irish Channel, hard by the Mississippi River docks.
Allen never met a favorite he couldn't bet and the shorter the price the better. The inevitable punishment this policy dished out left him undaunted. In fact, the only times I saw him really upset was when he cashed a bet, a situation rectified as soon as the next chalk struggled home.
I decided to leave it to Freud or Jung to figure what that was all about.
Unlike Hollywood swells, the Cat hung out with people named Hard Times, Pickle Nose Willy,Chew Tobacco Sam, Eatin' Pete...you get the picture.
Hard Times was a Nom de Tout whose real name was Earl Vince. He was a survivor as a jockey on the West Virginia leaky roof circuits. The Cat kept him around because he might hit one occasionally. When Hard Times ran cold the Cat would retract his press box sandwich credential.
The Cat had other friends on the dole and he looked the other way as the press box began to resemble "The Grapes of Wrath". Hard Times had a daughter who owned a beauty shop near the track and she would give him a double sawbuck every Saturday with which to try his luck.
LeRoy was as good as his word when I showed up for my first look at Hollywood Park a decade later. He set me up with a champagne lunch. I began to wonder if it was a case of mistaken identity. By then I had graduated to Daily Racing Form columnist and, in those days, The Form carried a lot of weight as America's only national daily devoted to picking winners. A decade or so later I was hired to serve as host on Hollypark's nightly recap. Another movie guy, Howard Koch, also helped my career on its way.
The Cat's tragicomedy might have come from the pen of Tennessee Williams (who resided a mile or so from Fair Grounds in the French Quarter) but I witnessed his antics both puzzled and amused.
I often tagged alone with The Cat because you never what might happen next. One night we took a launch out to an ocean-going vessel in the Mississippi where we dined with the Argentine ambassador. Another jaunt came l25 miles downriver to board the USS Tirinte, a WW II era submarine. We dove twice during the lengthy sailing...Ah ooga, Ah ooga came the siren which gave you 60 seconds or so to "clear the bridge" or you were going to get wet. Years later I saw the Tirante on a popular TV show of the time, The Silent Service. The Tirante crew was heavily decorated for having penetrated Tokyo Harbor during the war..
About 40 years ago I rode a camel in a race at halftime of the NFL Saints. Beat national jockey champion Larry Snyder.
Mervyn LeRoy richly deserved to have a graded race in his honor.
Allan (The Black Cat) Lacombe and his crew may have had more run.
Mervyn LeRoy liked to spend his time as the head man at Hollywood Park when he wasn't making films like the immortal "Wizard of Oz".
Allen Lacombe ruled the Fair Grounds press box where, on any given day, he might be promoting a boxing match and presiding over a crawfish race down at the finish line.
I had the opportunity to interview LeRoy in 1969 during the Thoroughbred Racing Association convention in New Orleans. E.P. Taylor and Wilie Shoemaker had already kindly consented to suffer a cub turf writer. LeRoy proved just as gracious.
After a brief chat he asked if I had any tips for him to bet. My selection was a horse named Easy Lime, ridden by a jockey named Esteban Medina who was new in town, having migrated from Agua Caliente race track in Tijuana.
"Medina!" LeRoy fairly shouted. "He's my favorite jockey whenever I go to Caliente".
So we bet and Easy Lime wins. I'd never met a Hollywood mogul before and it was something to see his excitement stoked so much by a $9.00 winner. While taking his leave he issued an invitation to drop in any time I might be near Hollywood Park.
Allen Lacombe conferred the moniker ("Black Cat") on himself as the result of a losing streak that began when he dropped out of school. He had to hustle to make ends meet in the rough-and-tumble neighborhood known as the Irish Channel, hard by the Mississippi River docks.
Allen never met a favorite he couldn't bet and the shorter the price the better. The inevitable punishment this policy dished out left him undaunted. In fact, the only times I saw him really upset was when he cashed a bet, a situation rectified as soon as the next chalk struggled home.
I decided to leave it to Freud or Jung to figure what that was all about.
Unlike Hollywood swells, the Cat hung out with people named Hard Times, Pickle Nose Willy,Chew Tobacco Sam, Eatin' Pete...you get the picture.
Hard Times was a Nom de Tout whose real name was Earl Vince. He was a survivor as a jockey on the West Virginia leaky roof circuits. The Cat kept him around because he might hit one occasionally. When Hard Times ran cold the Cat would retract his press box sandwich credential.
The Cat had other friends on the dole and he looked the other way as the press box began to resemble "The Grapes of Wrath". Hard Times had a daughter who owned a beauty shop near the track and she would give him a double sawbuck every Saturday with which to try his luck.
LeRoy was as good as his word when I showed up for my first look at Hollywood Park a decade later. He set me up with a champagne lunch. I began to wonder if it was a case of mistaken identity. By then I had graduated to Daily Racing Form columnist and, in those days, The Form carried a lot of weight as America's only national daily devoted to picking winners. A decade or so later I was hired to serve as host on Hollypark's nightly recap. Another movie guy, Howard Koch, also helped my career on its way.
The Cat's tragicomedy might have come from the pen of Tennessee Williams (who resided a mile or so from Fair Grounds in the French Quarter) but I witnessed his antics both puzzled and amused.
I often tagged alone with The Cat because you never what might happen next. One night we took a launch out to an ocean-going vessel in the Mississippi where we dined with the Argentine ambassador. Another jaunt came l25 miles downriver to board the USS Tirinte, a WW II era submarine. We dove twice during the lengthy sailing...Ah ooga, Ah ooga came the siren which gave you 60 seconds or so to "clear the bridge" or you were going to get wet. Years later I saw the Tirante on a popular TV show of the time, The Silent Service. The Tirante crew was heavily decorated for having penetrated Tokyo Harbor during the war..
About 40 years ago I rode a camel in a race at halftime of the NFL Saints. Beat national jockey champion Larry Snyder.
Mervyn LeRoy richly deserved to have a graded race in his honor.
Allan (The Black Cat) Lacombe and his crew may have had more run.
May 19, 2010
HURRICANE IKE BRINGS GRAEME HALL REDEMPTION AT CHURCHILL
The late, great Daily Racing Form columnist Charles Hatton was fond of saying that "the place you lost it is the place you get it back." Hurricane Ike brought some Churchill Downs redemption to Graeme Hall by winning the Derby Trial in authoritative fashion. Trainer John Sadler had him poised for a run in the Preakness before he was sent to the sidelines for repairs.
IN THE BEGINNING
In the beginning there was Graeme Hall. The chestnut son of Dehere was the first three-year-old sent out by trainer Todd Pletcher in quest of Kentucky Derby glory. Twenty-seven more attempts would be made before Todd and his WinStar cohorts would sniff the roses.
Graeme Hall loved a wet track and he got one in no undertain terms while winning the Arkansas Derby at Oaklawn Park. Thunder and lightning wracked Hot Springs for hours right up to post-time.
I assumed that we would end up waiting out the storm but owner Eugene Melnyk was in a hurry to return to his home in Barbados. His pilot tried to assure us that it would not be unsafe and we would fly above the storm in a matter of minutes. Todd and I and my friend Diane were to be dropped off in Louisville.
Bad call. The thunder and lightning showed no sign of abating and the private jet bounced through a phenomenon known as St. Elmo's Fire. It felt like we were seated inside a giant firecracker. Prayers to St. Elmo went unanswered as we careened through the sky like an airborne ship of fools.
It turned out that the pilot was right. What seemed an eternity was l0 minutes or so and Eugene was rightfully excited about the great victory.
"On to the Derby," he announced with a great grin of anticipation.
It would have been a good time for me to keep my mouth shut but I guess that is just not my
nature.
I suggested that there might be alternatives to racing Graeme Hall in the Kentucky Derby against the likes of favorite Fusiachi Pegasus and More Than Ready, also trained by Pletcher.
Graeme Hall was a light-bodied sort who gave his all when racing and needed plenty of recovery time after a race. He figured to be a big price in the Derby and a hard race might send him to the sidelines and miss the rich summer races.
My advice found a frosty reception. Todd even questioned my reasoning.
"How can you tell a man who won a major prep that his horse doesn't belong in the Kentucky Derby?, he said.
So, off we go to Churchill Downs and Graeme Hall lays an egg, dead last at 46-to-1.
My cell phone rings. It's Eugene and he wants a cover story right away. I call Todd at his barn where he tends to fourth place finisher More Than Ready.
"Your turn," I say to Todd. Next day it's reported that Graeme Hall has "flipped his palate" and that explains his poor effort. Did he really? I didn't ask.
A happy post script to the Derby was the great job Todd performed in getting Graeme Hall to win the Jim Dandy three months later. He had some ankle troubles that kept him out of the Travers.
At four, Todd sent him out to win a Grade 2 stakes and added a Grade 1 second in the Cigar Mile to Pletcher's brilliant but ill-fated Left Bank.
Graeme Hall is now the leading sire in Florida. Imagine what career he may have had if only
he had skipped the Derby.
Graeme Hall loved a wet track and he got one in no undertain terms while winning the Arkansas Derby at Oaklawn Park. Thunder and lightning wracked Hot Springs for hours right up to post-time.
I assumed that we would end up waiting out the storm but owner Eugene Melnyk was in a hurry to return to his home in Barbados. His pilot tried to assure us that it would not be unsafe and we would fly above the storm in a matter of minutes. Todd and I and my friend Diane were to be dropped off in Louisville.
Bad call. The thunder and lightning showed no sign of abating and the private jet bounced through a phenomenon known as St. Elmo's Fire. It felt like we were seated inside a giant firecracker. Prayers to St. Elmo went unanswered as we careened through the sky like an airborne ship of fools.
It turned out that the pilot was right. What seemed an eternity was l0 minutes or so and Eugene was rightfully excited about the great victory.
"On to the Derby," he announced with a great grin of anticipation.
It would have been a good time for me to keep my mouth shut but I guess that is just not my
nature.
I suggested that there might be alternatives to racing Graeme Hall in the Kentucky Derby against the likes of favorite Fusiachi Pegasus and More Than Ready, also trained by Pletcher.
Graeme Hall was a light-bodied sort who gave his all when racing and needed plenty of recovery time after a race. He figured to be a big price in the Derby and a hard race might send him to the sidelines and miss the rich summer races.
My advice found a frosty reception. Todd even questioned my reasoning.
"How can you tell a man who won a major prep that his horse doesn't belong in the Kentucky Derby?, he said.
So, off we go to Churchill Downs and Graeme Hall lays an egg, dead last at 46-to-1.
My cell phone rings. It's Eugene and he wants a cover story right away. I call Todd at his barn where he tends to fourth place finisher More Than Ready.
"Your turn," I say to Todd. Next day it's reported that Graeme Hall has "flipped his palate" and that explains his poor effort. Did he really? I didn't ask.
A happy post script to the Derby was the great job Todd performed in getting Graeme Hall to win the Jim Dandy three months later. He had some ankle troubles that kept him out of the Travers.
At four, Todd sent him out to win a Grade 2 stakes and added a Grade 1 second in the Cigar Mile to Pletcher's brilliant but ill-fated Left Bank.
Graeme Hall is now the leading sire in Florida. Imagine what career he may have had if only
he had skipped the Derby.
May 17, 2010
AFTER A FASHION
Warm spring weather arrived in Central Kentucky the other day. Exercise riders began to doff excess garb, thus revealing previously hidden "epidermal art". It makes one wonder if the only ones making money at the track these days are those who wield the tattoo tools. The recipients of these inky fashion statements, or should we describe them as victims, are not moving up in class a whole lot. The French have a derogatory word for this attitude, "deshabille'.
May 13, 2010
STAR SHOOT STAKES
It's been said before that the best deals are often ones that you don't make. Case in point with the recent Star Shoot Stakes at Woodbine, won by Brereton Jones homebred Biofuel. Jones tried to sell the Stormin Fever at auction but found no takers and brought her home. A fellow came along later and said that he was prepared to pay the $20,000 reserve price set by Jones. He had only to confirm the deal with a partner.
A day or so later the man admitted that he could not close on the transaction due to his partner's backing away. Jones took the filly back home and put her in training last year as a 2-year-old.
You guessed it, she went on to be named champion juvenile in Canada and her brilliant win in her 2010 debut bodes well for further glories.
Second in the Star Shoot was a Cactus Ridge filly which I purchased for Canadian owner Dan Robb, a former golf pro turned Vancouver businessman. After an l8 month search I found a filly for him that would fill the best. I heard about her from the consummate horseman and trader Roy Coffee of Lexington, KY. Roy is known for his keen eye to find prospects for improvement at all levels. His motto for his Blind Faith Farm is "Horses bought and sold daily".
In this instance I need a two-hour ride to Lebanon, KY to inspect a lovely black filly who worked a quarter mile over a three furlong training track. Roy had bought the filly for $1,200 at a Fasig-Tipton sale and I forked over $25,000 of Mr. Robb's money, content that I had found the one I could recommend without reservation.
She's earned some $100,000 and has a bright future.
A good horse, like gold, is where you find it. I have beaten the bushes and worked the backwaters of the Thoroughbred world for some four decades now. That's what makes this fun.
A day or so later the man admitted that he could not close on the transaction due to his partner's backing away. Jones took the filly back home and put her in training last year as a 2-year-old.
You guessed it, she went on to be named champion juvenile in Canada and her brilliant win in her 2010 debut bodes well for further glories.
Second in the Star Shoot was a Cactus Ridge filly which I purchased for Canadian owner Dan Robb, a former golf pro turned Vancouver businessman. After an l8 month search I found a filly for him that would fill the best. I heard about her from the consummate horseman and trader Roy Coffee of Lexington, KY. Roy is known for his keen eye to find prospects for improvement at all levels. His motto for his Blind Faith Farm is "Horses bought and sold daily".
In this instance I need a two-hour ride to Lebanon, KY to inspect a lovely black filly who worked a quarter mile over a three furlong training track. Roy had bought the filly for $1,200 at a Fasig-Tipton sale and I forked over $25,000 of Mr. Robb's money, content that I had found the one I could recommend without reservation.
She's earned some $100,000 and has a bright future.
A good horse, like gold, is where you find it. I have beaten the bushes and worked the backwaters of the Thoroughbred world for some four decades now. That's what makes this fun.
May 10, 2010
DERBY DRESSCODE
When noted thoroughbred artist Pamela Parker called Churchill Downs to inquire about a dress code on Kentucky Derby she was told:
“Wear a wetsuit!”
Mar 31, 2010
Nary a horse ran a furlong in :09.4 in the March Ocala Breeders Sales of two -year-olds in training this spring. That compares to 10 such burning up the track moves at this same sale a year ago. Common sense moderation seemed to rule the day.
There is something about California speed that takes over when consignors cross the Rockies. Four horses raced in :9.4 at Barretts and another matched that during the Fasig-Tipton Texas sale. It looks a bit loony to scorch the earth that way, especially in view of the dismal performance record of previous hot-doggers.
Gone Fishin’ proved a useful horse after putting up that time on the Keeneland turf.
But between that Dogwood Stable horse and the outlandish Green Monkey there were any number of speedballs whose best day was the date they were sold.
Maybe I’m biased because we topped the inaugural Barretts sale in 1989 with a Roberto colt who had the stands buzzing when he worked an eighth in, get this, :11.
When I am buying at juvenile sales I give such horses a wide berth while in search for prospects that do not need re-education camp after such an injudicious breeze.
SMOKE GETS IN YOUR EYES
Just getting back home from the sales was a bit tense a few weeks back. The Atlanta-Lexington puddle jumper was full up as usual when two burly inebriates plopped down in front of my season. Soon after takeoff one decided to light up a Marlboro and puffed away.
The flight attendant (Delta) handled the situation professionally, having taken the offending butt and quietly letting the pilots know what was going on. I kept a watchful eye on smoker No. One (the other guy passed out) in case there was trouble.
Law enforcement officers met the plane and removed the nicotine fiend without incident.Police interviewed me but never did follow up on the incident to news media.
The whole episode got me thinking...the Transportation Safety Authority will confiscate 3 ounces of water but allows passengers who have flammable lighter fluid in their possession. What sense does that make?
Former Kentucky first lady (and Miss America) Phyllis George was also a passenger on that flight. If there’s ever a senior tour for onetime Miss Americas she could still compete.
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