by Mark Patterson
Contrary to popular myth probably originated by somebody who watched “The Black Stallion” one too many times, mammals classified as equine are not “born to run.” At least not while toting whip-slashing humans- even small ones who routinely skip dinner so as to be less burdensome-over taxing surfaces at lung-busting distances of ground. That takes professional care and training. Even then, peak effort can be hard to summon on cue from a racing breed notorious for unpredictability. That volatility of performance compels some horseplayers to take out second mortgages and subsist on bologna sandwiches. And it made the bold proposal to gather perhaps 100 elite thoroughbreds, each (in theory) honed to a fine edge, with many imported from faraway lands, seem impossible to pull off. That was 41 renewals ago. It’s called the “Breeder’s Cup.”
Unlike, say, the NFL or NBA, sports leagues that innacurately confer the distinction of “World Champion” on titlists that never play any franchise based outside US borders (or occasionally Canada), thoroughbred racing really DOES go global at about this juncture every year before handing out year-end honors. Come next Friday, and again on Saturday, four-legged luminaries from all over the world will congregate stateside-this year at upscale Santa Anita in Arcadia CA-for a series of filthy rich races once thought logistically impossible to stage.
Up and running in 1984, the concept of a championship day addressing a full gamut of thoroughbred divisions and specialties sprang from John Gaines, a prominent owner/breeder whose audacious vision would reshape the industry. Gaines designed the future institution not as the possession of any venue, but instead as a moveable feast of world-class thoroughbred action to be shifted annually from track to track. The kill shot and clincher came with the magnanimous proclamation that none of the (magnificent) seven races would offer less than (cue Dr Evil) ONE MILLION DOLLARS. No matter that the purse on some contemporary races soars to eight-figures (The “Dubai World Cup,” no doubt inspired by Gaine’s thriving brainchild but funded by inexhaustible oil money, shells out some $12 million), back then, one single million established the “Sport of Kings,” American style, as a forward-thinking entity moving to shed pervasive stigmas that invoked rumpled, cigar-chomping touts and hooky-playing housewives betting bill money while screaming “Baby needs new shoes.”
No longer coasting on a Q-Rating derived solely from its Triple Crown, the trio of legendary races contested each spring and restricted to three-year-olds, the sport would then thrust itself center-stage at the tail-end of the calendar as well. As a glitzy, inclusive showcase for a wide diversity of thoroughbred skill-sets, the Breeder’s Cup would lure big-name horses, both male and female, from ancient bastions of the sport such as France, England, Germany, and nowadays, even Dubai and Japan, to run a variety of distances on both grass and traditional dirt.
Bettors have (sort of) embraced this more-is-more extravaganza, wagering up to $170 million-a record established in 2010 at historic Churchill Downs-on the two-day event. That the iconic spring classics handled twice that (on a mere three races) last year perhaps buttresses perception of Breeder’s Cup as elitist tribute to obscenely rich owners and breeders. (They don’t, after all, call it the “Bettor’s Cup.”)
But the industry itself HAS flexed and adapted to these destination races, reconfiguring its fall schedule of once stand alone features now relegated (often against their will) to “prep” status-much like the buildup to Santa Claus now engulfs Thanksgiving and even Halloween.
So, tune in Friday and Saturday for racing’s two-day Christmas, and watch “World” Championships that at least live up to the name.
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