The View From Here . . .
By Bob Morgan, Jr.

The passing of the ill-fated Barbaro, winner of the Kentucky Derby, again makes us think of the fragility of life as well as the way that creatures can touch our lives.

I have followed thoroughbred racing for years, occasionally visit Saratoga and Belmont (including organizing an annual Belmont Stakes excursion and party) but I certainly do not think of myself as a hardcore fan. Nevertheless, here is my Barbaro story, which is probably similar to that of many readers.

I went to a Kentucky Derby party last May with some friends and I had a wager of a few dollars on Barbaro in my pocket, based upon his gritty and tenacious victory in the Florida Derby a few weeks earlier. Barbaro, who remained undefeated, certainly came through with an enormous effort in the Derby that day, winning the Run for the Roses by over six lengths, striding away from the other horses in a massive outpouring of strength, grace and power. After the race, people at the party believed that maybe, finally, we would have another Triple Crown winner. The last such winner was Affirmed in 1978, a long, long time ago.

Two weeks later, young Robert and I watched on television the Preakness, the Baltimore race that is the second jewel of the Crown. I told the lad that I wanted two things to happen: Barbaro to win and all the horses to come back safely.

The reason for the first wish was pretty obvious (beyond the few dollars I had again wagered on Barbaro, this time at low odds) -- it is always very exciting to have a Triple Crown possibility and it makes the Belmont Stakes, the third jewel, much more significant. The second wish was made because I have seen some bad moments at the racetrack; for example, I happened to be present at Belmont both for Ruffian's tragic breakdown in her 1975 match race against Foolish Pleasure and for Go For Wand's fatal fall during the Breeders' Cup Distaff in 1990.

Of course, neither of my wishes was fulfilled. In a surreal sequence, Barbaro broke through the starting gate and was quickly gathered up and loaded back in the gate; the race then started but Barbaro was pulled up very early in obvious distress. Bernadini went on the win the Preakness, but his triumph was pretty much overshadowed by the sad drama surrounding Barbaro. Robert and I saw the stricken horse on the screen, his right leg shattered, surrounded by anxious track personnel and then loaded in the horse ambulance. I told the lad, truthfully, that I wasn't sure whether they could save him.

And then came a valiant, eight month effort to preserve the horse's life, not for racing and maybe not even for stud, but just to live out his normal equine life. It is fair to say that the expensive and heroic measures that were attempted on Barbaro likely would not have been used on a less renowned animal. But at a minimum, the veterinary efforts may prove useful in gaining knowledge about treating injured horses in the future. Eventually, of course, despite considerable initial hope, all of Barbaro's legs became compromised and he had to be put down.

Yes, Barbaro was just a horse. But he was also a symbol, and important one, of grace and beauty and athletic ability and determination. And for many who interacted with him last spring, however briefly and vicariously, his loss does touch us.