for those who care:
Eulogy for Barbaro
By Devon Ellington
It's never "just a horse" for a true racehorse fan. Ten thousand thoroughbred foals are born each year; only a fraction of them make it to the track. A fraction of that fraction runs for the Roses and even fewer have a shot at the Triple Crown. The occasional visitor to the track might not remember the name of a horse unless it was a big winner, but the regulars, the owners, trainers, and jockeys know the daily heartbreak that are part and parcel of The Sport of Kings.
It's more than speed and agility that captures a crowd. It's personality.
Barbaro had that special personality. He had a face one could not help but fall in love with on sight, an easy interaction with humans unusual for a horse so young, a keen sense of professionalism and competition, and a terrific sense of humor. He was too busy enjoying the entire experience to throw a diva fit in the paddock. He loved to work with his jockey and his trainer, and he loved to WIN.
He did that, beautifully, in the Kentucky Derby, and even the crusty old guys worn down by cynicism began to talk about the possibility of a Triple Crown.
Unfortunately, that promise was cut down when he broke his leg in the opening steps of the Preakness last May. And then he showed millions of people how "just a horse" could mean so much.
He succumbed to the ministrations of the vets with grace, gentleness, and humor. The fact that Edgar Prado (his jockey), his groom, trainer Michael Matz, and the humans he knew and trusted kept him calm in the early hours of the injury gave him a chance at survival. Another horse, more high-strung, more skittish, would have thrashed and fought, driven by pain and fear, and had to be euthanized in a matter of hours. Barbaro trusted those around him and worked with them, not against them.
He worked with them for eight months, through multiple surgeries and even that dreaded disease, laminitis. He interacted cheerfully with his humans. He learned to use his sling like a baby's Jolly Jumper, telling his caretakers when he had enough and wanted to lie down and sleep. He inspired adults and children alike, and even flirted with some of the female horses also in intensive care.
He was fortunate in his owners, Gretchen and Roy Jackson. They loved the horse - not simply for his earning potential, but because they recognized his unique spirit and winning personality. They had the belief, the willingness, and (not to be underestimated) the financial resources to give him the best care possible. They wanted to spend the money to save his life, if at all possible, even if he could never race again, or never even stand stud. They did it because they loved him.
His accident showed the world the dark side of racing. Every time a jockey gets on a horse, it is with the knowledge that one or both of them could return permanently disabled - if they return at all. Ten times a day, five days a week, those involved with the sport and their families live with that reality. It's a part of racing that the marketing people would rather stay hidden, because the heartbreak turns people away from the sport. After all, people don't want to face anything that makes them uncomfortable when they're "out for a good time". And, with the race industry desperate to lure new fans, the harsh realities are something they'd rather keep hidden - which ends up causing more problems in the long run.
The aftermath of the accident also showed the world the best of racing: That owners exist who genuinely love their animals and don't see them as a simple status symbol; that trainers and jockeys get attached to the horses, and don't see them as a mere meal ticket; that a veterinary staff is willing to try new techniques to save a horse's life; that a horse can turn to the camera with a wink and a whinny and capture a nation's heart.
Barbaro was unique, and will be missed for many reasons, but the most important go far beyond what "could have been".
Hialeah alumni Sharlene Thomas says, "Barbaro awoke in me the same feelings I had thought were reserved for my first love, Secretariat. With full hearts and a joy of running exhibited from the get-go, these magnificent animals immediately captured the love and admiration of anyone lucky enough to see them in action. I could barely see through my tears, watching Barbaro's last race and prayed along with the rest of the country that he would make it. That he lost the battle, is so sad, for all of us."
Artist and photographer Barbara Rosenthal, a long-time racing fan, adds, "People connect to horses as live souls. It connects the animal world to the human world. It's not a card game or a slot machine. We'll miss his soul in the world. I'll miss him. I'll miss seeing him, reading about him. He was such a beautiful animal."
He was, and he made an impact on the world that will not be soon forgotten. At the time of writing, the Jacksons were still considering where to inter Barbaro's ashes. On the one hand, they'd like him at their farm, his home; on the other hand, they understand that many want to pay their respects, and perhaps a more public location would be a better choice. Churchill Downs, the site of his Kentucky Derby victory, has offered a site, as have other facilities around the country.
The Jacksons continue in racing, with a yearling full brother to Barbaro already learning the ropes, and another full brother about to foal. The Jacksons will also be honored this August in Saratoga Springs by the Belmont Child Care Association at their annual gala.
Barbaro is gone, but his influence on the sport and in advances in equine medicine, will be felt far into the future. In spite of the sadness, he's leaving a legacy of hope to the future.
http://www.femmefan.com/site/featuredarticles/2007/Feb07/EulogyforBarbaro_article0201.htm
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