Desormeaux's Horse Sense Shines Through

ELMONT, N.Y.

The right thing happened: Big Brown didn't want to run, and his jockey didn't ask him to. The last thing thoroughbred racing needed was another beautiful horse in distress, a spectacle that Kent Desormeaux spared us all when he handled his mount so responsibly, even though it meant finishing dead last in the Belmont Stakes on Saturday and failing to win the Triple Crown.

The mystery of why Big Brown, the winner of the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness and the forbidding favorite to complete the first Triple Crown in 30 years, performed so poorly will be answered in time, by the veterinarians who swarmed around him at the finish line and then followed him to his barn. But whatever the sport lost in terms of history and publicity when Big Brown failed in his bid, it recouped thanks to Desormeaux, who proved that there are good people in the sport who put the horses first, something critics had reason to question this season.

"This is the best horse I ever been on," Desormeaux said. "Something was wrong, I took care of him."

Thoroughbred racing had been fairly besieged by controversy in the last few weeks, ever since the catastrophic breakdown of the filly Eight Belles, who collapsed on two broken ankles just after finishing a valiant second to Big Brown in the Derby. Her death, combined with the undeniable seediness of Big Brown's connections, who hardly are poster boys for the integrity of the sport, provoked debates about everything from the breeding of unsound horses, to whether the use of steroids should be banned, to whether racing needs more regulation. But Desormeaux made his own contribution to the debate with his conduct, which suggested that you can't regulate conscience in the people who handle horses, you can only hope that they have it, and use it.

Maybe it was the oppressive heat, which made the track seem like ash and caused a haze to hang in the air like smoke over the sprays of oak trees and neatly trimmed hedges in the paddock. Maybe it was the small, seemingly minor crack in Big Brown's hoof, for which he had been treated earlier in the week. Maybe it was some other undiagnosed ailment or injury that caused Big Brown to be so unresponsive. Desormeaux didn't care what it was. He just knew something wasn't right. A hundred yards before the last turn, "I was done, I had no horse," Desormeaux said. So he eased the horse up and away from the rail, refusing to pursue Nick Zito's long-shot Da' Tara.

It wasn't that Big Brown necessarily was injured -- there was no outward sign of lameness. It was just something that Desormeaux sensed. "There is something amiss," Desormeaux said. "He's probably just tired. I thought in this horse's best interest, let's just get him back to the barn and recharge his batteries."

It was no great tragedy that Big Brown's owner and trainer were disappointed in their quest to make Big Brown the first Triple Crown winner since Affirmed in 1978. Everyone is entitled to a shot at redemption, but the fact is, the people attached to the horse were irretrievably crummy. They've had plenty of chances at redemption and come up shysters every time, and were a constant reminder over the past few weeks that thoroughbred racing is sometimes less the sport of kings than a shabby, shady exercise in using animals as a get-rich-quick scheme.

The owner of Big Brown is International Equine Acquisitions Holdings Inc., a portentously named facade for a consortium of guys who like to play big shot by buying pieces of thoroughbreds as if they are investing in hedge funds. The front man for the "company" is co-president Michael Iavarone, who in 1999 was fined and suspended by the National Association of Securities Dealers for making unauthorized trades. In 2003, Iavarone welshed on payments for horses he bought at auction. And in 2005, the trainer he employed, Greg Martin, had his license yanked for illegally doping a horse.

IEAH next turned its horses over to Richard Dutrow Jr., a graceless loudmouth and chronic doper. Dutrow has been fined or suspended for doping offenses in each of the last eight years, including two more offenses in January. In a sport with liberal doping policies -- steroids and painkillers can be legally administered -- Dutrow still manages to cross the line egregiously. He treated Big Brown with the steroid Winstrol on a monthly basis until May, when he decided the horse no longer needed it. It was hard to root for such a braying egotist, who announced his horse was a lock to win the Crown. "Stay out of his way," he said. "I just don't see no dogfight in this race."

But it was easy to root for jockey Desormeaux, who was out to redeem the most painful loss of his career. In 1998, Desormeaux and Real Quiet came into the Belmont pursuing a Triple Crown and took a four-length lead with a burst of speed, only to be caught at the wire by Victory Gallop and lose in an agonizingly close photo finish. The loss has eaten at him for years.

But on Saturday, Desormeaux had no doubts or second thoughts. He came into the press room, his thatch of thick dark hair still damp and combed to the side, and answered every question as cheerfully as a victor. "This will never eat me up," he said. "I'm quite proud."

Desormeaux was as mystified as anyone as to what happened to his powerhouse of a horse. All spring, Big Brown was so strong he seemed to flex in his stall and in the paddock, muscles rippling like a bodybuilder. Afterward, Dutrow also was baffled. "The horse kind of looks like he is fine to me," he said. Nor could the on-call veterinarian, Larry Bramlage, detect any outward signs of trouble. But Bramlage also suggested that sometimes horses regulate themselves; they are intelligent enough to know when they shouldn't run. "He's a smart horse," Bramlage said. "Might have decided it wasn't his day, and he wasn't going to try."

To Desormeaux, it was just another lesson in just how elusive the Triple Crown is. "This obviously would have been a life-changing experience," he said. But if there was no great triumph, there was no great catastrophe, either, and that was a victory in itself. "You know, life throws curves," Desormeaux said. "Some of us hit it, some of us sulk around."