Minus star, fans will tune out Belmont

Time for horse racing's biggest afterthought.

A dozen horses will take their respective places in the starting gate today and a nation will flip the channel. That's because the biggest, the best and the brightest will be nowhere near the Belmont Stakes.

One hundred and fifty miles to the south, Barbaro will receive his weekly bath and then he'll return to his 11-by-13-foot pen, the small space where he spends 99 percent of his time. Later today, hospital staff will set up a television just outside his stall and they'll turn the channel to the big race.

"It's possible he won't even turn around to watch it," says Corrine Sweeney, hospital director at New Bolton Center. "Maybe he'd rather just eat hay."

Which would mean Barbaro's feelings about the Belmont Stakes match those of the rest of the country.

The only name in horse racing that means anything is Barbaro's, which makes today's race - the third leg of the Triple Crown - even worse than bittersweet; it makes it meaningless.

Barbaro may or may not watch, but his trainer Michael Matz says he'll definitely tune in his television. Matz was the luckiest man in horse racing until the gates opened at the Preakness Stakes three weeks ago. He had the sport's winning lottery ticket, the sure thing champion that was expected to end horse racing's 28-year drought since the last Triple Crown winner. Now Matz serves as a reminder that horse racing breeds far more losers than winners.

"Of course we'd like to be at Belmont, but that's not how things worked out," Matz said yesterday from Fair Hill Training Center. "It's sad to have a great horse like that and to have this happen; of course it's disappointing. But there's nothing we can do to change what happened."

Matz's routine has changed these past few weeks. He still wakes up early and works with his horses at Fair Hill. He then drives more than an hour to Kennett Square, Pa., to visit Barbaro, the Kentucky Derby winner destined to go down in history as one of the sport's biggest what-ifs.

Some days he grooms Barbaro or changes the horse's bandages. Usually he has some mints or carrots for Barbaro. And there are some days when he just stops by to say hello.

"He's doing so well," said Matz, who plans to work with his horses this morning, visit Barbaro this afternoon and watch today's Belmont at home later. "I'm an optimist, so until something goes wrong, there's no sense being negative about it."

It's not easy, but Matz has watched video of the Preakness race. No matter how slow he plays the footage or how many times he hits the pause button, Matz can't tell what exactly went wrong. Within the first 100 yards, the horse's gait changed and it quickly became apparent that something was wrong. Doctors put 27 screws into his right hind leg, and still now, they don't feel comfortable saying that Barbaro will survive.

The horse is still in the Intensive Care Unit at the New Bolton Center, standing and walking and eating.

"He couldn't be doing any better than he is right now," says Sweeney, the hospital director.

Well, he could, actually. Today should be a race for the ages, a 1 1/2 -mile race that turns a 3-year-old colt into a legend.

Instead, we're talking about an afterthought. The main character in the year's most intense sporting drama is nowhere near the main stage. The field doesn't include the Kentucky Derby winner or the Preakness winner. A track that can accommodate more than 100,000 spectators will see only half in attendance, and television ratings would be better if ABC opted to air a Mr. Ed marathon.

You can bet that ABC is aware of the fickle interest, which is why the network will focus much of its coverage on the horse that isn't running. They'll have cameras and a crew at New Bolton Center, delivering live feeds of an injured thoroughbred chewing hay. Without Barbaro, we're talking about Much Flee TV.

Today isn't about the winner of the Belmont, and it isn't really about the losers. Instead, the race is just a reminder of what could have been. In another space and time, Barbaro never stopped running in Baltimore. He ran through those first few furlongs, around the final turns and right through the finish line. The horse kept running, right up Interstate 95, making a few turns when he hit Long Island and settled himself into a starting gate one last time.

"And they're off!" the track announcer would yell, and from Belmont to Santa Anita, the whole nation would tune in to watch history.

And in this alternative universe, for 2 1/2 minutes, there'd be just one quiet place in the entire country, the last place a great horse has any business hanging out during a Triple Crown race: that stall at New Bolton.

Space, time and bones that are far too fragile don't care about history books. And instead of watching a great champion, today we can only daydream about one.

Related topic galleries: Kentucky Derby, Belmont Stakes, Equestrian, History, Hospitals and Clinics, Long Island, Triple Crown

• ENGINEERING

• AESTHICIAN ASSISTANT

• DENTAL ASSISTANT

• ENGINEERING

• AUTOMOTIVE

• View all Top Jobs