Seabiscuit Meets Syriana at the
SouthPaw
By Dave Zirin
May 3, 2009
The Nation
http://www.thenation.com/doc/20090518/zirin2?rel=rightsideaccordian
Some folks think the
sports world's signature events, where horses are
athletes to be appreciated for their power and beauty.
Others consider the so-called sport of kings
ostentatious nonsense, cruel to the animals and one
more occasion for the super-rich to throw their money
around. And then there are the little people--fewer and
fewer as time goes by--the racetrack touts, the little
old ladies and assorted winners and losers lined up at
the OTB, making $2 bets and hoping to catch a break.
Each of those constituencies found something to believe
in at the 2009
story of cinematic proportions: one part Syriana and
two parts Seabiscuit, as the unknown gelding Mine That
Bird came out of nowhere to win the Run for the Roses
by eight lengths, overcoming greater odds than any
horse in six decades. Competing against Hall-of-Fame
trainers, the Sultan of
catered to like
the tough and tiny horse that could.
Coming out of the gate, the diminutive gelding was
squeezed by two larger horses and was soon pushed so
far to the the rail that he could barely be seen by the
153,000 in attendance. But jockey Calvin Borel used
that inside track to his advantage, hugging the rail so
closely there were practically sparks between the horse
and the edge as he rode to victory on the soggy track.
Before the race, the only press Mine That Bird received
was for his journey to
horse from
didn't land on a flying saucer. He came 1,700 miles in
a trailer hitched to the back of trainer Bennie "Chip"
Woolley Jr.'s forty-year-old pickup truck. Woolley, a
former bareback jockey, had driven the horse to the
several weeks earlier in a motorcycle accident.
Wooley's crutches, black cowboy attire and
camera-unfriendly dark glasses stood in stark contrast
to the ostentatiously hatted
And to the media who didn't know what to make of him
before the race, the laconic Woolley broke out a smile
beneath his broad, black Stetson. "They'll know me now,
won't they?"
In an unscripted moment as he encountered Borel after
the race, Woolley literally cast his crutches away to
embrace the horse and jockey. "To be honest, I didn't
have any real feeling that I could win the
knew is that we'd be more competitive than anybody
thought we would." In a sport where trainers have egos
that would rival heavyweight-boxing champions, such an
admission is more than remarkable: it's cinematic.
Such was the emotion of the race, Borel broke down in
tears after crossing the finish line, recounting the
recent death of his mother. "You got a hole, you got a
shot," Borel said, of the way he skillfully guided Mine
That Bird through the gaps between horses. "I rode him
like a good horse."
All of this cinematic drama unspooled against a
backdrop of a recession that saw the lowest attendance
at Churchill
fast as mint juleps as health officials issued
assurances that swine flu would not impact the race.
Just as Seabiscuit thrilled Depression-era crowds in
the 1930s, recession-plagued
thoroughbred. But while the humble, injured trainer,
the volatile jockey and the little horse from nowhere
all may all seem to be from central casting, one of the
guys who owns Mine That Bird is more connected to
central booking.
Mine That Bird is the property of Mark Allen, who, with
a partner, bought the horse for $400,000. According to
the
proceeds from the sale of VECO, his father's Alaskan
oil business. His father, Bill Allen, was a central
player in the Sen. Ted Stevens corruption trial and
pleaded guilty in 2007 to bribing
Part of his plea agreement was immunity for his son.
Once Bill had Mark in the free and clear, he testified
that the Mind That Bird owner was his personal bagman,
paying off Alaskan legislators.
Part of Stevens's 2008 conviction--since voided because
of prosecutorial misconduct--was failure to disclose
gifts given to him by Bill Allen. (Stevens also once
co-owned a piece of another Mark Allen horse, So Long
Birdie.) Yikes. But as long as Mark Allen wasn't riding
Mine That Bird to the payoff spots, the memories of a
remarkable day will probably remain intact.
Dave Zirin is The Nation's sports editor. He is the author of Welcome to the Terrordome:
the Pain Politics and Promise of Sports (Haymarket) and A People's History of Sports in the
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