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Latter-day Seabiscuit? Trainers are real link between Funny Cide, 'people's champ'Posted: Wednesday June 04, 2003 6:01 PM
Many in the racing community have tried to compare Seabiscuit and Funny Cide. The movie Seabiscuit, based on Laura Hillenbrand's bestselling book about the people's champion horse of the 1930s, is hitting theaters this summer. Funny Cide, the people's champion horse that will run the Belmont Stakes Saturday, is attempting to become the first horse in 25 years to win the Triple Crown. In the broadest of terms, the comparison is fine. Racing was a big game when Seabiscuit ran and people got excited about him. Racing is no longer a big spectator sport in the United States; but in the very same summer that Seabiscuit is released, another horse has come along and captured the public's imagination. (To what extent Funny Cide has truly crossed over into the mainstream of sports is difficult to gauge. But with his 10 owners, including five high school buddies from Sackets Harbor, N.Y.; his low purchase price of $75,000; and the fact that he is a gelding, there is little doubt he is an appealing protagonist). Beyond that, the parallels become sketchy. Red Pollard, who rode Seabiscuit, was a journeyman who did the work of his life on the 'Biscuit. Funny Cide's jockey, Jose Santos, is one of the best in the world, although he had endured a lengthy slump that ended just as he was getting the mount on Funny Cide. These two characters have little in common. Seabiscuit's owner, Charles Howard, was wealthy. Funny Cide's owners are not rich -- or weren't before their horse won the first two legs of the Triple Crown -- although several of them are successful (more so than portrayed in many descriptions). Overall, not much in common here, either. Then there are the trainers. Tom Smith trained Seabiscuit. Hillenbrand paints him as secretive, monosyllabic and uncooperative. He often misled reporters about workout schedules, and when photographers asked to take shots of Seabiscuit he would bring out another horse. Barclay Tagg, 65, trains Funny Cide. In many ways, he has been painted as being every bit as antisocial as Smith. Prior to the Preakness, Tagg told Maryland racing officials and the media that he was planning to ship Funny Cide to Pimlico Race Course on the morning of the race. This disappointed Preakness officials, because it prevented them from showcasing the Kentucky Derby winner all week long in Stall 1 of the stakes barn. Then Tagg brought Funny Cide to Maryland on the afternoon before the race, telling no one. The horse was stabled in the backstretch ghetto at Pimlico and Tagg chased away photographers who ventured into his shedrow to see the gelding. This week, Tagg told reporters that he was planning to work Funny Cide at 8:45 Tuesday morning. There would be a crowd of hundreds to watch. Instead, he worked him at 5:30, when the track was nearly deserted. Tagg said he did this because the track was in splendid condition, but admitted that it's better to train in front of “three or four people, instead of 100.” He offered no apologies. He refuses to parade Funny Cide for pictures, explaining that it would upset the horse's schedule, and the barn's. All of this fits the reputation Tagg was tagged with long before he began to work with Funny Cide. When Santos' agent told Santos last August that he would be working a horse for Tagg, Santos responded, “Why do I have to work a horse for that grouchy guy?” Here's what I think of Tagg: He's been put in an incredibly difficult spot, jumping from obscurity to celebrity in five weeks. And he has not allowed his character to change in the least, which takes incredible strength. He doesn't care about getting famous, he cares about winning the Belmont and doing what's right for Funny Cide. Tagg should be admired for this. When Bob Baffert started winning Derbies and Preaknesses and gaining fame, he suddenly was depicted as glib and accessible. Well, the truth is Baffert was glib and funny 20 years ago when he was working quarter horses in Arizona; he was just being himself. Here's another thing: Tagg is a good guy. I've had several chances in the last month to be around him in quieter settings and found him to be funny and personable. A few hours before the Preakness, I went back to his barn with another writer, and Tagg didn't jump ugly on us; he just asked us to stay out of the shed row so the horse would see only familiar faces. That seemed fair. Funny Cide might not win the Belmont on Saturday. But if he doesn't, it won't be because his trainer was caught up in the moment and didn't give him the best possible chance. That's Tagg's job, and he has done it well. Tom Smith would be proud. Sports Illustrated senior writer Tim Layden covers horse racing for the magazine and is a regular contributor to SI.com. Click here to send him a question or comment. |
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