The Days Of The Roses

In 1960 I won again, on Venetian Way. Plenty of people were surprised that Venetian Way won, but it wasn't that big a surprise to me. Tompion was the favorite, but to me Bally Ache was the horse to beat. Bally Ache beat Venetian Way unmercifully in a prep race before the Derby, but that wasn't my horse's best race. I knew that if Venetian Way was in great shape he could win. He was in great shape and came back after that beating, and he just aired in the Derby. Venetian Way had a light constitution. He could really run fast, but he just didn't have the endurance to put his good races back to back—which made him unlike Bally Ache. Bally Ache ran practically every week and had a tough campaign as a 2-year-old. He could put forth a good effort every time he raced. Venetian Way was different and didn't ever come back to that Derby form again.

Until we got to Kentucky in '62 I had never ridden Decidedly. I had seen him run second to Sir Gaylord in Florida, but down there he was kind of a green horse. He had a lot of ability but never really showed it. I rode him twice in Kentucky and he was second both times, once to Roman Line and once to Ridan, but in both of those races he just acted like he wasn't putting everything out. After that I asked his trainer, Horatio Luro, to try blinkers on him. I don't know whether the blinkers made the difference or not but he did wear them in the Derby and he did run a helluva race. And he did win, beating both Roman Line and Ridan. He may have just been coming up good anyway, but I felt much better when they put blinkers on him.

Thinking back on the Preakness two weeks later, I just have to believe that Decidedly ran so hard in his Derby that he couldn't build himself back up again for a while. I know it was hot that day in Baltimore, but it was hot for everybody. He broke the track record in the Derby, and I think it took so much out of him that he ran very ordinary in the Preakness.

I rode my next Derby winner in '64, and again this one—Northern Dancer—was trained by Mr. Luro. I don't know what his system is, but I had been riding off and on for Mr. Luro for four years or so and I always found his horses in great shape when I rode them, particularly in the big races. He is a very easy man to work with. When I would explain something to him he would think about it and give it some time. He wouldn't just dismiss it from his mind. If it had merit, he would use the suggestion.

The first time I rode Northern Dancer before the '64 Derby was in the Blue Grass Stakes at Keeneland. From my observation of Northern Dancer, even before that, he was always kind of a speed horse. I mean, he was always up there, one, two or three in all his races, and I think in Canada he was on the lead in the majority of his races, too. I had this on my mind when I went to ride him in the Blue Grass. It was funny that both Mr. Luro and I were thinking the same thing—we wanted to see how he would finish if we tried to rate him as much as possible. Well, in the Blue Grass he went the first three-quarters of a mile in 1:15, but he went the last eighth in 11[2/5]. It was a tremendous move on the part of Northern Dancer, and it showed us that he could be rated. This, I think, really helped us in the Derby, because he actually was now changed from a speed horse to a horse that would come from behind.

The next week in the Derby I was back in sixth place, and that's exactly where I wanted to be. In a race like the Kentucky Derby, a mile and a quarter, you have lots of horses in there that perhaps don't belong, and particularly some that are just speed horses, so it was very enlightening to know that Northern Dancer could be rated. Whether he could win or not was another thing, but I think the fact that I was able to nurse him along the first part of it helped him quite a bit. He might have been able to win on the lead anyway, I don't know, but it was taking less of a chance this way. Hill Rise, I felt, was the horse to beat. I think Mr. Luro felt that, too, and it was just a question of making sure that we got the jump on him, rather than having him get the jump on us. He had a clear shot at us through the lane, but he just wasn't able to catch us.

Every one of these four Derbies gave me equal satisfaction. The next one is the one that's on your mind the most. I've already got four. I'm thinking about No. 5, if I can get it. I thought I might get it with Bold Lad in '65. The way he won the one-mile Derby Trial so easily and all, I thought he might be any kind of a horse. He couldn't have won that any easier than he did. He just did everything perfectly. But on the way to the post in the Derby, he just didn't feel right to me. It could have been the effects of his spring splint trouble or the calcium deposit that he has on one knee or, as his trainer later pointed out, a sudden fever that might have taken hold of him a few hours before post time. But whatever it was, Bold Lad never ran anywhere near his best, and on this day, certainly, he was never going to beat a colt at the top of his form like Lucky Debonair.

Reporters have asked me on occasion, while referring to periods of slumps that most athletes go through in other sports, what my feeling is about slumps in racing. There is a tendency, and a stupid one, to connect the success of a rider with the ability of his agent. Let me explain. In the first place I haven't seen many good agents, regardless of how many winners their jocks ride. If a jock doesn't have any good mounts an agent isn't going to do anything for him. If an agent gets him on some mounts and he starts winning, he starts getting better mounts. That doesn't mean that the agent is necessarily a good agent, because that's what an agent is getting paid for: to get him mounts. And if a jock can win on them, he puts himself in demand. The agent isn't doing it. The jock, by winning races, is doing it. No agent has ever made a jock. If a jock's not in demand, an agent's not going to do anything with him.

Because the press feels like building it up, my relationship with agents has been considered stormy. I don't think it's been stormy at all. I guarantee that in the 15 years I've been riding I've had fewer agents than some of the riders in the top 20. And I guarantee that if I fired my agent tomorrow, it would be all over the racetrack and in every paper in the country. Any other rider changes agents—with the exception of Shoemaker or a real top one—and you wouldn't hear anything about it. Because it wouldn't be news—manufactured news, that is. I consider that as long as I'm paying an agent I not only have the right to fire him anytime I want, but I have a right to criticize him if I don't think he's doing his job properly. Two people don't get along and the employer fires the employee. That's such a big deal? I am paying him. He's got 20% of me. I don't have 80% of him.

Some people consider a slump is anytime you're not winning any races. That's stupid. They wouldn't know what a slump was if they saw one. I've seen riders ride as good as they always do, no change at all, and they won't win a race in a month. I don't consider them in a slump. I guarantee you that I can take absolutely the best rider there is and pick out some horses for him to ride for a period of two weeks and he won't win any races. And he'll be considered in a slump. The point is, if he isn't on horses that can run he's automatically got to lose. As for me, when I feel that I'm not at my best, both physically and mentally, I take a vacation. I know before anybody else when my reflexes are off or if I'm going through a mental thing where I'm bugged about something, and then I'll take a week or so off.