'what A Fiesta We Will Have!'

One tactic Arias admits to is talking to Canonero before a race to psych him up. "Juan believes that his horses can understand him and help him discover what to do," says a Venezuelan friend. "Do you remember the day before the Preakness, when Juan paraded Canonero in the winner's circle? Many people said it was to familiarize Canonero with the crowd and the track. That is baloney. Juan was trying to use psychology on the horse, to show him where he wanted him to go."

After Canonero's first win as a 2-year-old, Baptista and Arias shipped him to Del Mar in California, where he was third and fifth in two starts. "We thought that an American horse should race in America," said Arias. "Mr. Baptista told me on the plane to California that if Canonero won at Del Mar, or if he ran well, he wanted to point him for the Kentucky Derby."

Gustavo Avila, the bushy-browed, taciturn jockey who rode Canonero in the Derby and Preakness, joined the team on March 7 of this year, when he guided the colt to a 2�-length victory in a mile-and-a-quarter race at La Rinconada. The time was slow—2:08[2/5]—but it demonstrated the stamina that has stood the colt in good stead in his two Triple Crown races.

Avila, 31, is considered the premier jockey in Venezuela, or, as Arias puts it, "He is the ace of spades, the ace of jockeys, the ace of men." He did not get on a horse until he was 13 when, on the advice of some school friends, he entered a school for jockeys. "I was terrible," Avila says now, breaking into a rare grin. "In fact, they kicked me out of school several times because I kept falling off."

In Venezuela, Avila is known as "El Monstruo"—the Monster—a nickname of respect among the chalk players who have watched him boot home many long shots. Over his 17-year career Avila has won more than 1,250 races, including five victories in the most important race in Venezuela—the Cl�sico Sim�n Bol�var. He is especially proud of his 1962 record: he won more times (95) than he finished out of the money (78). These totals may seem low by American and European standards, but there is racing only on Saturdays and Sundays in Venezuela. Avila estimates his annual earnings at between $50,000 and $60,000, a figure so high that he and Arias can afford to tease each other about their alleged bolivar-pinching.

One night shortly after the Preakness, the teasing began while they were sitting in a bar drinking Scotch.

Arias: "I'm going to change my money into $5 bills and fill a room full. I will need a shovel."

Avila : "Bah, Arias is too tight. He hasn't even bought me a Coca-Cola to toast Canonero."

Arias: " Avila's hobby is collecting bolivars. He has about five or six trunks full. Every day he drags them out into his yard and he takes the money out to sun. He has bulldogs and German shepherds walking around him in circles for protection. Then he gets his rakes and shovels and puts the money back in the trunks. And besides, Avila, I don't toast anybody with Coca-Cola."

After his initial victory with Canonero, Avila rode the colt twice more, finishing third and first. But then he was replaced by R.D. Guzm�n. The theory, according to Arias, was that Avila was too busy to give Canonero more than perfunctory attention. Guzm�n won his first race aboard Canonero, but on April 10, in the colt's last outing before the Derby, Guzm�n and Canonero were an indifferent third in a 1?-mile handicap. At this point Baptista began to have misgivings about sending Canonero to Louisville. "We couldn't figure it out," says Arias. "He moved well and he was in good shape. We finally decided it must have been the jockey's fault."