INGLEWOOD, Calif. - Submitted for your approval, with all humility, this Californian's guide to the second jewel of the Triple Crown.
If I can't be in Maryland this week, I want to make sure someone is having my share of the fun.
When first encountered years ago, it took all of 20 minutes to get comfortable with Baltimore and to understand why so many horsemen, fans, and racing journalists have a weakness for the Preakness.
BALTIMORE - He's the speed of the Preakness.
There was a lot of speed in the Kentucky Derby, touching off a record pace that saw a first half-mile in 44.86 seconds. The leaders, and most of those who flirted with the lead, paid the price, smoothing the way for Monarchos's stretch punch. Richly Blended isn't the only speed in the Preakness but he may be the quickest, and the most likely to go to the front at the start. The reaction to such a development is what the Preakness will be all about.
BALTIMORE - Even after Jorge Chavez had established himself as the top race-winning rider in New York, most trainers were reluctant to put him atop their best horses.
Chavez was so aggressive that he had earned the nickname Chop Chop, a description of his slashing style with the whip. Gamblers loved him because he was obviously trying so hard to win, and trainers vied to acquire his services for claiming races. But ride Chavez on a valuable stakes horse? That was a different matter.
TUCSON, Ariz. - Lasix has become American racing's greatest joke and biggest disgrace.
It is supposed to be a medication for bleeders, and the sport continues to support that pretense, knowing it is a phony excuse. Just how phony came to light two weeks ago in Kentucky, where surprises in medication are not surprising.
America's greatest race, the Kentucky Derby, brought out a field of 17 of the best 3-year-olds in the sport.
All 17 ran on Lasix.
How could that be? Were all 17 bleeders? Have things gotten that bad?
WASHINGTON - Many superior Thoroughbreds reside at Arthur Hancock's Stone Farm in Paris, Ky., but the breeder was especially excited about one who was barely a lump of protoplasm.
It was a foal being carried by the mare Angel Fever, a foal who would have been born with the most regal of bloodlines had a mystery disease not devastated the Bluegrass Country.
INGLEWOOD, Calif. - It must have been a grim Mother's Day in Kentucky. Ravaged by disease, the cradle of the North American Thoroughbred business is reeling from a syndrome that has been killing hundreds of early fetuses and, to a lesser extent, foals in late gestation.
To those of us who rarely gets our hands dirty, this is a compelling story of both economic and psychological impact. For anyone who works with mares and foals - mothers and their children - it is an unprecedented catastrophe, an indiscriminate plague of Biblical proportions.
BALTIMORE - The selection of post positions for the Preakness will be televised Wednesday by ESPN, and although it is done in a made-for-TV format, it is unlikely to generate riveting drama. Few viewers will swoon when they hear a trainer announce, "We'll take Number 8."
Yet serious racing fans will watch the draw with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment. They will wonder how the savviest trainers and owners in the business can act so irrationally.