Hovdey: Barnes gets American Pharoah ready for his close-up

What a display – the pandering, the pleading, the willingness to say anything in hopes of making an impossible wish come true.

The presidential candidates’ debates on Fox News had some of that, sure. But the real, sweaty desperation has reached fevered heights in the quest for a much loftier goal: the quest for American Pharoah.

The beseeching began the moment American Pharoah hit the wire in the Haskell Invitational, lighting up Bob Baffert’s phone.

Come to Minnesota, Bob. The skeeters aren’t that bad. Come to Pennsylvania. We got casino money like you won’t believe. No, Bob, come to Saratoga because … Saratoga.

Come to New Jersey again in the fall, Bob. This time, we get The Boss for sure, and maybe even Jon Stewart. And here’s a call from Santa Anita, Bob. They have a race with your name on it, too. Seriously, they will put your name on it.

Upon American Pharoah’s return to Del Mar last Monday, Baffert got a call from Joe Harper, who runs the place.

“Hi, Joe.”

“Congratulations, Bob.”

“Don’t ask. I don’t know where he’s running next.”

“I know, I know. But when the media asks, I want to be able to tell them I called you.”

“Okay, you’re covered.”

“So, how’s the family?”

It will be like this for another week or so, at least until American Pharoah get his legs back beneath him and a bit of lost travel weight regained. By now, it is clear that he is a horse whose powers of recovery are unique, whether recovering from a work, a race, a ship, or an encounter with a celebrity entourage. Still, it is Baffert’s job to remain skeptical in the face of American Pharoah’s unusual resilience. The trainer must constantly wonder, “What am I missing? What is he hiding?” because the good ones are good because they are brave.

Anyway, opportunities abound, whether it’s a purse bump to $1.6 million for the Travers (basically a New York Racing Association rounding error), or a juicy bonus incentive for an Awesome Again-Breeders’ Cup Classic sweep, or a couple million casino bucks at Parx.

What remains are the nuts and bolts of running such a high-profile creature anywhere, and many of those bolts are tightened by Jimmy Barnes, Baffert’s assistant trainer, who is responsible for maintaining an ordinary, orderly routine for an extraordinary athlete.

“On a race day, I usually walk him at 6:30 or 7,” Barnes said after the Haskell. “Then you sit there and wait for the state vets to come by and examine him. By the time they get there, it’s 8:30, then you get him done up. I went back to the hotel at around 11, then came back to the barn at 1. The race was at 5:50, so he got his Lasix at 1:50. After that, it was just waiting.”

Sounds simple enough, until the American Pharoah factor kicks in.

“The worst thing is you’ve just got to sit there and keep people away from him,” Barnes said. “They want to come take their picture with him, but hey, it’s race day. They’ll go, ‘I know I shouldn’t be asking, but …’ You’re right. You shouldn’t be asking. I want to be polite, but get the hell out of here.

“Mainly, you’ve got to hide,” Barnes said, “because if people see you, they start coming. So, I try to find a nice cool, enclosed area where they can’t see me, but I can see the horse. Because no matter if you’ve got security or not, they find a way to get in there, and the next thing you know, you’ve got someone standing right in front of him.”

Barnes traditionally watches the barn’s Haskell runners from atop a brick ledge behind the Monmouth winner’s circle. This is not to presuppose the outcome, although Barnes has greeted eight Baffert-trained Haskell winners to date. Rather it offers him quick access to the playing field in case anything goes wrong.

Everything went right last Sunday, even Victor Espinoza’s decision to drop anchor at the eighth pole, thus creating the optical illusion of Keen Ice mounting a late threat.

“I could tell what Victor was doing, throttling down on him,” Barnes said. “I just thought it might have been a little bit too early. If he rides him a sixteenth of a mile longer, he probably wins by eight, so instead, he wins by two. He did go fast early, but I don’t think he was tired. He would have kept going. So, maybe it was better not to push him any harder than he did.”

The Triple Crown imposes a strict, artificial calendar that removes timing from the trainer’s hands and provides a built-in excuse for failure. Except that American Pharoah did not fail.

Now, untethered from the Triple Crown, there is no prescribed schedule, only the goal of the Breeders’ Cup Classic out there at the end of the rainbow. If nothing else, the Haskell proved to Baffert that it was okay to run American Pharoah again, that the sky did not fall nor the earth open up and swallow them whole for taunting fate.

His next race should be a beauty, wherever it happens. In the meantime, the colt never seems far from mainstream thought. At one point during the Thursday night political spectacle, comedian Garry Shandling tweeted:

“My debate prediction: triple crown winner American Pharoah, again.”

Left or right, nobody disagreed.