The real “gut punch” is to the industry, Mr. Baffert
© Andrew Sgroi | All Rights Reserved
Yesterday I got the biggest gut punch in racing for something that I didn’t do. This is really disturbing, it’s an injustice to the horse. — Bob Baffert | Sunday, May 9, 2021
Let’s get one thing out of the way at the jump. The man quoted in his own words above isn’t in the National Racing Museum Hall of Fame undeservedly. Anyone who has followed Thoroughbred horse racing long enough—and, frankly, even someone new to the game—knows that Bob Baffert is a name synonymous with the sport because of all of his remarkable accomplishments.
Seven Kentucky Derby champions, two U.S. Triple Crown winners, five Breeder’s Cup Classic champions—and those are just the “bullets” to a career training line which boasts more than 3,000 wins.
But something has happened to Mr. Baffert on his way to becoming the affable ambassador to the sport—he’s gotten sloppy in his technique.
There was the failed drug test of 2018 Triple Crown winner, Justify, following his Santa Anita Derby win, which propelled him to the 3-race sweep of the American Classics later that spring and summer. The California Horse Racing Board (CHRB) eventually dismissed the positive test, citing evidence of feed contamination. Baffert even enjoyed a rather strong defense of his reputation in the aftermath.
Then there were the dual failed drug tests, months apart, for Baffert’s champion 3 y.o. filly, Gamine, in 2020. The latter violation actually wiped out her win in September’s already unusual Kentucky Oaks.
And now, there’s this pall cloaking the 147th Kentucky Derby winner, Medina Spirit, for which Baffert has finally received a suspension from Churchill Downs (but interestingly, not the Kentucky Horse Racing Commission).
Mr. Baffert first claimed the betamethasone detected in Medina Spirit’s test sample was not administered by him. And he’s also since explained it away, citing the drug as an active ingredient in an ointment that a veterinarian had recommended for treatment of some dermatitis that Medina Spirit had developed on his hind quarters.
The excuses are plausible and, possibly, wholly accurate.
But the very fact that these excuses have become a familiar refrain—even if he isn’t the one singing them—shows just how frayed at the edges the sport has become.
No, Mr. Baffert, the gut punch you claim you received, almost hyperbolically, after learning of Medina Spirit’s post-Derby positive test rings hollow.
You’ve been protected and given the benefit of the doubt plenty. At this point, you simply come off as the boy who cried “wolf.”
The real “gut punch” is to the industry.
Think about it.
If horse racing lacks any integrity among even its brightest stars, then it absolutely validates the threat of one horseman to take his entire operation exclusively to Europe, where doping scandals are vigorously adjudicated.
And sadly, it even validates the efforts of those who wish to abolish the sport.
I’m an eternal optimist though, and I feel as if this could finally be the tipping point for real change within the U.S. racing industry.
Sure, trainers Jason Servis and Jorge Navarro have become poster boys for what happens to cheaters when they allegedly try to win at any cost.
But they aren’t Bob Baffert.
The game is now in peril.
The only thing that can save it is meaningful reform.
One place to start is with a true governing body for the sport—yes, a commissioner. The dozens of jurisdictions established through state racing commissions is arguably how we got here in the first place. And although I’m not suggesting they’re without merit, there should be oversight even for their decisions.
There are, of course, countless other ways for the sport to recapture accountability. And I will wholeheartedly support the earnest efforts of those far more qualified than myself to suggest and implement them.
But Baffert’s protestations and “not me” attitude have worn thin.
He’s gotten sloppy. That much is certain. And I don’t think it’s too much to expect a Hall of Fame trainer to know what’s going on with every one of his horses—especially the champions in his barn.
We, the betting public and the fans of the sport, aren’t stupid.
And neither is Baffert.
For he was truthful in one respect when he made that leading quote…
“It’s an injustice to the horse.”