Native Dancer (33 page)

After the race, an Associated Press reporter tracked down Guerin, who was sitting out his suspension at home in New York.

“Boy, do I feel low,” Guerin said. “I hope no one feels as low as I do today.”

Why didn’t he travel to Chicago to see the race?

“Watch the Dancer out there with someone else riding? Man, that would make me feel even worse.”

The jockey said he had been confident Arcaro would win, but added, “The Dancer and I, we like to win together.”

Given the Dancer’s supreme intelligence (“he knows it’s a race day as surely as Winfrey does,” Evan Shipman had written),
which some observers believed was his greatest asset, even greater than his physical gifts, it was easy to ascribe to him
the same feeling: that he preferred to win with Guerin. The reality, of course, was that no one knew what he was thinking
or what motivated him. But as he headed back to the barn after winning the American Derby, having tortured Arcaro before letting
him off the hook, it was hard not to perceive a sense of satisfaction in the lively bounce in his step and the happy bob of
his head; hard not to feel that he hadn’t delivered his version of a response to Arcaro, the equine translation of that most
basic of human epithets: “Take that, you little s.o.b.!”

D
espite a seven-race winning streak and career earnings of $743,820, the fourth-highest total ever, the Dancer wasn’t alone
at the top of the American racing world after the American Derby. In fact, hard as it was to believe, many experts didn’t
even feel he was the best horse in training. Tom Fool, a muscular four-year-old bay owned by the Whitney family’s Greentree
Stable, was regarded by many horsemen as superior, having won eight straight races during the year, at distances from five
and a half furlongs to one and a quarter miles, while setting records, carrying up to 136 pounds and ceding vast amounts of
weight.

Bred in Kentucky and sold privately to Greentree for an amount widely believed to have been $25,000, Tom Fool had won five
of seven starts as a two-year-old in 1951—losing the Hopeful Stakes to Vanderbilt’s Cousin—and ended the year as the nation’s
top juvenile. He missed the Triple Crown the next spring because of an illness, but recovered in time to establish his dominance
among his class by the end of the year. Now he had blossomed into a full-fledged star at four, becoming the first horse since
1913 to sweep New York’s handicap Triple Crown—the Metropolitan, Brooklyn, and Suburban, run through the spring and early
summer. He wasn’t as well known from coast to coast as the Dancer, having raced only in New York and not as often on national
TV, but he was equally gifted and, indeed, quite possibly superior.

The idea of pitting the Grey Ghost against Tom Fool had gained momentum through the summer, starting out as little more than
an interesting topic to debate—“Can Vanderbilt’s colt beat Tom Fool?” columnist Nelson Dunstan had asked in the
Morning Telegraph
in June—and making more and more sense as the two horses ran out of opposition in their respective divisions. Tom Fool’s
two starts at Saratoga in August had been little more than exhibitions, with just one horse opposing him in each event and
the track not accepting any bets. Obviously, the owners and trainers of the other top handicap horses didn’t want to take
him on anymore. Similarly, after the Travers and American Derby, it seemed the Dancer was just about out of three-year-old
opposition. Both horses needed a challenge. Bringing them together was a natural.

Vanderbilt loved the idea. The public wanted it, and it would be good for the sport. Jock Whitney, who co-owned Greentree
with his sister, was also in favor. The two men had much in common, although Whitney was seven years older. Both had inherited
large family fortunes, taken over racing stables from their mothers, and been elected to the Jockey Club while still in their
twenties. “They had great respect for each other,” Jeanne Vanderbilt recalled. They also wielded enormous influence in racing,
especially in New York, so it was no surprise when the Westchester Racing Association, which operated Belmont, announced in
July that it was changing the conditions of the Sysonby Mile with the idea of bringing the Grey Ghost and Tom Fool together.

Previously run as a traditional handicap in early October, with weights assigned by racing secretary John Campbell, the Sysonby
was being changed to a “weight-for-age” event in late September, with the purse rising from $20,000 to $50,000. Tom Fool and
all four-year-olds would carry 126 pounds. The Dancer and all three-year-olds would carry 119 pounds. Vanderbilt and Whitney
nominated their horses to run in those conditions, “and if all goes well and both horses are right, there is no doubt they’ll
meet,” Vanderbilt told reporters.

Not since the ballyhooed match race between War Admiral and Seabiscuit, which Vanderbilt had staged in 1938 when he was running
Pimlico, had a possible meeting of champions so intrigued the racing world. Talk of Tom Fool and the Dancer dominated conversations
through the early fall, with opinions in the nation’s barns, grandstands, and press boxes divided, as might be expected, into
two camps—those who thought Tom Fool would win and those picking the Dancer.

There was no doubt which camp was larger. The Greentree star was older, more experienced, and more dominating, usually leaving
his opponents far behind before reaching the finish line, unlike the Dancer. The Dancer was the people’s choice, but more
experts thought Tom Fool would win.
Newsweek’s
John Lardner picked him “on the principle that weight-carrying is one of Tom Fool’s special talents.” Calumet’s Plain Ben
Jones agreed, telling Grantland Rice that “Vanderbilt should keep his horse away from Tom Fool—if he don’t want to get licked.”
When the
Daily Racing Form
asked veteran racecaller Clem McCarthy to “visualize” a meeting and write a column about it, McCarthy picked Tom Fool to
win by a length.

The most telling support for the Greentree four-year-old came from Evan Shipman, the insightful
Morning Telegraph
columnist who had written so glowingly about the Dancer all year. “We do not hesitate in picking Tom Fool to win,” he wrote
in a September 9 column, “and this selection, we will add, is that of all the horsemen with whom we have discussed the race,
while the preference of the general public veers strongly in the other direction. As we see it, Tom Fool is a great horse,
and we have the proper respect for the adjective. He has as much speed as any horse we have ever seen at all our popular distances.
He can carry crushing weights, and he has admirable consistency. Native Dancer is not to be faulted on any of these counts,
but it is a question of degree. Native Dancer is versatile, courageous and fast, nor do we think that we have ever failed
to pay full tribute to those qualities. Nevertheless, we have seen Tom Fool do things of which we do not believe Native Dancer,
good as he is, is capable. It will take direct evidence to convince us that we are wrong.”

The Grey Ghost wasn’t without his supporters among experts. Guerin, admittedly biased, told reporters after the Dwyer Stakes
in July that the rare weight advantage for the Dancer would prove decisive. The
Baltimore Sun’s
William Boniface also thought Vanderbilt’s horse would win. “In all the match races I had seen, the come-from-behind horse
won,” Boniface recalled years later. “Seabiscuit was a plodder, War Admiral was the speed horse, and Seabiscuit won. That’s
why I liked Native Dancer over Tom Fool. Tom Fool was flashier, the one that dominated races. But Native Dancer was the workhorse.”

Newsweek’s
Lardner interviewed Winfrey and Greentree trainer John Gaver in early September, with the race some three weeks away.

“We’re giving the grey horse seven pounds,” Gaver said. “Can we do it? I don’t know. The Dancer is all power. Nobody knows
yet how fast he can run if he has to.”

“Those big, wide turns at Belmont are made to order for Tom Fool,” Winfrey said. “He is much cleverer than my horse. He can
turn on a dime. And the race is one mile, which has always been Tom Fool’s best distance.”

The countdown was on.

The Dancer was dealing with a sore left front foot, discovered shortly after the American Derby, but although it had hindered
his training, it wasn’t expected to interfere with the race. Dr. William Wright, Vanderbilt’s veterinarian, had trimmed a
pair of small stone bruises from the bottom of the foot in late August, and the area was expected to be trouble-free once
the foot “grew back.” Winfrey was optimistic after the Dancer galloped at Belmont on September 7. “He seemed first-rate this
morning,” the trainer said. “We let him gallop out a bit, and he moved into it comfortably and looked well. I guess, and hope,
that we located the trouble and caught it in time. As soon as it appears certain the tenderness has left the two spots we
cut out, we’ll breeze him. That ought to be in the next couple of days.”

The colt was in a playful mood after another gallop the next morning, hamming it up for photographers and trying to unseat
Everson, but there was lingering soreness in the foot the next day. The race was just sixteen days away, and the Grey Ghost
still wasn’t in serious training; he hadn’t breezed since late August. It was going to be difficult to have him in top condition
for the Sysonby.

After thinking the situation over for a night, Vanderbilt issued a statement on September 12: “After Native Dancer’s last
workout, the injured hoof showed that it had not healed sufficiently from the removal of the bruised parts and that it would
be approximately a week before it would be safe to continue full training. Inasmuch as the Sysonby is only two weeks away,
it will be impossible to have him at his best for the race. It would not be fair, either to the horse or to the public, to
run him when he is not at his best. So we feel we must announce that Native Dancer will not run in the Sysonby.

“It’s just a matter of time. If the Sysonby was a week later than it is, we would not have to issue a statement today, as
there would be a good chance that he would be ready for the race.”

Race-goers everywhere were disappointed, and especially those in New York. The Westchester Racing Association had gone to
great trouble to bring the two horses together in the Sysonby, but now only Tom Fool would run. There was, however, still
hope of getting the horses into the same starting gate. The Pimlico Special, another weight-for-age event that Vanderbilt
had inaugurated when he was running Pimlico, loomed as a possibility. Vanderbilt and Winfrey said they would probably run
the Dancer in the Jockey Club Gold Cup, a two-mile race at Belmont on October 10, then ship him to Pimlico for the Special
on October 24. Gaver said he wouldn’t run Tom Fool in the Gold Cup—his horse had never raced more than one and a quarter miles,
so two miles seemed like a stretch—but the Pimlico Special was, indeed, in his plans. The news struck like a thunderbolt in
Baltimore: the race of the year, if not the decade, would apparently take place there.

But then came a second announcement from Barn 20, one week after the first, quashing plans for the new “dream race.” On September
19, Winfrey told reporters that Dr. Wright had discovered more bruises on the bottom of the Dancer’s left front foot, and
although they were small, they had to be cut away. That meant more time off from serious training, and since the Dancer had
already accomplished so much, he was being retired for the year. Vanderbilt had made the decision. The Dancer’s three-year-old
season was over.

The racing press and public were profoundly dejected. The
Thoroughbred Record
called it “a stunning disappointment, almost a personal blow.” The Grey Ghost’s fans were speechless. Tom Fool’s fans smiled,
believing that Vanderbilt, contrary to his reputation as a sportsman, was ducking the older horse; speculation was so rampant
that the
Morning Telegraph
reported that the Dancer’s retirement for the year had “stirred up controversy.” Vanderbilt added to the frustration when
he told reporters that the Dancer could probably have continued to race with bar plates protecting his injured foot if he
had been “just another colt,” but since the horse was a star with higher standards to uphold, he was being shut down altogether.

Vanderbilt surely was willing to run a healthy Dancer against Tom Fool, but he was uncomfortable with the pressure to run.
According to his son years later, he was influenced by his memory of the famed match race between War Admiral and Seabiscuit,
which Vanderbilt had promoted at Pimlico in 1938. “Dad told me he always felt bad about the way he ‘kind of trapped’ [War
Admiral owner] Sam Riddle into running,” Alfred Vanderbilt III said. “He felt that War Admiral wasn’t in shape for the race
and wouldn’t have run if the pressure hadn’t been so fierce. I think that’s why he didn’t want to commit the Dancer; why the
sore ankle was a good reason to retire him for the year. He knew he could never duck a match race even if he needed to, having
promoted the greatest one of all himself.”