Because of the varied roles I’ve held within the sport, I’ve seen first-hand of jockey colonies that are home to not only some of the up and coming stars, but the wily veterans that continue to make this game great. I have seen jockeys be many things: stoic winners, doting dads, kind confidants to cancer-stricken kids, mentors to each other. They deserve a lot more credit, both on- and off-the-track for what they do.
And I thought I had seen it all when it came to what can happen on the track. Then came Del Mar’s 6th race on August 14th: Fantasy Free, a stakes winning 5yo, making his first start for Mike Mitchell in the allowance event, was mid-stretch when his right leg snapped. This sent jockey Mike Smith flying through the air, bouncing off his back, and landing about ten feet from the fallen horse. With both visibly in shock, Mike jumped to his feet and ran over to Fantasy Free, holding the horse’s head until the outrider and vets pulled him off.
Mike was later quoted as saying “I thought I was going to win the race.” I’m sure he’d rather have had the horse come back alive. I, in no way, condemn either of the Mike’s (Smith or Mitchell) for what happened to Fantasy Free: my guess is a bad step combined with a track that was breaking out from under him caused a freak break of the leg.
But what Mike did after will forever live with me: that it took two guys to talk him into walking away from his fallen partner showed me a level of humanity and compassion that is rarely on public display from athletes of his caliber.
Fast forward three months to the Churchill Downs tunnel post-Breeders’ Cup Classic: I’m using it as a shortcut to get back to the press box, when ESPN and TVG’s camera lights alert me to a scene coming from the track. Mike Smith, having gotten off Zenyatta, is walking to the post-race press conference. Only thing is: he’s not saying a word. Normally jockeys talk to the reporters and the cameras as they walk down the chute: case in point was Martin Garcia with HRTV. But Mike couldn’t say a word. He was too choked up.
When he sat down, the first words out of his mouth were “It’s my fault. I got her beat.” For a press box that’s not known for sympathetic shoulders, everyone took a deep breath to take in the brevity of that statement.
In the days to come, Mike would explain that he felt something was amiss in first furlongs of the race and was unsure of what to do, that Quality Road stopping in front of him caused the delay in the split-second timing of him pulling Zenyatta’s trigger, that still no stud is worthy of her greatness.
Mike Smith became somewhat of a character on two seasons of the Animal Planet series, “Jockeys,” but he proved to be so much more this summer. I have seen jockeys come back without their horses and horses without their jockeys, but such character is something we need more of.
