Monday, Dec. 6, 1999 | 9:14 a.m.
Ralph Siraco's horse racing column appears Monday and his Southern California selections appear Tuesday through Friday. Write to him c/o Las Vegas Sun, 800 S. Valley View Blvd, Las Vegas, NV 89107.
It is likely that sometime this week jockey Laffit Pincay, Jr. will become the winningest jockey in thoroughbred racing history.
After Pincay registers lifetime win No. 8,834 he will boast that no man, woman or child has ever won more races in the sport's recorded history, and he will do it with the same dignity and quiet confidence that has become the hallmark of this racing icon.
The Laffit Pincay, Jr. story has been well documented and has all the makings of a Hollywood blockbuster movie. His life is dotted with all the elements of such an epic. And they are all real.
Now, national and local media from beyond the world of racing are watching and recording every Pincay move as the 52-years-young rider inches toward Bill Shoemaker's all-time mark of 8,833 victories.
As of Sunday's Hollywood Park races, Pincay -- who won one race on the Sabbath card -- needs just a pair of precious victories to tie the "Shoe" and a triad of trips to the winner's circle to hold the record alone.
The Sunday edition of the Daily Racing Form is filled with Pincay stories that span his life and times from personal and professional perspectives. And in the upcoming days you'll find it easy to commit to memory all the accomplishments and statistics, the records and trophies, the milestones and memories that Pincay has achieved, through endless accounts in publications and electronic media outlets covering a brief but important slice of his career.
So, while you digest all the benchmarks of this champion, let's reflect on a pair of Pincay stories from personal experience -- from the times our paths have crossed in the small and closely knit world of racing.
It was early 1968 in Southern California and this teen-age youth was exercising horses on the circuit's racetracks with aspirations of someday riding in the afternoons under silks.
I would amble through the Hollywood Park backstretch plying my trade as the "jocks" filed in to drill horses for upcoming afternoon engagements. I remember vividly the stable parking lot full of the new Lincoln Continentals, looking like the front line of the local dealership. Every jockey had his own color and model, a sign of riding success. Pincay, as I recall, had a blue with white landau top.
One day while leaving the backside and walking to my modest Mustang, Pincay stopped to talk for a moment. He told me he was going to nearby Redondo Beach to jog on the sand, and, if I would like, I could join him.
Wow, I thought, jogging with "Pinky the Pirate." Yes. You see, for all the success that Pincay had attained, it came with a price. Built in a larger-than-normal frame for a jockey, Laffit had to "reduce" constantly, to a point of almost inhuman proportions.
Parked at the beach and limbered up, I was ready to make marks in the Pacific sand with the leading rider of Hollywood Park. The kid was finally going uptown. We started jogging and by the time I had a chance to get my bearings all I saw was the south end of a northbound Pincay. The next time I saw him was in the post parade of the second race that afternoon.
It was then I realized how much dedication Pincay possessed, how much sacrifice and discipline that this man who was making so much money and driving shiny new cars had to endure. It was then I realized that talent alone was not enough for this champion and that nothing he had accomplished had come easy.
Dreaming of riding in the afternoon and paying the dues was not enough, not in this highly intense game of danger and chance. It was a real-life reality check that made a lasting impression. Life at the top is often harder than climbing the ladder to get there. ...
It was the spring of 1985. I was now a track announcer by trade, and Pincay was tapped by owner Dennis Diaz to ride his Kentucky Derby winner Spend A Buck in the upcoming Jersey Derby at Garden State Park. This was no ordinary owner and it was no ordinary stakes-race engagement. During that inaugural meeting at the South Jersey track, management had instituted a bonus of $2 million to any horse that could win the Cherry Hill Mile, Garden State Stakes and Kentucky Derby, then return to win the Jersey Derby in the midst of the Triple Crown run.
Spend A Buck had qualified for the bonus and was shunning the institution of a Triple Crown quest to go instead for the money.
Trainer Cam Gambolati had employed jockey Angel Cordero, Jr. as the rider for Spend A Buck throughout his run, but Cordero could not be in two places at one time. He had made a season-long commitment to ride handicap star Track Barron, and as luck would have it he was running in a stakes race in New York on the same day of the Jersey Derby. Now, $2 million was on the line and there was a new rider: Pincay.
The Pincay work ethic would once again be the winning factor. And it would take him coast-to-coast this time. Laffit rode in California on the Wednesday card, hopped a red-eye to Philadelphia and limoed to Garden State Park in time to climb aboard Spend A Buck for his final workout Thursday morning. Then he was whisked away in time to catch a late morning plane back to the West Coast to ride at Hollywood Park that afternoon.
The workout with his new partner proved invaluable on Jersey Derby Day. Spend A Buck was put to an all-out test, and it was Pincay who coaxed the winning effort from the Hunter Farm color-bearer to the tune of a $2.6-million payday.
As I did the post-race interview of Pincay and company, I could not help but reflect on the memory of that mid-morning jog so many years before at Redondo Beach. ...
Finally, the famous "Peanut Story," and the final testament of Pincay's discipline, willpower and mental toughness: As the story goes, Pincay and trainer D. Wayne Lukas were flying cross country for a stakes engagement when the stewardess on the airline came by to take the dinner order of the passengers in first class.
Lukas settled on the steak, while Pincay requested a glass of water and a bag of peanuts.
When the orders arrived Lukas began his assault on the heifer at hand while Pincay carefully extracted one peanut from the bag. As Lukas continued to carve away at his hearty offering Pincay sliced the peanut in two with the accuracy of a heart surgeon.
Laffit proceeded to slowly savor the half-peanut until all the flavor vanished from the powder-fine chewed morsel. The rider then washed it away with his water libation.
An hour or so after Lukas had cleared away his dinner he noticed Pincay preparing the other half-peanut for another ritual of nourishment. And that was it. That was all Pincay consumed on the flight. One single peanut. To this day, Lukas recalls that flight in awe of Pincay's discipline.
Sometime this week, when Pincay rides number 8,834. I'll reflect on that jog on the beach, Lukas will remember the peanut flight, Diaz will recall a big "Buck" bankroll and all racing fans will look back on their own Pincay memories.
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