Everybody is an expert at the racetrack

"Don't bet against the favorite to win this one," a seasonedtrackgoer told me as I approached a betting window. He wasn't referring to the big Stakes race, the 11th, that haddrawn nearly 100,000 people to Long Island in the boiling heat onSaturday. This was the third. I looked up at the screen and noticed that the odds on Smart Enuf,the number 8 horse, had dropped to 4 to 5. In the first two races,I had put my money on two underdogs to win, only to see them comein second, so I decided to heed this expert's advice. "Two dollars on 5, to place," I told the teller. (I know whatyou're thinking, but with eight more races to go, I wasn't preparedto break the bank.) As it turned out, it was a good thing that I changed my bet at thelast minute before post time, because my horse, Seeking No More,did come in second, yielding me a $6.10 payout, which would be myonly victory of the day. But the expert was wrong about heavyfavorite Smart Enuf -- another horse, Piazza Di Spagna, wound up inthe winner's circle. It was an early reminder of the oldest rule in horse racing -- thatthere's no such thing as a sure thing. The lesson was hammered homein much more dramatic fashion five hours later, when the heavilyhyped Big Brown became the 11th horse in 30 years to blow theTriple Crown on the unforgiving mile-and-a-half Belmont track. AT FIRST, I was a bit reluctant to make the trek up to New Yorkfrom Washington for the Belmont, let alone deal with the crowds andthe sweltering heat for hours. Four years ago, I had been fooled,watching live as the 1 to 5 favorite, Smarty Jones, blew anopportunity to win the Triple Crown at the very end. But this time seemed different. I watched what Big Brown did at theKentucky Derby and at Preakness. It wasn't just that he won eachrace easily, by about five lengths, but that he seemed to be sorelaxed. Big Brown had waited patiently, keeping with the pack the wholerace but biding his time, only to explode after the final turn,displaying incredible breakaway speed, and leaving the rest of thefield in the dust. Having a cool demeanor is a must for theBelmont, because it is a quarter mile longer than the KentuckyDerby, and if the horse gets jumpy too early, it risks getting wornout down the stretch (which is exactly what happened to SmartyJones). Big Brown's Trainer Rick Dutrow Jr. wasn't winning many fans amongthe other trainers with a series of boastful comments leading up tothe race. "He is by far the best horse in the race," Dutrow braggedlast Tuesday. "I've seen him run and I've seen the other horsesrun. It's simple." Earlier, he had called a Big Brown victory a"foregone conclusion." Dutrow brushed aside suggestions that his horse may not handle thedistance, that the inside post position he drew would be a problem,or that he needed steroids, which had been administered beforeprior races. He also reassured everybody that a small crack in BigBrown's hoof was nothing to worry about. The horse's victory seemedmore inevitable when the Japanese-bred Casino Drive, Big Brown'schief rival, was forced out of the race due to injury. So I took the bait, and my friends and I were on the first LongIsland Rail Road train of the morning out to Belmont. Before 11, wehad set up folding chairs outside, right before the finish line,where we expected to watch history unfold in less than eight hours. IT WAS a long day. The temperature at the track was hovering around90 degrees, and the intense sun seemed to be locking its gaze rightat our seats. I applied level 50 lotion to my skin, and I purchaseda knockoff top t shirt for five bucks to cover my headand protect my neck from the fierce rays. While the crowd was eager to see a Triple Crown winner, it didn'tseem that people bonded with this horse as they did with SmartyJones. I remember four years earlier, t-shirts were more popular,and fans waved Smarty Jones signs. Yet, as the horn sounded and BigBrown first walked on the track, I tried several times to no availto start chants of "BIG-BROWN! TRIPLE-CROWN!" With the odds at a ridiculous 1-4, and no way of making real money,I just decided to place $2 on Big Brown to save the winning ticketas a souvenir (I placed a separate $10 bet on the 12-1 Tale ofEkati to come in third). When I first saw Big Brown in person, it seemed that something wasa bit amiss. Although the horse was known for his Tiger Woods-liketemperament, he looked jittery to me. As he walked by, about 20feet way, he turned his head and body sideways. Our positioning couldn't have been any better, as we were standingright in front of the starting gate. But given that we were ontrack level, we didn't have any elevation to see what was going onduring the rest of the race, so watched on the screen, and lookedat the board that displayed the order of the horses. Based on what we were able to determine, it looked like Big Brownwas running the perfect race, sticking in the top three positionsfor a mile, and, so we thought, just waiting for the right time toexplode. As the second half started, I began to feel an adrenalinrush. "It's just like Preakness," I said. My brother Bruce, who had joined us, predicted: "When he starts tomake a move, people are going to go nuts." But nothing happened. INSTEAD, BIG BROWN suddenly dropped off of the leader board. Da'Tara, a 38-1 underdog who Big Brown had beaten by 23 1/2 lengthsthe last time they faced, galloped past the finish line, followedby seven other horses. Then I looked down the track and Big Brownwas trotting toward the finish, his head lifted up, as I looked ondeflated. All of the physical tests taken since the race have come backnegative, and as of now there are lots of theories, but no actualexplanation for what went wrong. Jockey Kent Desormeaux gave thesimplest answer: "I had no horse." We made our way to the exits along with the rest of the stunnedcrowd, hearing all sorts of tales. Somebody walking ahead of mesaid he was standing next to a man who had bet $40 on the longshotDa' Tara to win, earning a hefty payout of nearly $1,600. We navigated through the picnic area, where people packed up theircoolers and vendors tried to peddle Belmont t-shirts that theycould no longer give away. "Everybody so stupid," a man in a beige tank top hollered,tauntingly pointing at his head for emphasis. "Why nobody listen tome? I tell everybody, this horse was weak. It no have any stamina!" If only I had been speaking to the right expert.