A Magnificent Articles About Barbaro-Racing History and LOVE:Centre Daily Times

Barbaro's fight following the breakdown capturing the nation:

On a July night 31 years ago, a nation of horse racing fans fell asleep praying for something divine to happen.

In 1975, hope's last stand didn't even last until dawn.

Ruffian, the filly who showcased perfection unlike any animal before or since, only made it a few hours into what would have been an unprecedented injury repair.

The failure of such a heartfelt effort to save her has haunted a lot of people for a very long time.

When Kentucky Derby winner Barbaro flailed to a halt in the opening yards of last Saturday's Preakness Stakes, the saliency of Ruffian's horrific ordeal resurfaced.

Not since the filly's breakdown three decades ago has there been such widespread attention to the plight of a race horse.

Barbaro and Ruffian, two very different horses from very different eras, have been instantly bound in catastrophe. Saturday night, it was hard not to imagine that the colt's story would end just like the filly's, with a sorrowful pink cocktail in Sunday's predawn hours.

But it didn't.

Somehow, in defiance of every sad reality that racing fans have had to grow up accepting, Barbaro and his human guardians have given us something miraculous to embrace every morning for the past week.

There have been in this sport's history occasional snubs of inevitability, from Your Host to Nureyev to Root Boy -- a few such stories have been unearthed as antihistamine to the sting of Barbaro's misstep and the subsequent rehashing of miseries past. But none were quite like this.

While the early stages of Barbaro's debacle shadowed Ruffian's, what's happened since he emerged from anesthesia Sunday evening has been without historical parallel.

It's not just what's been done for him; it's how it's been done.

Everyone -- from proudly sentimental horse lovers to usually impassive national news outfits -- has been riveted to Barbaro's battle.

The attention is almost perplexing, albeit touching: Why, when our sport usually gets pre-empted by Little League telecasts, when most of America has never even stood near a horse, do so many people suddenly understand how important this animal is?

There isn't really a broad explanation for all the affection and faith poured into Barbaro's recovery -- there are a lot of reasons, different for each of us, that we need this horse to live.

On the simplest level, it's because horses are an enigmatically brilliant species -- no where else can one find such a graceful coexistence of power and innocence. For all their free-spiritedness, they trust us unequivocally, and because of that, we feel responsible for their safekeeping.

But even for people who don't understand that, Barbaro's cause still has draw.

Because he's beautiful, because he's pure, because none of this was his -- or anyone else's -- fault.

Because you can feel the anguish in Roy and Gretchen Jackson's voices whenever they speak, and you can believe without question in their sincerity.

Because Edgar Prado, when he could have let down and bailed out, instead thrust his heels forward and committed every ounce of his 115 pounds to muscling a creature 10 times his weight to a halt.

Because three weeks ago this horse lifted Prado's soul when the jockey was still grieving the loss of his mother to cancer, and no man deserves to have his heart broken twice over.

Because Michael Matz, whose altruism 17 years ago delivered salvation to three terrified children, now needs a miracle of his own.

Because veterinary surgeon Dean Richardson, who makes a scrubsuit look like shining armor, spent six hours Sunday turning osseous rubble into a viable limb -- and afterward still had the poise to address the horse's desperate followers with honesty and tact.

Because of all the folks who have invested sentiment in Barbaro, from Pimlico's emergency crew to the New Bolton Center staff to the thousands of remote well-wishers who have spent the last week clutching good luck charms and pleading with fate.

Because we all need sometimes to believe in the revival of something once thought unsalvageable.

Thirty-one years ago, a lot of people needed to wake up on July 7 and find that Ruffian had bought at least one more day to author a miracle. Instead, they awoke to find that their heroine's chance had slipped away in a padded room, pilfering with it whatever faith they had left.

Nothing can bring back the equine masterpiece that was lost in 1975. But maybe, in a strange way, what Barbaro has endured and thwarted is creating a reason to trust fate again.

For every day that we can wake up and find Barbaro still fighting -- whether it's for one more day, for 20 days, for six months or for 25 years -- a piece of what died beside Ruffian has been restored.

However this ends, Barbaro has brought out in us a spirit that's been absent for a very long time.

Cecily Cairns is a sports writer for the Centre Daily Times. She can be reached at 231-4632 or ccairns@centredaily.com.