Barbaro's grace and fighting spirit has touched us all!

From "Sport's Illustrated"
Natural treasure

Posted: Wednesday July 19, 2006 1:23PM; Updated: Wednesday July 19, 2006 3:31PM

Both Barbaro's triumph at the Kentucky Derby and his struggle for life after breaking his leg in the Preakness have kept us all rapt.

Bill Frakes/SI

You are not alone. The rest of us feel it too -- the need to stop what we're doing and pay attention, at least for a moment, every time we hear Barbaro's name in a news report or see it in a headline.

There is something about this horse and his fight for life that touches us. Every update brings either a sense of dread, that the end has arrived, or of relief, that he just might survive after all.

It surprises you a bit, doesn't it? That you care this much? After all, you really don't know Barbaro. You may be one of the millions of sports fans who had never heard of him before he won the Kentucky Derby in May. Or maybe you first became aware of him when he snapped his right hind leg two weeks later in the Preakness, which led to the laminitis, the painful tissue inflammation that now threatens his life.

But still, you pause when you see his name appear on the ticker across the bottom of your TV screen with a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach, as you fear the worst while you hope for the best.

For a week after his initial injury, The New York Times ran daily updates on his condition. All over the country people kept vigil or put up shrines to Barbaro. When it appeared that the end was near last week, it was the lead story on the nightly sports news broadcasts around the country, just as it was when his condition abruptly improved a few days later.

Why is that? Why has this horse who was just an image on a screen to most of us tapped into our emotions this way? After all, human tragedy takes place every day and most of us simply shake our heads and move on. Even in the toy department of sports, boxers and race car drivers die. Young athletes are cut down in their prime by drive-by shootings or sudden failures of their seemingly perfect bodies. It's odd that a beast, even a magnificent one, draws so much of our concern.

But maybe that's the point. Barbaro isn't human, so he exhibits none of the human failings that disappoint us in our athletes and coaches. He never put his hoof in his mouth like Ozzie Guillen, or fell in love with himself like Terrell Owens. He never held out for more money, stiffed us for an autograph, tangled with the authorities or coasted when he should have been playing hard. In fact, he gave all of himself, competing almost to the point of destruction. How could any fan ask for a more noble competitor?

So we keep a good thought for Barbaro, knowing that he didn't sign up for this. This isn't Ben Roethlisberger paying dearly for a choice he made, not to wear a motorcycle helmet. Barbaro was just dutifully doing what he was bred to do, going where he was guided. He would never have been out there, blazing around the track, if we, in a sense, had not put him there. Perhaps our concern for his well-being is partly out of guilt.

But mostly it is because we know that Barbaro deserved better than this. Competitors who perform so valiantly and so well are supposed to be rewarded, not saddled with life-threatening injury. If there was ever an athlete who had earned a better fate, it is Barbaro. Despite the current optimism from the medical team treating him, there is still no guarantee that this will end well for him.

So don't think you're odd for caring this much about a horse, or for crossing your fingers or saying a little prayer the next time he crosses your mind. Like a horse in full gallop, his mane flying in the wind, it's the most natural thing in the world.

Thanks Kathy for sending this to me.