Racing needs to turn tragedy into reform

LOUISVILLE, Ky. — In a crowd of 150,000, the declaration of death spread with eerie calm.

They had to put down Eight Belles, someone said, and then another said it and another and another. It felt like an outlandish rumor. It felt like a cruel joke. The Kentucky Derby had ended barely five minutes earlier, the fans were still trying to decipher their exotic bets, and yet tragedy already infiltrated Churchill Downs.

I was standing in the paddock when the news came to our area. It was odd because the word traveled rather peacefully. It wafted to us, and in disbelief, most people reacted with an open-mouthed stare before carrying on as if the Derby had concluded without incident.

That's the modus operandi for horse racing. Even in tragedy, there's only a brief pause for shock and then a return to normal. Change stays in the pocket. Leaders of the sport continue to do what they know, even when logic screams for new ideas.

The habitual stubbornness is gnawing at the sport now.

Despite the well-reasoned contrary arguments that arise when a Thoroughbred dies, the sport isn't barbaric. It isn't a high-class form of animal cruelty. If you spent a week observing the meticulous care of trainers, you'd understand how loved and nurtured these horses are. If you spent a week with jockeys, you'd understand how protective they are of every racehorse they mount.

That said, this sport is walking dangerously along the line between tradition and stupidity. A few more bad steps, and horse racing will jeopardize its status as a sporting attraction.

In the past two Triple Crown races I've attended, Barbaro suffered his fatal injury in the 2006 Preakness Stakes, and Eight Belles lost her life after running the race of her life.

Look even deeper, and you find a chilling statistic: Five horses have died in the past 13 major horse-racing events. For a sport that the general public only watches during Triple Crown races and the Breeders' Cup, this is a horrifying stretch of calamity.

Eight Belles broke her two front ankles, leaving the veterinarians with no realistic options for her long-term health. So he euthanized Eight Belles just minutes after she finished second in the Derby. It was the most improbable conclusion of all, a horse succumbing not during the race but while galloping after crossing the finish line.

They made the right decision under the circumstances, but while defending the sport, he made a foolish comment Saturday, saying, "One death is not an epidemic."

When Thoroughbreds die, veterans of this sport rarely present themselves in the right manner. They come off as callous. They fail to be significantly introspective. I've always been shocked at how unwilling they can be when it comes to selling the sport to a mainstream audience, but in somber moments, they are downright detestable. And it's that perception — not the truth — that could be their undoing.

PETA turned its venom toward Eight Belles' jockey, Gabriel Saez, on Monday, but the anger is misdirected. Horse-racing officials will brush off claims that Saez caused Eight Belles' death, and that's a rightful response. Blaming Saez is a misinformed stance. If PETA really wants to make a statement, it should come down on the sport for some other burdensome issues.

For starters, someone of great influence needs to pressure all racetracks to be more diligent in considering synthetic surfaces, which are proving to be easier on horses' legs. And the breeding system in the United States has become both antiquated and corrupt, and it needs to be policed more effectively.

The sport can no longer be resistant to change. There have been too many high-profile injuries, too many high-profile deaths. In basketball, someone wipes off the court every time there's a wet spot. In football, artificial turfs have been improved to protect players' legs. And usually, these athletes only risk being out a few months if they get injured. A horse must die. Why is horse racing so cavalier about protecting its Thoroughbreds?

We're talking about 1,000-pound animals who run on legs that belong on kitchen tables. It's amazing that the injuries are so few. Over the past few days, the National Thoroughbred Racing Association has been quoting a statistic that says there are only about two fatalities for every 1,000 horses that start a race. Basically, NTRA is telling us that only 0.2 percent of racehorses die, so we should stop fussing.

And then, if we shrug it off, we are prone to laugh at jokes like the one I've heard since Eight Belles went down: You can beat a dead horse.

It's an insensitive, inappropriate joke. The Thoroughbred racing industry would scoff at such a comment. But the truth is, it is enabling the twisted apathy. And if it doesn't do something about it, the sport will become too unbearable for the average fan.

Jerry Brewer: 206-464-2277 or jbrewer@seattletimes.com. For his Extra Points blog, visit www.seattletimes.com/sports.