THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Monday, May 6, 1996 TAG: 9605060175
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Bob Molinaro
LENGTH: Medium: 69 lines
Grindstone it is.
Is what?
Our newest sports celebrity, of course.
And what a refreshing celebrity he is.
Here is one headline-basking sports star that hasn't opted for free-agency and never refers to himself in the third person.
Word has it that he refuses to sign autographs or give interviews. Well, nobody's perfect.
But Grindstone is the least likely superstar to need a bail bondsman. And when he begins siring offspring, it is unlikely any of the mares who date him will sue for child support.
In the two weeks leading up to the Preakness, America also can take heart in the belief that Grindstone is one athlete who does not complain about getting no respect.
As a rite of spring, the Kentucky Derby commands the sort of respect that belies a declining interest in thoroughbred racing.
For a celebration of sport, the Derby is unique. It is a tradition the American people can enjoy without actually knowing anything about horse racing.
To not knowing anything about horse racing, you could add, not caring, and be entirely accurate but for three Saturday's of the year.
Tell Generation Xers that horse racing is the Sport of Kings, and they'll ask, Don or Larry?
Well, sure, until the Summer Olympics roll around every four years, two-legged track stars are every bit as anonymous to the rank-and-file sports fans as the four-legged variety.
The difference is that the Olympics bring out feelings of patriotism, while the Derby brings out the one-time-a-year $2 dollar bettor.
Not knowing a furlong from a fur ball probably does nothing to interfere with a viewers' enjoyment of the action from Churchill Downs. It may even help.
The Derby is a great advertisement for an industry that has been hurt by the proliferation of gambling opportunities, from state lotteries to casinos.
Around the country, horse racing is losing ground - to slot machines and changing tastes. Even the Triple Crown races don't seem as vital to the national sports agenda as they once did.
And yet, in one way, the Derby may be more in sync with post-modern America than ever.
The race over the 1 1/4-mile track provides everything a football or basketball game does - anticipation, plot twists, personalities, upsets - but presents it to a short-attention-span audience in a neat two-minute package.
In two minutes, Wade Boggs might foul off five pitches. But in the 121 seconds it took Grindstone to win by a nose, the Derby served up joy and heartache, cunning and courage. Drama for a microwave society.
The Kentucky Derby may not represent what it once did to a simpler America, but it means enough that, today, Grindstone is a household name far beyond the backstretch.
This business of running a race for the finest 3-year-olds was the inspiration of Lord Derby and Sir Charles Bunbury, who, in 1779, established their brainchild at Epsom Downs, outside of London.
The two men flipped a coin to decide whose name would grace the event. When it came up heads, the race was named after the lucky lord.
Otherwise, Grindstone would be known as the winner of the 122nd Kentucky Bunbury. by CNB