2020 Kentucky Derby

September 5, 2020

It's the first Saturday in September, and it's time for the Covid19-delayed Kentucky Derby to run. Not only the date for the festival has changed due to the global pandemic, virtually everything that makes it so much fun has changed. No overflowing crowds in the stands and the infield. No derby hats. No Mint Juleps. No party.

It's been twenty-eight years since I saddled my horse Casual Lies to run in the Kentucky Derby. It was the first Saturday in May, the year 1992, and there were record-setting crowds in attendance, or so I was told. It was also the first year that the telecast was going to be aired on Russian television. And it was the year the much touted Arazi was a sure thing to win the 118th running of the Kentucky Derby. Reporters had come from all over the world to report on every breath Arazi took.

The atmosphere was electric, leading up to the big day. The morning of the race was hectic. Barricades had been set up at each barn where a derby horse was stabled. And then it went quiet, and the wait was on for the call to the saddling paddock.

Stanley (as I called Casual Lies) napped with his head over the stall guard. I re-read the same page of the book that I held over and over again, anxiety twisted my gut, making it impossible to concentrate on the written page. It wasn't just the enormity of what we were about to take on. It was the same fear I faced every time that I prepared a horse for a race. More than winning, I wanted my horse to come back from the race in as good a shape as he started it. With so many horses running in one race, the odds of something going wrong were far higher than usual.

Stanley didn't know anything was different. It was just another race day for him. He didn't get any grain at lunch, and his hay bag was taken away. Something that made him cranky. Stanley loved his food.

When the call came, and we readied our horse, nothing could have prepared me for what came next—navigating he gauntlet of noisy fans before we even stepped onto the trap from the backside—the wall of noise that grew with each step that brought us closer to the jam-packed grandstands—the saddling paddock.

My heart pounding so hard, it made it difficult to breathe.

The roar of over 132,000 fans as the starting bell rang!

This year? None of that will happen.

Even so, a fantastic line-up of horses will be coming out of that gate. The lack of a crowd will make it no less impressive for the horse that wins. The thrill of victory for the entire team that takes a foal from frolicking in a pasture to winning the most prestigious three-year-old race in the world will not be dimmed.

Still, the weeks that led up to the Kentucky Derby Festival were what made the whole experience so special. Nobody has enough money to buy that kind of memory.

Each year on the first Saturday as I listen to the first strains of My Old Kentucky Home, I wonder, yet again, how lucky I was to have found that weedy little colt in a Kentucky sale on a snowy day in January. And twenty-eight years later, I still feel blessed to have known and loved the amazing horse he grew into.

Here's to a safe and uneventful race, and may the best team, on the day, win this year's crown.

Shelley Riley - Author of Casual Lies - A Triple Crown Adventure