“No daddy, you’re not reading the story right.”
Those were the words of my 4-year-old son, reacting to the various little changes I would made, just to see if he would notice, and also because it was funny to play around with the story. My wife would always yell at me. I would stick to the story verbatim, at least for a while. Then it would be bedtime, at least according to us but never to my son. “Five more minutes, please daddy?” I could never resist, and this routine often went on for an hour before my wife firmly intervened.
This was back in a time when Vietnam and leisure suits were hot items. I remember the wide ties. There’s an old photo of me dressed to the hilt – I had to laugh. For the record, I was one of the last to wear leisure suits, which might tell you something about my sense of fashion. Anyhow, we were living in a garden apartment, which I thought was odd because there weren’t any gardens. Later, we moved in with my in-laws; a kind gesture on their part to help us save for a house. Try living with your in-laws and you’ll see how fast you can save.
I will never forget the day we moved into the new house. My brother and I had a date with destiny that afternoon, so we started the move at five a.m. I rented a fairly large truck, maybe too large because one of my first maneuvers crushed a neighbor’s car, which proved costly. Still, we moved at lightening speed, getting everything from Whitestone to Uniondale, Long Island, and by 10, we were finished. There was some discussion about unpacking, but my brother and I had a much higher priority. We were off to Elmont, the home of Belmont Park, to see the first Triple Crown winner since the great Citation 25 years earlier. His name was Secretariat.
Long before the race, we had a conversation about horses and their names, and we concluded that the great ones all had great names, like Man O’ War, Damascus and Bold Ruler, who just happened to be Secretariat’s sire. You never saw names like Turtle Head or Knucklehead Smith among the greats. On this day, we had Twice A Prince, Our Native, Sham and of course, what name sounded better than Secretariat?
What we witnessed that day was an athletic performance that would never be equaled. From start to finish, the scene was surreal. The dead silence of the crowd at the start, the break from the gate as Secretariat shot forward like a bullet, with Sham at his side, the two of them seemingly out-of-control, running the first three quarters of a mile faster than most top-echelon sprinters. This was a mile-and-one-half race, a test of stamina, not speed. It was understandable when Sham dropped out of it right there at the three-quarter mile mark. It was astonishingly impossible when Secretariat accelerated with obvious ease. Alone in the homestretch, 70,000 people stood and rooted him on, even though there was no race. At the finish line, Secretariat was 31 lengths ahead of his nearest competitor. Great athletic performances are impressive. This one was staggering in the enormity of Secretariat’s accomplishment. Even the great champion Jack Nicklaus admitted that he cried when he saw it on television.
This was the kind of brilliance that brought tears to the eyes of millions. It was unique. And for a time, people forgot about Vietnam. We had a badly needed hero that just happened to be a racehorse.
We need heroes these days. There is too much unhappiness and distress in the world. Sadly, we are at a shortage of heroic types and we have too many villains. There will likely never be another hero like Secretariat. The fantasy is compelling, though, and every year at this time comparisons are made. Tomorrow, Big Brown will attempt to win the Triple Crown for the first time since Affirmed did it 30 years ago. His trainer, Richard Dutrow Jr. says that if Big Brown wins the Belmont, he will be ranked right next to Secretariat. Inarguably, Big Brown is the most impressive racehorse we have seen since Secretariat, but head-to-head, there is no comparison.
So far, his running times in the Kentucky Derby and Preakness leave him a distant second, 35 lengths behind Secretariat. My guess, if he is on his game, is that he will cover the Belmont Stakes distance in roughly 2:28. Secretariat ran the race in 2:24, passing the mile-and-one-quarter pole in 1:59 and 4/5 seconds. He still had a quarter of a mile to run. Big Brown ran the one-and-one-quarter mile Kentucky Derby in 2:01 and 4/5 seconds – nine lengths slower than Secretariat’s internal fractional time in the Belmont. Comparing final times, assuming my guess is correct, Big Brown will come up 20 lengths short. And let me tell you, Big Brown is one heckuva racehorse. Can you imagine another racehorse that could make him look like a plow horse?
Our hero may never arrive, but hopefully we all have our own heroes, whether they are husbands, wives, sons or daughters. Mine is the same as always – my son, Michael. Now an assistant U.S. attorney in Seattle, he is forging his own name into history, in his own way, trying his very best to topple arrogance and greed using the law, not a gun, to accomplish his ends. In my mind, he will always be beautiful and in the recesses of my memory, I can still hear him laugh and see the smile on his face when I would come home and he would jump into my arms. Those little words, “Daddy, daddy,” still ring loud.
Maybe as a country, we are all missing the point collectively. Our miracles are with us every day in our own homes. Our heroes are the ones who have sacrificed their wants for a greater need, the need of a child for love and guidance. It’s a heavy load to bear, but we sure have plenty of people shouldering the weight. It’s time to remind ourselves what’s truly important.