Why I Love Pat Day

by Jude T. Feld

At the very best, Thoroughbred horse trainers and jockeys tolerate one another. Their relationships, based on co-dependency, are often more volatile than a Hollywood marriage. When a vociferous trainer would bellyache about a bad ride, the late, great Charlie Whittingham, who had once been a jock’s agent, would often remark, “Why do you think they wear size two hats?”

Having trained horses for 20 years, I certainly got my share of bad rides and troubled trips, so when I was offered an antique ashtray, that allows you to flip up a potbellied jockey’s helmet and flick the ashes inside the empty head, I purchased it without hesitation, regardless of the hefty price tag.

Despite my general disdain for riders, there are a few who have given me the thrills of a lifetime. Eddie Delahoussaye provided me with my first victory as a trainer and was also aboard Pewter Grey, my first graded stakes winner. The first time Bill Shoemaker sported my silks, he returned to the winners’ circle – a day I will never forget. Gary Stevens won a lot of races for me and I always felt like I was taking the edge when I put his saddle on my entrant.

The three guys at the top of the all-time winners list, Laffit Pincay, Jr., Russell Baze and Shoe all rode my horses to victory, and I was hoping to add number four to that list, but unfortunately, that will never happen, as Pat Day has announced his retirement.

I only saw Day a little bit until I moved to Kentucky four years ago. He rode a Santa Anita meet one winter and went something like 1 for 90, his only victory coming aboard Marablue Farm’s Proud Birdie. His stakes appearances were few and far between with the Southern California jockey colony so strong for a quarter century. Californians never really warmed up to him and even when simulcasting became the norm, you could here the “Pay Day” curses when he would win again and again in New York, Florida and Kentucky.

Much to my chagrin, I carried the anti-Day bias to Keeneland in the fall of 2001, but witnessing 25 victories during that short meeting changed my mind forever.

Pat Day owned Keeneland. He won 918 races there – the all-time record, 202 victories ahead of his nearest pursuer, Don Brumfield. His closest active “threats” are Earlie Fires with 266 victories and 244 for Craig Perret, who now gets off the couch to ride less than 100 horses a year.

Day has won 95 stakes at the Lexington oval, 42 more than his runnerup Shane Sellers, with Jerry Bailey, who might also be headed to the rocking chair, 47 julep cups behind with 48.

But it wasn’t the wins or the records that made me a Pat Day fan. It was Pat Day.

Racing is a highly charged sport. Everybody wants to win and even in the Grade 1 races, only one horse will get their picture taken as the rest of the field returns to their stalls. When you ride an 8-5 shot who gets beat, the owner, the trainer and the reporters ask, “What happened?” Most of the time, it is evident to the practiced eye, but those that don’t follow the sport seriously depend on the riders for insight.

Among my duties at Keeneland are post-race interviews. I have talked to jocks after thousands of races and not one of them ever blamed themselves for losing – except Pat Day.

“Boy, I rode that one bad,” he once said to me. “I couldn’t have ridden him any worse.”

I’m a big fella and you could have pushed me over with a feather.

Everybody loves a winner and Day is no exception. He always had an articulate description of his mount’s race, win or lose, but he often gave credit to a trainer or stable staff for a job well done, whenever the props were deserved.

Always generous with his time, Day never failed once to accommodate me when a local television station wanted an interview, a radio show was broadcasting live, an out of town reporter was doing a story or a school kid was working on a project, even if he was riding eight or nine.

“Tell him to see me after the fourth,” he’d say. “And if you wouldn’t mind, could you remind me after the third?”

The reason I love Pat Day isn’t because he made my job easier.

Every time the guy would put on the silks and walk into the paddock, he was there to do the best job he could. Was he perfect? No. Did he always give his best effort? Yes. Every time.

Every time, day in, day out, no pun intended, Pat Day would break from the gate and put his horse in a position to win. I have watched countless races and I have never seen a jockey perform so consistently. He gave his best effort every time, whether it was a $10,000 claimer or a $1,000,000 Breeders’ Cup race.

Last fall, ten jockeys rode in the final race, on the Sunday Keeneland gave a calendar away to the fans. The press corps had a busy afternoon and it was almost dark when Keeneland’s director of communications, Jim Williams and I left the press box. When we got to the paddock, there was Pat Day, still signing autographs, at least an hour and a half after he rode the last race, not another jockey in sight.

His best effort, every time. That’s why I love Pat Day.

This entry was posted on Friday, January 14th, 2005 at 6:18 pm and is filed under Featured Articles. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.