There is Valor in saying No!

LESS THAN FOUR WEEKS TO THE BREEDERS’ CUP.

The news came down yesterday from Barry Irwin at Team Valor that the impressive Champagne Stakes winner U S S Valor will not run in the Breeders’ Cup.

And apparently, the decision has caused some people to lose their minds.

The pitchforks are out.

The axes are sharpened.

The angry mob is gathering outside Team Valor headquarters.

In the case of Frank Scatoni, bless his heart, he has something to say about it.

Frank, after all, is the second fiddle to his partner on those Double Trouble Live Handicapping Videos you can find at @ScatoniSureShot on social media.

My father used to say something in his Napoletan dialect:

“Non ci rompere ci Scatonis...”

Translation:

“Don't break my balls.”

So Frank has that going for him.

Frank isn't a bad egg.

He's more like Humpty Dumpty.

He fell off the wall and landed on his head.

But I actually like the Double Trouble Live shows.

I just happen to like the other guy a little better. Tune in.

ANYWHO...

Let's talk about the horse.

I can understand Barry Irwin's decision.

Actually, I think there is a lot of logic behind it.

Let's backtrack to this past weekend.

Coach Pope.

He was supposed to be a cinch.

In an industry obsessed with numbers, figures, ratings, speed numbers, rankings and algorithms that apparently know everything except when a horse is tired, Coach Pope wasn't supposed to lose.

It was supposed to be a coronation.

It wasn't.

We didn't even pick him on top.

Not because we don't think he's talented.

He is.

The concern was the 21-day turnaround and the fact that it was his third race in less than 60 days.

“He did it easy.”

That's what everybody said after his 12-length win at Churchill Downs.

But cause and effect doesn't work that way.

It was still an effort.

And it was a very fast effort.

Kenny McPeek has never been afraid to run his horses.

Especially young horses.

He will take a horse off a big effort and throw him right back into the fire of a graded stakes race with the Breeders’ Cup or Kentucky Derby sitting out there.

He's fearless about turning a horse around quickly.

Maybe if he looks at his record he would think about it.

Maybe he doesn't.

Maybe he just follows his gut.

That's Kenny.

But in my opinion, that philosophy is right at the top of my list of ways you can ruin a horse.

Now look at U S S Valor.

Three races in roughly the same period as Coach Pope.

And in my opinion, Valor handled it better.

But now, to run in the Breeders’ Cup, he would have to come back inside of four weeks after three races in less than 60 days.

And here's the thing people don't seem to understand:

You don't always know what a race took out of a horse until three weeks later.

The excitement is gone.

The adrenaline is gone.

The medication has worn off.

The horse has had time to tell you what the race actually cost him.

And then you're asking him to go right back into the fire.

Barry didn't see it that way.

He saw it coming down the stretch of the Champagne.

He said he knew right then that he wouldn't run him in the Breeders’ Cup.

Barry said Valor is going to be 16'2, 16'3, a big horse, and that he always thought the horse would be better as a three-year-old.

That tells me something.

He is thinking beyond November.

He's thinking about the horse.

He's thinking about a mature three-year-old frame.

And he's thinking about what happens after the Breeders’ Cup.

Barry said, “I didn't expect anything like this because I thought he would be better as a three-year-old.”

I get it.

And I agree with him.

You can't treat these horses like claimers.

You can't just say, “Jog, jog, jog, we'll freshen him up.”

You have to work them.

You have to add stress.

And when you're dealing with a growing, immature horse, that stress matters.

In Valor's case, he already has 23½ furlongs in those three starts.

That's more than two miles.

He's practically fit for the Adirondack Marathon.

26.2 miles.

Well...

Almost.

But now you're asking him to add another layer of stress.

Get ready for two turns for the first time.

Go an additional sixteenth of a mile.

Do it on a four-week turnaround.

And do it because everybody thinks the Breeders’ Cup is the greatest thing that could possibly happen to the horse, plus an Eclipse on the line

Maybe it is.

Maybe it isn't.

To some people, the Breeders’ Cup is the pinnacle and they will hold it against U S S Valor because of it, their prejudice couldn't be more wrong. They were ready to coronate Coach Pope after one big effort. How did that work out?

The Mount Everest of Thoroughbred racing?

Its getting your horse to be a champion three-year-old, THE Mount Everest of Thorougbred Racing, its like winning a National Championship or March Madness.

But in the long scope of a top Thoroughbred's career, the Breeders’ Cup is just one stop along the journey.

Everybody wants to win the Derby.

Barry Irwin already did it.

Animal Kingdom. 2011.

So Barry doesn't need a Breeders’ Cup appearance to validate anything.

And here's the other thing people constantly forget:

Somebody else owns the horse.

Somebody else manages the investment.

Somebody else writes the checks.

Somebody else is responsible for the horse.

And somehow people think it's simple.

Train.

Run.

Win.

Repeat.

I'd like to manage some of these people's 401(k)s or stock portfolios.

Let's see how far that gets me.

“Hey, Bruno, why didn't you buy this stock?”

“Why didn't you sell that one?”

“Why aren't you putting all your money into what everybody else is buying?”

That's what people do with horses.

They want to manage somebody else's investment.

With my own stock, we take our time.

We don't chase every trend.

We don't care what everybody else is doing.

We move at our speed.

That's how it should be with horses.

Because too many horses are ruined by somebody's whim.

Some owner decides, “We're running at Saratoga.”

Come hell or high water.

The horse has to run at the Spa.

Why?

Because somebody wants that picture in the gold-plated Louvre of the Saratoga winners' circle.

Put the horse first.

Always.

Not the picture.

Not the Breeders’ Cup.

Not the Eclipse Award.

Not Twitter.

Not the owner's ego.

The horse.

Valor would have to come back four weeks after three races in less than 60 days.

Look what happened with Coach Pope.

He failed.

Some people blame the speed duel.

Maybe.

But the speed duel was, in part, a product of the quick turnaround.

That's racing.

That's cause and effect.

And this is where I'll leave it.

I've spent the last 14 years posting opinions, observations, handicapping thoughts and general nonsense on social media.

I'm done.

I've officially hung up the keyboard.

I'm done with the social-media bravado.

I'm done with the endless list of idiots and dipshits who can't tie their own shoelaces but somehow have an expert opinion on everything.

I'm not disappearing.

I'm just changing where I talk.

You want information?

I'll retweet it.

I'll post scratches.

I'll post what's useful.

But the commentary?

The opinions?

Dipshits rejoicing.

The things I actually want to say?

You'll find them here.

In these blog posts.

Because I'm tired of yelling into the digital asylum.

And besides...

I'd rather spend my time watching the horses.

They usually make more sense than the people.

Get tied on.