LOUISVILLE — From the viewpoint of many Kentuckians, the Breeders Cup Classic came out just about right. By finishing a game second, beaten only a nose, the filly Zenyatta certified her greatness but put an abrupt stop to the absurd hype about her being the best thoroughbred of all time.

Brilliant as she was – nobody goes 19-for-19 without being brilliant – I’m not even ready to say she’s the best filly or mare of all time. I just can’t write off the likes of Winning Colors, Personal Ensign, Ruffian and others. Heck, I’m not even sure that Zenyatta was the best female to run Saturday at Churchill Downs.

By becoming the first horse to win three consecutive Breeders Cup races, all in the Turf Mile, Goldikova delivered the coup de grace that escaped Zenyatta. If the two were to run at a mile on the turf, Zenyatta might get beaten a lot more handily than Blame defeated her in the Classic.

Let’s be clear about this right now: Blame’s victory was no fluke. He was the better horse yesterday. He also gave the world-famous Claiborne Farm of Paris, Ky., a special gift to celebrate the farm’s 100th year of breeding and racing some of the finest runners in the sport’s history.

Unfortunately for Claiborne fans, Blame yesterday ran in the silks of Adele Dilschneider, who owns the colt in partnership with the farm, instead of the bright orange Claiborne silks. But that’s a niggling nitpick about a weekend that generally showcased the sport at its best, which the Breeders Cup was founded to do, but that also had its dark moments.

We got to see a side of Calvin Borel that nobody knew existed until he went absolutely bonkers after the Breeders Cup Marathon. As he came after jockey Javier Castellano in the winner’s circle, Borel’s face was twisted in rage as he screamed obscenities and threatened to kill his fellow rider. It took five minutes and as many handlers to get him cooled down.

It wasn’t the first time Borel has been shut off in a big race, and the stewards punished Castellano by disqualifying his mount from second to last. So where did all that anger come from? The hatred in his eyes was so scary that it’ll be difficult for many to look at him as benignly as they did before the incident.

The whiff of scandal was in the air before and after the Ladies Classic, won by Unrivaled Belle. As the fillies were warming up, ESPN analyst Jerry Bailey conducted what were supposed to be routine remote interviews with the jockeys on the backs of the horses.
When he got to John Velasquez, who was aboard second betting choice Life At Ten, he got a surprise: Velasquez told him the filly was not herself and seemed sluggish. He obviously was concerned.

In the next couple of minutes, Bailey’s colleagues tried to gloss over Velasquez’s concerns and even noted that the filly seemed to be perking up. Wrong. When they came back to Velasquez and asked if she were doing better, the jockey said, “Not really.”

While this was being played out on national TV, bettors continued to plunge their dough on Life at Ten, who went off at $3.80 to $1, second only to favored Blind Luck’s $1.50 to $1 price.

Getting better information than the bettors, the TV audience wouldn’t have been surprised to see Life at Ten scratched. Instead, she went into the gate, broke last, and stayed last the entire trip. Afterward, trainer Todd Pletcher said that he, too, had been concerned with what he saw before the race.

On Saturday, Pletcher said the filly’s lethargy probably was due to a negative reaction to Lasix. Maybe so, maybe not. She had run on Lasix previously with no ill effects. Another possibility, of course, was that somebody had “gotten to” Pletcher’s filly and administered an illegal tranquilizer that could be “masked” by the Lasix.

Understand, this isn’t to say that’s what happened. But I’m also not saying it was beyond the realm of possibility. It would have been nice if ESPN could have gone directly to Life at Ten’s vetererinarian, to see what he knew about what was administered to her before the race.

Except that ESPN had no idea who her vet was. Neither did anybody in the pressbox. Racing commissions and racetracks simply do not hold veterinarians publicly accountable the way they do trainers and jockeys. It’s a loophole in the rules that the sport refuses to address, much less close.

The name of every vet for every horse should be listed in the racing program. If one vet’s horses start showing up with too many positives, he or she could be punished accordingly. At least, it would give the betting public a bit more information about who has access to what horses.

Instead, racing probably will tell the television folks that they no longer can interview jockeys on horseback before a race. Problem solved, right?

Besides Blame and Goldikova, the most impressive winner on Saturday was Uncle Mo, who won the Juvenile by 4 ¼ lengths for Pletcher, Velasquez, and owner Mike Repole. That automatically makes him the early favorite for next year’s Kentucky Derby.
“We’re going to do everything we can to make sure Uncle Mo comes back here in May in great shape,” Pletcher said.

“I am going to get so drunk tonight that I’m not going to worry about May right now,” chilled in a delirious Repole.

Even at that, he couldn’t have been happier than Seth Hancock.

Earlier in the day, Hancock probably tore himself away from the Breeders Cup program long enough to follow Louisville’s 28-20 football victory at Syracuse. He befriended Cardinals’ coach Charlie Strong years ago and was instrumental in helping U of L athletics director Tom Jurich hire him after last season.

The win over the Orangemen – who are not to be confused with the people who work at Claiborne – gave the Cards a 5-4 record and left them needing only more more victory to become eligible for a bowl invitation.

Conversely, you can bet that Strong found a way to keep up with the Breeders Cup Classic. He was shocked years ago when Hancock sought him out to have dinner and had never heard of Claiborne Farm. Today he and Seth lead each other’s fan club.

Blame’s victory also comes at a time when Seth is something of a Hollywood celebrity. As portrayed in the current hit movie Secretariat, Hancock was only a callow youth when he put together the $6.08 syndicate (then a world record) for breeding rights to “Big Red” BEFORE the 1973 Triple Crown.

When Secretariat fulfilled the great expectations the racing world had for him, Hancock probably felt relieved, more than anything. Yesterday, still youthful-looking at 63, he seemed to have the inner satisfaction that comes from doing a hard job well over a long time.

Blame comes from a Claiborne broodmare line that goes back more than 50 years. Three generations of Hancocks were involved in planning the matings that eventually led to Blame. For Seth, Blame’s triumph was vindication of a philosophy, a way of life, that almost has disappeared from the horse business.

“The farm’s been what it’s been for 100 years – it hasn’t changed,” he said. “I’ve been running the farm for 38 years and I’ve been around some really great horses. But we’ve never owned a Horse of the Year, and that’s what I think we own now.”

That should, indeed, be the case, although some Zenyatta loyalists almost surely will try to make the case for the filly whose victory streak generated widespread international interest in the sport. But not until yesterday did she tackle a large field on the dirt made by God instead of the artificial surfaces in California. For the first time ever, she got hit in the face with dirt – and she didn’t like it.

But don’t blame that and don’t blame jockey Mike Smith’s decision to take her far back – too far, his detractors say – in the early part of it. Blame Blame. He was the better horse Saturday. And he deserves praise for bringing some perspective and reality to the Zenyatta story.

The Breeders’ Cup marketing wizards decided to roll the dice and pin their entire pre-program publicity on the big filly. This was unfair to Zenyatta and completely counter to what the Breeders Cup is supposed to be – a championship day of racing with many stars instead of just one.

Had Zenyatta taken a bad step or gotten sick before the race, the Breeders Cup would have had to pull its entire advertising campaign and go to Plan B. They lucked out – she made it to the post in good shape – but it could have been a P.R. disaster.

At the end of the day, the best comment came from Seth Hancock’s sister, Dell, a freelance photographer and former member of the Kentucky State Racing Commission.

“How could it get any better?” she said. “He ran his guts out. And she ran her guts out and he just beat her. It’s history for us and it was going to be history for her, but nobody has any shame. It’s the best it could be.”

Amen.