John Pricci

SARATOGA SPRINGS, N.Y. - With the Kentucky Derby less than a fortnight away, time has come to examine a trusted racetrack axiom, if not challenge its validity flat out: So, does “pace make the race?”

Before resolving this, there’s one truth all handicappers must accept first; that the final time of a race is a function of early pace. That and the notion that both the early fractions and finishing time are needed to measure velocity. The speed-handicapping process then quantifies energy expended when measured against the speed of the racetrack.

If you’ve read with the copious copy generated by the racing press following the running of the Blue Grass Stakes two weeks ago, you know what I’m talking about. Simply stated, race times that lead to the creation of performance figures do not and should not exist in a vacuum.

Times taken at various intervals in a race are all about relationships, one to another. If it weren’t, it would be impossible to reconcile how Grade 1 horses could race seven furlongs in 1:21 1/5 and nine furlongs in 1:51 1/5 on the same program, even on an artificial surface like Polytrack.

Back in the day, racetrackers used the pace/race term to draw Handicapping 101 conclusions: Speed horses that run at a very fast pace tire from their early efforts and victory goes to the late-running competition. In that context, pace didn’t make the race; it made the winner.

With the advent of artificial surfaces, pace has become a hot handicapping topic again and has given impetus to those taking a contextual view. Not even the rankest novice would have expected Dominican to run the distance in a more acceptable 1:49 1/5 off a dawdling six-furlong split of 1:17 1/5. But that was the mid-race fraction of the first ever Blue Grass run on Polytrack.

Clearly, pace did not make the Blue Grass, it made only for the slow final time. After all, Dominican did come from last to win. Last! If the eventual winner comes from last of 20 to win nest Saturday’s Derby 133, you ought to set the over-under six-furlong Derby split somewhere around 1:09 and some change.

Most Derby observers feel that the pace will be nowhere near that fast. Indeed, the talk in many racing chat rooms is that there is no true speed in this Derby. But here it may be wise to recall another truism: “There’s always pace in the Derby.” And with good reason.

At approximately 6 p.m. ET on May 5, 20 wired thoroughbreds wound tighter than they’ve ever been wound before will step on the Churchill Downs track. At that point, the loud speaker system will begin playing what Derby jockeys refer to as: “that song.”

Two minutes later, Stephen Foster’s bluegrass hymn will end and 160,000 julep-quaffing fans will erupt, and the church that is the Derby post parade will transform itself into the brickyard on Memorial Day. Gentlemen, start your thoroughbreds!

And the infield crescendo will begin to build so that by the time Tom Durkin tells America “they’re off,” a handful of the best three-year-olds in training will jack-rabbit from the gate, quarter-horse under the Twin Spires for the first time, and poof: a strong pace is assured.

But who will those runners be?