21 hours ago
Remembering D. Wayne Lukas, who could always make me believe
Steve Kornacki catches up with American Promise trainer D. Wayne Lukas ahead of the Kentucky Derby. The two discuss Lukas' love for competition, what drives him at 89 years old and the respect he commands in the sport.
D. Wayne Lukas's reign over the horse racing world reached its zenith just as I became a fan. This was the mid-'90s, when he was his sport's answer to Pat Riley: the stylish suits, the shades, the swagger, the success.
The tear he was on back then may never be matched. Lukas won the Preakness and the Belmont Stakes in 1994, all three Triple Crown races in '95 (with two different horses), and both the Kentucky Derby and Belmont again in '96. Each spring, I'd turn on the television and watch as he'd head to the winner's circle, hoist his latest trophy and vow that the next year he'd have an even stronger hand. He seemed invincible. He had my awe.
And I thought this was just the way it was. That D. Wayne's dominance was something I could simply count on. I was only a teenager, yet to confront the unsentimental realities of life. But he was the king, and kings are made to be dethroned. In no time at all, it seemed, he was being shoved aside for the next big thing.
That was Bob Baffert. He had suits and shades and swagger too, and in 1997 he won his very first Triple Crown race when Silver Charm finished first in the Derby. He took the Preakness too, then fell short in the Belmont. Now Lukas had a rival. And in '98, Baffert did even better, with Real Quiet missing out on the Triple Crown by a matter of inches on a photo finish. Lukas was barely an afterthought in any of this. A narrative was taking hold: Baffert was the future. Lukas was yesterday's news.
All of this set the stage for the magical May that transformed me from a mere admirer into a D. Wayne devotee. Baffert brought a trio of horses to Churchill for the 1999 Derby. A three-peat was on the table. He would have the betting favorite. The spotlight was his.
Lukas did have two runners in. One was Cat Thief, who'd at least run well in a few prep races. The other was a hopeless no-shot named Charismatic, who'd only months earlier been running in claiming races. Lukas talked him up anyway; Charismatic had actually set a record time in the stakes race that qualified hm for the Derby. But unfulfilled hype was getting to be a bigger part of Lukas's reputation.
I was dumb enough to listen, though. More importantly, I was nostalgic enough to believe that the man who'd owned the grandest stage a few years earlier still had it in him. This somehow felt bigger than a horse race, more like a matter of principle. This wasn't about handicapping. It was about not giving in to a world that was telling me it was time to give up on D. Wayne.
Charismatic went off at 31-1. He sat off the pace for most of the race, then made his move turning for home. At the eighth pole, he pushed ahead of Cat Thief. 'Now Lukas is running one-two!' ABC's Dave Johnson exclaimed. And when he held off a last-second blitz from Menifee, it sealed one of the biggest upsets in Derby history. D. Wayne was back.
Then came Baltimore. Loading into the Preakness starting gate, Charismatic was 8-1. The consensus was universal: His Derby win had been a fluke. He was about to be exposed for what he really was. And it sure looked that way as Charismatic made his way up the backstretch in 10th place. But the pace was hot. The leaders started to tire. Charismatic rolled into the far turn, circled the field and never looked back.
On ABC's broadcast, Lukas pumped his fist and strode to winner's circle. Only weeks earlier, there'd been talk of a changing of the guard in the sport. Now he'd be heading to the Belmont with a shot at the Triple Crown. And he'd be doing it with this horse? It all seemed so unlikely, in a way that made everything seem possible.
READ MORE: Legendary trainer D. Wayne Lukas: Audacious, obsessed, unparalleled
For Lukas, it turned out, the Triple Crown wasn't to be, that year or ever. The Belmont was nearly catastrophic. In the final strides, Charismatic was pulled up shortly after the wire. There were bone fractures. But Charismatic was saved (and went on to a long career as a stallion). And in the drama of that Triple Crown season, I had found someone I'd pull for with all my heart for years to come.
Because the world only kept moving forward. And that meant it only kept trying to push Lukas into the past. The deep-pocketed owners who'd bankrolled his operation left the scene. Baffert's star grew brighter. Others like him emerged, some from Lukas's own barn. Age itself became an obstacle. Lukas never did return to that peak he'd reached when I first started following him.
As he reached his 70s and 80s, he accepted some of these limitations but never stopped believing that he could compete at the sport's top level. And amazingly, he managed to do just that more than once – always, it seemed, just as he was being written off yet again. This is what made being his fan such a joy.
Just over a year ago, I went to Baltimore to be part of NBC's coverage of the 2024 Preakness. All the focus was on Mystik Dan, who'd just won the Kentucky Derby. There was a Baffert horse too, coming in from California. And then there was old D. Wayne, all of 88 years old, sending out two of his own.
On the air, I picked one of them, Just Steel. As I watched the race, I focused on him and started to give up somewhere in the far turn. Then I noticed who was leading. It was the same horse who'd been leading from the start. It was Lukas's other horse. Seize the Grey. And I knew instantly: It's now or never. If D. Wayne was ever going to turn back the clock one more time, this was it. For the next 30 seconds, I shouted with everything I had. 'Hold on, Seize the Grey! Hold on!! Hold on!!' He did, and it was the happiest sports moment I've ever experienced.
