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4 OReilly in Derbytown Pick Silver Spoon, Our Dad, And Tomy Lee for Best Copy By TOM OREILLY CHURCHILL DOWNS, Louisville, Ky., May 1.— Land Sakes, here it is Derby day an no mint picked. Well, now we can forget all those arithmetical figures and concentrate on the horses. Silver Spoon, Our Dad, Tomy Lee. Thats the way this correspondent picks them. Did I use charts containing weights, times, distances, ages, wind resistance and tracks variance? Of course not. The Derby isnt a table of figures. It is a collection of stories. Im picking them the way I want them to finish. Doesnt everybody else? Im picking them according to story value. If the filly wins itll be the greatest story since — well, Regret. Isnt 44 vears long enough to wait? Ladies always come first at the Derby. Did you know that Derby day is the unofficial occasion for all Louisville ladies to appear in white shoes? The late Joe Palmer told me that. Said the gals observed it just as careful as old time sports who turned up for the baseball opener in sailor straws. So Silver Spoons my sentimental choice to win Saturday. Believe me. Im being gallant, too. I came down here hoping Our Dad would win. Our Dad is the city horse. Other stables may inspire stories of the Texas range, the slopes of California or the Middle Western Plains. Our Dad is strictly a subway strap-hanger-the guys and dolls entry. His owners come from the dear, old sidewalks of New York, where the girls sing "Annie Rooney" and "London Bridges Falling ► Down." Hirsch Jacobs, his great trainer, started out racing pigeons from a city rooftop. Our Dad, bred by him, named for him and owned by his pretty daughter, Patrice, carries the hopes of every horse-playing subway rider from Vancortlandt Park to Coney Island. No man who spent 28 "of the best" scuffling up and down Manhattan for a living could honestly face a mirror if he didnt pull for Our Dad, with little Pete Anderson in the saddle. Petes a native New Yorker, too, and living proof of the fact that you neednt be raised with hay in your socks to learn to ride a horse. Theres a rumor in Yorkville — Petes neighborhood — that the horse came looking for him — his gams are bent so nice. Deserves a Winner Transcending all this, is the odd fact that Jacobs is not only due but deserves a Derby victory. Here is one of the greatest thoroughbred trainers in the world. He has won nearly 3,000 races — more than any other man. He is a "pro" who brings great credit to his profession. He never races horses just for laughs or to "get a badge at thp gate." That is why he raced in the Derby only once before this. He brought Palestinian down here, in 1949, finishing third to Calumets Ponder and John Hay Whitneys Capot. As you can imagine, it takes a truly exceptional trainer to build a racing establishment, such as he has going at Stymie Manor, Maryland, with his own money, while his rivals can lean on millionaire owners. Yet such is the noise of racings rival attractions in New York that the Continued on Page 46 0 OReilly in Derbytown By TOM OREILLY I i Continued from Page 3 D fame of this man is comparatively muffled. After all, if the great Belmont Stakes, isnt as well known to the average American as the Derby, how can you expect one, lone trainer to out-shine his corn-fed competitors? The Jacobs clan are city folk and Im for em. Tomy Lee Im picking strictly because I want to look smart. Tomy Lee is my insurance. After all, if the filly cant handle those colts and Our Dad hasnt quite got it, I want to get one in the money. On Fourth Street, the other night, I heard a fellow just back from the craps game in Covington, make a profound remark. "If a man held a gun to my head, an I had to bet on this Derby," he growled, "I guess Id have to put my money on Tomy Lee. Hes the solid horse." I dont know where this man got his figures but I trust him. In fact my trust reminds me of the late John McNultys comment on the school-teachers who were trying to get Dizzy Dean off the radio, when he was using words like "slud" and "swang" on the radio, in St. Louis. "If a school teacher told me blank won the Derby, that would be a proper english sentence. If a gambler said another horse win it," that would be poor english but Id believe him. I couldnt be sure the school teacher knew what she was talking about." Its an odd thing about some gamblers, I but years ago, at the hunt race meetings, j I met slate bookies who could tell you more I about what was going on in a stable than j the owner. So Im throwing in Tomy Lee, , on the gamblers say-so. Itll be a pretty good story at that if old Frank Childs, his trainer, comes through. That leaves 15 other horses, including such highly regarded steeds as First Landing, Sword Dancer, Dunce, et al, any one of which can beat me. You can use figures if you like. They say the Univac machine split even on the Derby Trial. Im not too I sure about that Univac, though. I hear they have a little Negro boy inside doing the actual picking. Hes the same boy who wrote all of Irving Berlins hit songs. Me, I I bet with my heart. Dont we all? Senti- ment is the key to the Derby. Oh, the sun shines bright . . .
