Back To The Future: The Day Citation Beat Man o’ War

When Gulfstream Park staged the “Race of the Century” 56 years ago this spring, 17,300 fans packed the grandstand. They stared out onto a horseless track, where an empty starting gate was parked ceremonially at the 1 1/4 miles position. They rooted, cursed and cheered home their picks.

Not a single person ended up witnessing the race. Yet those in attendance–and a nation of fans who tuned in via the NBC Radio broadcast or read about the outcome in coast-to-coast newspaper coverage–seemed to be in vehement agreement for weeks afterward that the best horse didn't win.

The Race of the Century on Apr. 6, 1968, was a promotional stunt, the sport's first major attempt at using a computer simulation for a form of entertainment. It was also, in part, supposed to serve as a testament to the emerging–even intimidating–power of computing technology.

It might have been a bust on both attempts.

But if your barometer is the old marketing adage “even bad publicity is good publicity,” the event could retrospectively be considered a hit.

Morning Telegraph chart of the 'Race of the Century'

The imagined get-together of 12 of the greatest Thoroughbreds from different eras drew a decent amount of ink and interest in its day, and even today the concept of a “fantasy race” lives on. Every few years now in the 21st Century, as new fan favorites get added to the list of “greats,” the idea of a recreated showdown among epic champions keeps getting dusted off and repeated, powered by whatever latest and greatest technology happens to be in vogue.

In 1968, the entity that made its case for being the pre-eminent prognosticator of America's all-time historical horse race was a British technology team from the University of Liverpool's Department of Computation and Statistical Science.

Several months earlier, a panel of 150 stateside sports writers and broadcasters had been tasked with voting on the 12 luminaries who would line up in the digital starting gate, and they came up with (in eventual randomized post-position order) Count Fleet, Exterminator, Man o' War, War Admiral, Nashua, Citation, Tom Fool, Kelso, Buckpasser, Equipoise, Swaps and Native Dancer.

There was some pre-race griping that the selectors had concentrated too heavily on horses who had competed between 1948 and 1968. Today we would say that a “recency bias” contributed to the lack of better representation from horses who had competed in earlier times.

 

First came the knockout…

In partnering with the British computing team, Gulfstream was riding on the tails of a publicity experiment hatched by boxing promoters and a Miami radio station that had featured a computer-generated “tournament” among heavyweight greats past and present.

That venture had drawn criticism because, somewhat improbably, all the highest-ranked dead boxers and all the Black champs got eliminated via computer, leaving the popular (and white and still-living) Rocky Marciano and Jack Dempsey to slug it out.

Both retired champs were conveniently hired on for promotional purposes. The underdog Marciano scored a surprising “knockout.” Muhammad Ali ended up suing the promoters for $1 million in damages because he claimed his reputation had been tarnished by losing to the ghost of Jim Jeffries.

As columnist Robert Lipsyte explained in the New York Times, not many in the boxing industry seemed concerned that the computerized championship had come off like a badly scripted pro wrestling match. “People within boxing were not terribly exercised about the tournament,” Lipsyte wrote. “They are respectful toward anyone who can come up with a gimmick to make a buck, and are generally tolerant of fixed fights.”

Native Dancer | Coglianese

In racing, presumably, there would not be as much acceptance for outcomes that were more orchestrated than computed.

Britain had already had a brief go at accepting bets on computer-generated racing in 1967, when bookmakers enlisted the help of programmers to stage “The Computer Gold Cup” after a bout of foot-and-mouth disease had shut down real horse racing for 40 days. Punters ended up not clamoring for that sort of action, and with the return of the real thing, simulated racing was cast aside.

It was against this backdrop that Gulfstream supplied the Liverpool team information about the selected horses' class, weight-carrying ability, and overall race records, and in turn the programmers fed that data into the computer. Final and fractional times, point-of-call margins, and winning margins were also included, but the computing team disclosed that those factors would not be given as much emphasis.

It took two full weeks to upload what was essentially past-performance data for a 12-horse field into the machine.

Man o' War's trainer, the then-84-year-old Louis Feustel, openly predicted the star colt who had won 20 of 21 races in the era just after World War I would “gallop” in the 1968 simulation despite the impressive credentials of his rivals.

“I'd have to fear Buckpasser a little. And maybe Citation,” Feustel told the New York Times several days prior to the event. “But Man o' War was the greatest. Even when he was walking or jogging, he wanted to get there first.”

 

Overwhelming fave…

Not many racegoers and turf writers disagreed with Man o' War's trainer. There was no pari-mutuel betting on the race, but Gulfstream had a pick-the-winner contest that offered prizes, and about 50% of the public chose “Big Red.” An estimated 40% of the published picks in the press also had him on top.

Yet some pre-race writeups tried to get inside the “brain” of the computer. Steve Cady of the New York Times took a contrarian approach in his handicapping by noting that despite setting American or world records at five different distances while winning under imposts up to 138 pounds, “An ominous note for Man o' War could be the emphasis placed on class of competition.”

Big Red's competition was practically non-existent late in his 3-year-old season, when he scared most it away and started favored at odds as low as 1-to-100 in six match races and four stakes that attracted only two other starters.

This, Cady reasoned, would count against Man o' War based on what reporters had been told about the computing methodology. The programming blueprint gave more credence to horses from larger foal crops who raced more often against larger fields.

Man o' War was made the (ridiculously high) 4-1 morning-line choice, with Count Fleet, who swept the 1943 Triple Crown, at 5-1, and Citation, the 1948 Triple Crown champ, at 6-1.

All entrants were assigned 126 theoretical pounds, and for the most part, they were “ridden” by the jockeys most associated with their prime performances in real life. The event was scheduled to be run prior to the first live race on Gulfstream's normal Saturday card.

Count Fleet grave marker | Sarah Andrew

When the race went off, the University of Liverpool team transmitted positions and margins to Gulfstream at five-second intervals, and it was the job of press box impresario Joe Tanenbaum to formulate that data into a narrative and call the race over the public address system and for NBC.

There was a gasp of disbelief from the masses facing the empty track when Tanenbaum announced that Braulio Baeza had sent Buckpasser to the lead. Buckpasser had just retired the previous season after being named a champion in all three years he raced, and the crowd would have been well aware that this audacious move was totally contrary to the leggy, elegant colt's standard off-the-pace tactics.

Buckpasser led by a head over Citation, with Man o' War stalking another head behind in third in the early going. Fans staring at the running order on otherwise blank closed-circuit TVs saw little change as the stalkers allowed Buckpasser to open up by two lengths entering the backstretch. The top trio held their same positions past the half-mile marker, but Buckpasser's  leading margin had been sliced in half.

Around the far turn, Citation, the sport's first million-dollar-earner, swooped to the lead and now the main danger was clearly Man o' War, relentless in his pursuit and less than a length behind.

Big Red drove furiously at the smooth, efficient-striding Citation, extending his stride at a point in the race where jockey Clarence Kummer was usually easing him up in a romp. Man o' War loomed within a head 70 yards out, but Citation was emboldened by the challenge, surging under Steve Brooks to edge away by a neck at the wire.

Buckpasser hung on for third, ahead of Exterminator, Kelso, Swaps, Nashua, Tom Fool, War Admiral, Northern Dancer, Equipoise and Count Fleet.

 

Aftermath, and beyond…

An un-bylined New York Times recap reported the results with a tone of incredulity.

“Although no press box handicapper would fault Citation, a number expressed the opinion that 'Man o' War must be spinning in his grave,'” the story stated. “One handicapper who had picked Citation confessed that he believed 'Man o' War would have run all those horses off the track, but when I saw the factors they were considering for the computer, I figured the answer would come out Citation.'”

Even the simulated two-minute winning time for the 10-furlong race came under criticism, with some turf scribes noting that it was a fifth of a second shy of the actual Gulfstream track record established by Citation's lesser-heralded stablemate, Coaltown, who did not even come close to getting voted into the Race of the Century.

Russ Harris of the Miami Herald wrote that “the manner in which the dream race was run created a broad credibility gap between the data machine and oldtime racing fans.”

Citation at Belmont | Horsephotos

Sports columnist Arthur Daley of the New York Times put it this way: “Computers are only as reliable as the information fed them. This one obviously [shuffled] through cards that had been folded, bent, spindled and otherwise mutilated. How else can you explain a front-running whirlwind like Count Fleet lagging all the way and running last? How else can you explain a come-from-behind charger like Buckpasser blithely stepping in front even though he always loafed once he was in the lead?”

Maurice Hymans, the linemaker for the race, agreed. “Buckpasser never went to the front. Can you imagine Count Fleet being outrun to the first turn by Buckpasser? Why did they have to go to England to do this? Don't we have computers in this country?”

Turf writer Sam Engleberg, described by Harris as a renowned speed handicapper, expressed a frustration that would resonate today with horseplayers everywhere.

“They ought to smash the machine,” Engleberg said. “Twenty years after he's dead, I lose a bet on Man o' War.”

Lipsyte, of the New York Times, was still writing about the Race of the Century four months after it occurred, and his column about computers and sports from Aug. 12, 1968, contained profoundly prophetic words about how technology would unfold over the next six decades.

Although Lipsyte did not use the term “sports analytics” that we now hear every day, he aptly predicted it.

“In the future, the matings of Thoroughbred stallions and mares will be completely directed by computerized information, and stroke analysis in golf, play analysis in football, and scoring in ski-jumping will be electronically aided,” Lipsyte wrote. “There is no reason, except money, why professional baseball and football teams could not have elaborate systems designed to pin-point weaknesses and call plays. As long as computers are programmed by human beings, sports can only profit, through increased efficiency and fewer injuries, from electronic coaching aids.”

Yet Lipsyte also warned of the ominous effects of an over-reliance on technology, both inside and outside the world of sports.

“The Machine, you see, will eat anything a man feeds it and will swallow everything,” Lipsyte wrote. “People who are fearful of such things as rifles, projectiles, unsafe automobiles and sharp objects are almost unanimous in their fear of The Machine. They are terrified that their one human characteristic, rational thought, will be borrowed, improved upon, and never returned.”

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Hall of Famer Walter Blum Dies

Hall of Fame jockey and long-time Florida steward Walter Blum died early Thursday, Mar. 14 due to complications of lung disease, announced his son Walter Blum Jr. on social media. He was 89. The story was first reported by the Daily Racing Form (DRF).

The Brooklyn, N.Y. native started his racing career young as a hotwalker before launching into riding in 1953 at 19, and leading the country in wins in both 1963 and 1964. While largely riding in New York and New Jersey, Blum did travel for high-profile rides. Despite having only one Triple Crown series victory–in 1971 when Pass Catcher denied Canonero II the Triple Crown in the Belmont–he'd counted a victory in nearly every major New York stakes, including the Whitney, Frizette, Prioress, Brooklyn, Metropolitan, Test, etc. as well as finding the winner's enclosure in the Santa Anita and Florida Derbys.

He also tallied the notable achievement of beating two equine Hall of Famers when his charges defeated five-time Horse of the Year Kelso and the great Buckpasser. Blum was named the George Woolf Memorial Award winner in 1964 and served as president of The Jockeys' Guild for five years starting in 1969.

Upon retirement from the saddle in 1975, Blum had 4,382 wins from 28,673 starts, and at that time, only four other jockeys could claim more victories. From there, he secured his first tenure as a steward at Atlantic City Race Course before taking the state steward position in Florida in 1978, where he served until his retirement in 2004.

“The world lost a star last night,” said Walter Blum Jr. in his Facebook post. “I love you with all my heart dad. I'm going to miss you so much. I can't believe you're gone. I've lost my best friend.”

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This Side Up: Baaeed News is Good News

I guess the whole point is that ours is a world apart, a sanctuary from the cares of the “real” one. But it still feels unnerving, to see a new cycle of the sales calendar open with such blithe indifference to a wider consensus that the global economy is scrabbling along the top of a precipice.

Both Saratoga and Deauville benefit from a heady atmosphere that might easily induce a perilous incaution when a yearling stands there shimmering on a sale rostrum. But it was ever thus, and the market at both Fasig-Tipton and Arqana exhibited remarkable buoyancy when measured against historic standards.

We know that bloodstock tends to lag somewhat behind other indices of recession, and conceivably this will prove to be some final, decadent flourish before the bulls start to draw in their horns. But it may also turn out, as when bloodstock showed such startling resilience during the pandemic, that the outlook simply looks different to the affluent elite on whom our industry so candidly depends. Inflation may be a bolting mustang; there may be wars and rumors of wars; political discourse may be ever more acrimoniously polarized. None of it seems to matter to these guys.

To be fair, in certain states American investors can increasingly entertain the possibility that their racetrack programs can aspire to something vaguely resembling viability–even if some benighted horsemen appear masochistically determined to erode that equation with their stubborn litigations. But the parallel strength of the market over the water suggests that a lot of people must also be animated by less tangible dividends.

(To listen to this column as a podcast, click the arrow below.)

 

That being so, we must always remember how destructive to our sport is the contamination of bad publicity. No shortage of that, of course, in an average week–and this one has been no different. Equally, however, we must acknowledge our debt to those priceless horses and horsemen that do succeed in capturing the public imagination; to those that intrigue outsiders, and inspire them to enter and contribute to our community, whether as fans and handicappers or as buyers of seven-figure yearlings. And it's also been a week, either side of the ocean, that has magnified those positives.

First and foremost, we have had a fresh reminder of the captivating grandeur within the compass of the Thoroughbred. Raised in distance for the first time, Baaeed (GB) (Sea The Stars {Ire}) also raised his game anew to reach a pantheon lately shared, on European turf, perhaps only by his sire and Frankel (GB) (Galileo {Ire}).

Someone as tediously insistent as me, on the importance of a transatlantic cross-pollination, is hardly going to neglect the opportunity to highlight the way Baaeed's pedigree combines gene pools that have since become disastrously bisected. No fewer than 11 of the 16 contributors to this grass titan's fourth generation were bred in North America. Mr. Prospector is sire not only of Baaeed's fourth dam; but also of his damsire, Kingmambo; and of Miswaki, whose daughter Urban Sea gave us Sea The Stars. And look who's here, as sire of the third dam: the great enigma himself, Arazi!

Galileo, half-brother of Sea the Stars, sire of leading stallion Frankel (GB) | Emma Berry

Sea The Stars, specifically, combines two transatlantic cocktails. Start with his sire Cape Cross (Ire). He's by Green Desert, himself a son of Danzig out of a daughter of Sir Ivor and Courtly Dee; and out of Park Appeal (Ire), whose genes (by Ahonoora (GB) out of a Balidar (GB) mare) are no less evocative of a completely different world. As for Urban Sea, the epoch-making dam of Sea The Stars (and Galileo, of course), she similarly blends a classic American brand (Miswaki was by Mr. Prospector out of a Buckpasser mare) with a mare whose parents both channelled doughty German blood.

Much the same kind of thing happens along Baaeed's bottom line. That Mr. Prospector fourth dam we just mentioned, for instance, is actually out of the British matriarch Height Of Fashion (GB), who was by Bustino (GB) and saturated with other indigenous influences. So, really, can anyone look at Baaeed's pedigree and still understand why most breeders, either side of the Atlantic, no longer want to mix turf and dirt lines?

So much for Baaeed's past. As far as his future is concerned, we must naturally yield to the judgement of those who have brought him this far with such skill. But it must be said that the horse stands in danger of leaving us with the same wistfulness as did Frankel, who similarly spent most of his career beating up proven inferiors at a mile before stepping up in trip only in his penultimate start–and in the same York race that Baaeed won this week. The plan has long been to remain in step with Frankel by also bowing out over 10 furlongs at Ascot, but the door is apparently still ajar to going to the Arc instead.

In declining to run either at Longchamp or at the Breeders' Cup, Frankel was left exposed to the charge that he never went looking for trouble. Suspecting him to be one of the best of all time, everyone was comparing him to specters past–yet he never measured himself against plenty of good ones then alive and well, and available for racetrack competition.

The fact is that Baaeed finished the new trip at York ravenously, and is a full-brother to a Group 1 winner at 12f (and Group winner at 14f). So let's hope that the desire to preserve his immaculate record does not discourage connections of another great horse from exploring the full range of his brilliance.

If a sporting gamble happened to misfire, it wouldn't take a cent off his value. In terms of his legacy, he has nothing to lose and much to gain. And, as we've been saying, there's a wider consideration–one might almost say, a wider obligation–to make this game as engrossing as we can; to showcase charisma, and retrieve the news agenda from the bad guys.

Happily, that is just what is happening at Saratoga this summer, with D. Wayne Lukas back on center stage Saturday with his latest Classic winner squaring up for her decider with Nest (Curlin). Last week we highlighted the way Lukas appears to be reversing the ageing process, as a rejuvenated force in the sales ring as well as on the racetrack. He promptly produced another exciting juvenile in Bourbon Bash (City Of Light), who won his second start by eight lengths and looks eligible to extend his trainer's record of eight wins in the GI Hopeful S.

This is the first foal out of a stakes-winning Violence mare named Buy Sell Hold. Sell or hold is an adequate conundrum for most people right now, trying to read the alarming runes in less singular markets. How long our own marketplace can remain insulated by such unquantifiable factors as horses like Baaeed, and horsemen like Lukas, remains to be seen. But history tells us that we will find out soon enough.

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This Side Up: Using the Full Genetic Orchestra

Though in most respects I only grow older, and no wiser, I do try nowadays not to get so cross about things. If I think people are breeding to the wrong horses, that's their prerogative. It's a difficult game; a still harder business. The Thoroughbred is reliable only as a vehicle of humility. We're all wrong far more often than we're right. And the beauty is that we have a proving ground out there, with a wooden post at the end. If you really are right, and I'm wrong, that's where we can find out.

True, that isn't quite so effective a consolation when so much breeding is predicated on a different proving ground altogether, in the sales ring. But even that unwholesome separation of priorities–by which the most “commercial” sires tend to be the least “proven”–creates an enhanced opportunity. “Don't get mad, get even.” Because some of our most venerable and valuable races are nowadays less competitive, especially in Europe, because the genetic assets required are somehow considered uncommercial.

Even in that unbelievably febrile market at Tattersalls this week, then, it no longer infuriated or depressed me to see significant investment entrusted to some whose principal professional asset is a practised plausibility. I know I have shared with you before how one of these characters once sneered at my polite inquiry whether his extremely wealthy patron might benefit from the invigorations available in American blood. He replied that he had never darkened the doors of Keeneland, and had no intention of doing so. Any fool knew that “over there they are only interested in speed”.

Well, I think we're safe in assuming that this gentleman won't be tuning in to Aqueduct on Saturday, where adolescent horses testing the water for the greatest theater of the American Turf–which, in healthy contrast with his home marketplace, maintains the two-turn pedigree at the forefront of commercial breeding–will be running nine furlongs through a tiring winter surface before they have even reached their third birthdays.

That being so, I wonder how he might account for the transformation achieved in the European Classic Thoroughbred by the winner of the GII Remsen S. in 1963? Northern Dancer clearly founded his transatlantic dynasty on the definitive attribute of the dirt runner: the ability to carry speed. Yet nowadays commercial breeders in Europe reject bloodlines in which the speed-carrying nature of “stamina” is not properly understood, in favor of sires whose mere precocity is, in turn, mistaken for speed.

On the other hand, it's difficult to refute the charge that the American Thoroughbred operates within too narrow a spectrum. While there are extreme tests, from half-mile maidens to the ultimate outlier of the GI Belmont S., those youngsters contesting the Remsen will typically spend the rest of their careers within a very finite range–a furlong or two less, or a furlong more–either side of this test.

Remsen winner Catholic Boy went on to win Grade Is on both dirt and grass | Sarah Andrew

Aficionados of this storied blue-collar circuit rightly cherish To Honor and Serve (Bernardini), who returned the year after his Remsen to win the GI Cigar Mile on the same card. In theory, lasting nine furlongs as a juvenile and then having the speed to win a single-turn mile as a sophomore suggests an impressive range. The Cigar, like its cousin the GI Met Mile, is an optimal speed-carrying test. A more conventional double, as such, would appear to be the one completed in the Cigar by the likes of Congaree (Arazi) and Kodiak Kowboy (Posse), who also won Aqueduct's other (surviving) Grade I prize in the Carter H. Unfortunately neither of that pair, nor To Honor and Serve, proved successful at stud. But the fact is that all their accomplishments were really in the same register.

During the years when Aqueduct hosted the race, the GI Jockey Club Gold Cup was still staged over two miles. When Buckpasser won the 1966 running, it was only 19 days since he had won the Woodward, over 10 furlongs, and in the meantime Eddie Neloy had kept him ticking over with a win over 15. Yet Buckpasser won his next start, the Malibu, over seven! In his juvenile campaign the previous year, moreover, his Hopeful success at Saratoga followed seven starts already between five and six furlongs.

Nashua | Courtesy Keeneland Library

Another Hopeful winner who went on to win the Jockey Club Gold Cup (twice, at Belmont), Nashua, had won over 4.5 furlongs on debut. Yet nowadays I have to get excited by a horse like Omaha Beach (War Front), because he could win Grade Is in the same campaign at six and nine!

Nashua and Buckpasser, of course, both became vital distaff influences: Buckpasser was among the greatest of them all, while daughters of Nashua gave us contrasting influences in Mr. Prospector and Roberto. To me, we simply won't know where to find that kind of bedrock if we no longer measure the full capacity of our elite performers. That doesn't necessarily mean modern horses don't have the same kind of range, though you are entitled to doubt it. But the modern race program and modern trainers together mean that we can only guess.

Performance is the best way we can identify heritable strengths. If breeders are to mix the right shades to achieve some kind of masterpiece on the genetic canvas, they need to see the full palette.

The Remsen would be a wild proposition for any European juvenile expected to operate at similar distances the following spring. (Their closest equivalent, the G1 Criterium de Saint-Cloud over 10 furlongs of mud, is one for the real sloggers.) Yet whoever wins Saturday will be said to show “versatility” if he someday returns to Aqueduct to add the Cigar or even the Carter.

Breeding a Thoroughbred should be like composing a symphony. You can't just rely on the string section: you need the layers and shades and tones provided by brass, wind, percussion. Yet nowadays we not only compose symphonies without that kind of depth. We don't even use the full string section. Commercial breeders confine themselves to the sharp, vivid speed of the violins. Those trying to win big races with homebreds favor the resonance of the cellos and double bass. But the string section owes its richness and balance to the violas, which link and express the best elements on either side.

Okay, so it's no longer realistic to expect people to use the full range of instrumentation, from the flute to the kettledrum, like Nashua or Buckpasser. But let's not make it too easy for that fabulously obtuse compatriot of mine to justify his prejudices, simply because Group 1 prizes in Europe are contested from five furlongs to 20.

Yes, it's great that Essential Quality (Tapit) could win a maiden over six as well as the Belmont. But we know that the former should be within the compass of any elite prospect against overmatched inferiors; and that the latter is nowadays a unique and exotic assignment, only embraced by the handful to whom it is a sufficiently pressing opportunity, and certainly never to be repeated. The rest of his career took place within a distance span of 300 meters.

Flintshire | Sarah Andrew

It's also gratifying that the 2017 Remsen winner, Catholic Boy (More Than Ready), could go on to win Grade Is on both dirt and grass. But we know that the turf section of the orchestra gets very little use from Bluegrass breeders, whose neglect of a stallion as eligible as Flintshire (GB) (Dansili {GB}) this week saw him returned to Europe for a reboot in France.

In the recently published covering stats, Flintshire was revealed to have covered eight mares last spring. EIGHT! This horse retired as the highest earner in the history of the Juddmonte program, and was supplanted only by another from the same family in Enable (GB) (Nathaniel {Ire}). Having maintained top-class acceleration (carrying his speed, turf fashion) to the age of six, he has so far had a single crop of sophomores. These included one that flew into fifth of 19 in the G1 Prix du Jockey Club, while he had a juvenile graded stakes winner at Del Mar only last weekend. The reliably far-sighted farm that welcomed Flintshire to Kentucky said that it was trying to make the Bluegrass “relevant to all marketplaces” once again. Well, good luck with that.

It's almost enough to make me angry. But I remind myself that I'm not doing that any more. If I feel so offended on Flintshire's behalf, then it's up to me to find a way of sending him a mare in Normandy. But please, please, don't make it so easy for that clown to dismiss the American Thoroughbred as a one-trick pony.

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