Eclipse Evening Doesn't Need to be a Solemn Affair

The Eclipse Awards dinner will be held Thursday evening, Jan. 25, at The Breakers Hotel in Palm Beach, Fla. There have been 52 previous Eclipse ceremonies—including the Covid killjoy of 2021 by remote control—and this witness to several of them would like to challenge the hosts, presenters, and winners to come up with anything as memorable as these highpoints from the event's colorful past. The dress code for the event has gone from black tie and stiff collar to cocktail party lite. Even so, it could be a costume ball and nothing could ever compete with the white tux, baby blue ruffled shirt, and dress Stetson trainer Julio Canani wore on that January evening in 2005 when Sweet Catomine won the award for champion 2-year-old filly. For that matter, nothing will ever top the dramatic flair delivered by Keeneland's Ted Bassett on stage in Beverly Hills as he paused upon opening the envelope to reveal the name to the 1984 Horse of the Year, which everyone knew was a neck-and-neck battle between 4-year-old Slew o' Gold and 9-year-old John Henry. "Like fine wine..." Bassett said. He did not need to finish. In 2003, again in Beverly Hills, the Farda Amiga table was a slice of Carnival in Rio all night long, finally erupting in a raucous shower of confetti and impromptu samba when their star was announced as champion 3-year-old filly. Those sitting nearby were happily picking glitter from their cheesecake the rest of the night. Long before there was an award for a champion handicapper, intended to acknowledge the vital role of people from outside the rails, Louis Roussel and Ronnie Lamarque deputized the 14-year-old fan Michelle Armstrong to accept their Eclipse Award for Risen Star as champion 3-year-old colt of 1988. Michelle had been to the Kentucky Derby (G1) that year courtesy of the Make-A-Wish Foundation, and she was able to schedule her chemotherapy around a trip to the Belmont Stakes (G1) as well, to visit Risen Star at his barn and witness his romp in the classic. Leukemia took her in 1994, but not before she had made her indelible mark on the Eclipse Awards and the sport. Jack Van Berg swaggered to the stage in 2005 to introduce his pal Dale Baird, who was being honored with a Special Eclipse Award for his career of training more than 9,000 winners. "He's got two speeches," Van Berg said. "A short one and a long one. It will be either 'thank you' or 'thank you very much.'" Baird fooled him with an appreciative remembrance of his long and fruitful career. Two years later, Baird was killed in a multi-vehicle crash while hauling an empty horse trailer. Comedy is hard, but inside jokes are welcomed, as long as they bring a smile from a knowing corner of the crowd. Tom Sanford interrupted partner Bill Spawr in the midst of the trainer's emotional moment dedicated to 2011 male sprint champion Amazombie with, "Wait a minute—there's an inquiry!" The reference was to Amazombie's dicey DQ from victory in the Los Angeles Handicap (G3) which, thank goodness, did not make a difference in the vote. Otherwise, there is a long list of failures among amateurs trying for a laugh in their Eclipse moment. Perry Martin clearly did not heed the warnings, which led to his routine with a silica freshness packet as a prop for a bit that went over like a lead balloon during his receipt of California Chrome's 2016 Horse of the Year trophy at Gulfstream Park. But at least Martin's swing at humor was better intended than the bile spewed by Michael Gill from the stage on receiving the award as outstanding owner of 2005. Gill and his fleet of claimers had led the national owner standings by wins three years running, but this was his first recognition with an Eclipse, much to his frustration. He also had dispersed his stable. "I am going to miss racing," Gill said. "And I think racing is going to miss me back." Later that same evening, Penny Chenery supplied the antidote to Gill's peptic display as she stood before the assembled swells, still very much Secretariat's mom, to accept the Eclipse Award of Merit. As usual, she said all the right things, with the added value of a story meant to be taken to heart, about her experience at the side of her father, Christopher Chenery, while watching their colt Hill Prince lose the 1950 Kentucky Derby. Young Penny was crushed. "I knew he would win," she said. "He was supposed to win. My dad looked at me crying and told me to stop. He said, 'Don't embarrass the horse.'" Access to the Eclipse Awards celebration allows for gadfly writers to wrangle comments not heard from the stage. Guilty as charged. Carl Nafzger, twice a Derby-winning trainer and Hall of Famer, once teamed with actress Kim Delaney at the 2008 event to present awards to Shadwell Stable and Todd Pletcher. Delaney, who won an Emmy for NYPD Blue, went full Hollywood glamour, and the two of them came off like Brangelina at their best. The down home Nafzger was later asked why they seemed to click so well. "She's a very good actress," he replied. The following year, Steve Asmussen broke a four-year Pletcher stranglehold on the award for outstanding trainer. Asked what his future goals might be, Asmussen had the line ready. "I want to be Todd Pletcher when I grow up," he grinned. There was a real Ali-Frazier vibe during the post-rewards moments of the 2010 ceremony, in which Rachel Alexandra had outpolled Zenyatta, 130-99, for 2009 Horse of the Year. The opposing camps—fans included—were bracing for more from the two amazing females, both unbeaten during landmark '09 campaigns, and the good news was that both would stay in training. A confrontation seemed inevitable. "We're gonna be available," said owner Jerry Moss, speaking for the Zenyatta tribe. "And they're available. When they enter, we'll see what they're entering and we'll be alongside them in the gate. That's all there is to it." It never happened, of course. Still, the sentiment was golden. So was Tyler Baze, 18 at the time, reduced to tears over his award as outstanding apprentice jockey of 2000. His idol, Laffit Pincay, presented the trophy, and Baze spent the rest of the evening in a daze, at one point standing alone on a stairway landing of the ornate Saenger Theatre in New Orleans shaking his head and mumbling, "This is so weird." Comedian Tim Conway, a long-suffering racehorse owner, for many years held the title of Most Valuable Host by virtue of his deft, hilarious handling in 1991 of an overserved Bertha Wright heckling her son-in-law, J.T. Lundy, from the audience at the Fairmont Hotel in San Francisco. Conway's title was challenged, however, by 2001 host Kenny Mayne of ESPN, who followed Award of Merit winner Jim McKay to the podium by confessing, "You've just gone from a Hall of Famer to someone who cheated his way through the Connecticut School of Broadcasting." Mayne would try anything to keep things unserious. Earlier that evening, he cut through a layer of underlying tension between Magna Entertainment Corp.'s Frank Stronach and the National Thoroughbred Racing Association, co-sponsor of the Eclipse dinner. Mayne had sent out for some Popeyes chicken—a Louisiana delicacy—and as the generous order was being delivered to the Stronach table, Kenny announced that it was an effort of constructive mediation, trying "to be like Jimmy Carter in the Middle East." Best of luck to all Thursday night. Good luck. Peace out.