The Triple Crown Remains as Elusive as Ever

Big Brown was a big bust at the Belmont. The disappointment hung like a cloud over the track and, one sensed, over just about anyone viewing on television. From the start, he was in an awkward position, as Da' Tara jumped in front and moved to the rail. At one point it appeared that Big Brown made contact with the leader and had to pull back a bit. A move to the outside around the first turn seemed to give Big Brown the position he would need to surge to the front, but the surge never came. As the crowed roared in the hope that the colt would put on a burst of speed around the far turn, Big Brown instead began to fade. Jockey Kent Desormeaux eased up and guided him home at the back of the pack, knowing the "foregone conclusion" of a victory -- so arrogantly proclaimed by trainer Rick Dutrow -- was not to be.

As much as anything, the result confirmed the greatness of the 11 previous Triple Crown winners, along with the realization of how difficult a feat it is to pull off racing's hallowed trifecta. In the 1970s we were spoiled, first by the incomparable Secretariat, then by Seattle Slew and Affirmed. Three Triple Crown winners in one decade. . .and none in the 30 years since. The schedule -- three races in six weeks -- along with the varying distances and track conditions make it a grueling test. And seeing Big Brown simply run out of gas was a testament to how truly great Secretariat was. Just recalling Chic Anderson's famous call of Secretariat's blowout victory at the '73 Belmont ("He is moving like a tremendous machine!") elicits chills. (Watch it here -- it's simply amazing.)

But Big Brown wasn't up to the task, joining the ranks of recent predecessors like Funny Cide and Smarty Jones. Da' Tara won for only the second time in eight starts, a 38-1 long shot stealing the show on a day when racing fans longed for a coronation. Casino Drive, considered earlier in the week to be Brown's biggest threat, was scratched because of a bruise on his left hind foot. Once that news became known, people were expecting to witness history. But it wasn't to be.

It's disappointing, in one way. But folks in the racing game weren't crying. While expressing admiration for Big Brown, few sympathized with Dutrow or his employers, International Equine Acquisitions Holdings. To find out why, read Peter Thomas Fornatale's op-ed piece in Saturday's New York Times.

Are the Indians still playing?

Well, sure. It's just hard to get excited about them, that's all.

One day, they pummel an opponent. The next, they lose. Then they win. Then they lose. And so on. And so on. And so on.

Yesterday they couldn't hold on in a tight game at Detroit. Rafael Betancourt (left), who has been as terrible this year as he was amazing last, erased all doubt by surrendering a late grand slam in an 8-4 loss. Well, thanks, Rafael. The suspense was killing me, anyway.

Step back for a moment and it's easy to see that this season ain't exactly on cruise control. The Tribe's number one starter is 3-8, their number two starter in on the disabled list, and their number three starter, Jake Westbrook, is now out for the season. Their number three hitter, who hasn't exactly been hitting, is on the DL, and their number four hitter has no home runs. Their middle infielders can't decide who's going to hit worse, so their utility man is seemingly always in the lineup.

It's a long season, and nobody's showing signs of running away in the A.L. Central, so the Indians aren't out of it. But it's June, and the team is still stumbling along. Note what Boston did in their recent series with Tampa Bay. They reconfirmed their status as champions and sent the Rays packing with their stingers between their legs. There appear to be no such playground bullies in the Central Division.

Jim McKay

There's little I can add to the volumes of praise that flowed from the sports world and the nation after word came of the death of legendary sportscaster Jim McKay, who died Saturday at the age of 86. He was, quite simply, one of the voices of a generation of sports fans who were drawn to their TV sets in the era of three networks and little else, and he was the defining voice of ABC Sports. Seeing clips of his work being played this weekend, and hearing the sound of his voice, took me, and millions of other fans, back to a simpler time, before the din of noise that is 24 hour televised sports. We eagerly anticipated the stories that McKay would deliver, regardless of the topic, and trusted his sure, steady demeanor. His groundbreaking work on "ABC's Wide World of Sports," and his understated, sobering reporting of the 1972 Olympic tragedies in Munich cemented his reputation as one of the greatest reporters of his time -- and all time. The voices of McKay and Chris Schenkel, his colleague at ABC, were comfortable and reassuring, week after week. They're both gone now, and, with them, our fond memories of a golden age in televised sports.