A jockey’s ‘magic hands’ on verge of conjuring Triple Crown glory

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On the first Saturday in May, nearly 30 degrees in the early evening in south Louisville, Vancouver-based, Mexican-born jockey Mario Gutierrez sat amid a thick of galloping traffic and waited for his moment to strike.

Running from behind on the final turn to the finish of the Kentucky Derby, Mr. Gutierrez led his three-year-old chestnut colt, I'll Have Another, around wide on the far outside of the track. With just 300 yards to the finish line – five-or-so horse lengths behind the wire-to-wire leader and odds-on favourite, Bodemeister – Mr. Gutierrez finally reached for his whip, launching himself and his mount toward an improbable place in the annals of the sport.

Now, a month after his surprise win in the Derby and a similar come-from-behind effort at the Preakness, Mr. Gutierrez stands diminutively on the verge of history. If he wins at New York City's Belmont Park Saturday, he will be the first winner of the Triple Crown since 1978 – and one of its most unlikely champions.

To seize victory, Mr. Gutierrez drew on a strategy he had finely honed at the 113-year-old Hastings Park in east Vancouver, a small bullring of a track many miles from the heart of American horse racing. Race on the outside, stay patient, strike late for wins. He did it again at the Preakness in Baltimore two weeks after the Derby.

But the Belmont is a tremendously difficult race. The distance – a mile-and-a-half – is longer than most thoroughbreds will ever run and the longest track in North America. Critics say Mr. Gutierrez will be "lost" on the main track, nicknamed Big Sandy. For those who believe in fate, however, I'll Have Another has drawn the No. 11 starting post – the second-farthest from the inside rail, just like at the Derby.

The 5-foot-4, 25-year-old Mr. Gutierrez seemed to emerge from nowhere, but had quietly forged his jockeying style during six years at Hastings. What makes him exceptional is his preternatural sense with horses, what those closest to him call his "magic hands."

At a time when the quality of thoroughbreds and horse training has never been greater, a jockey remains the intangible. The great jockeys have something immeasurable: strength, skill and patience that orchestrates victory on the back of a near 600-kilogram animal. Thoroughbreds sense both fear and confidence, making the jockey's power of touch – and his use of the reins as a conduit to the horse's brain –a hard-to-master art.

Few understand this art better than Mr. Gutierrez. When he arrived from Mexico at age 19, Hastings Park offered more money than back home and a chance at a new life – although at a decidedly second-tier venue (at just five-eighths of a mile, less than half the distance of the Kentucky Derby). At Hastings, Mr. Gutierrez has piled up hundreds of wins as he ran his horses wide from the crowd at the rail, waiting until it looked too late to coax a final burst.

Running on the rail – the shortest distance – is often trouble at Hastings, where a rider and horse can get boxed in. Mr. Gutierrez would stay outside, and win on his last kick.

"Riding at Hastings, I learned how to ride tight, look for spots," Mr. Gutierrez said in a telephone interview after the Preakness. "Because it's so small, we really had to pay attention to where we were. It helped me a lot, finding my spot, not getting in trouble in races."

The half-dozen people closest to him in Vancouver say Mr. Gutierrez's talent was obvious from the start. He had the ability to "become part of the horse." He could "sit chilly," waiting, waiting, waiting for his moment. It was his deep feel for his horses, knowing exactly how much they had left to give in a race.

"He would give me goose bumps, how beautiful he would ride," said Sandra van Oostdam, a groomswoman who translated for Mr. Gutierrez when he came to Canada, and gave him a home for a few months. "He's a very quiet rider and you could see how the horses settled for him. It's almost like the horse is waiting for Mario to say, 'Go.' And the horse goes."

Luis Contreras, a fellow Mexican jockey who came north to Canada to work, said Mr. Gutierrez "is very smart to keep his horses out of trouble – that helps a lot. He is quiet and steady on the horse. If you have a clean trip, and confidence in the horse, the horse is going to give you everything."

Mr. Gutierrez has married his magic touch with a savvy sense of where every jockey and horse is on the track – a Wayne Gretzky-like ability to see the big picture. Mr. Gutierrez, who learned English from movies, music and TV, underpins his sense of space and time with diligent research on each of his competitors, both jockey and horse.

On the backstretch of Hastings, early on a midweek morning in June, dozens of vehicles filled the parking lot before the clock hit seven. It was an off day but the stables were active, some riders out on the track for a light canter. Bits of dust mingled in the air, whiffs of manure floated.

Here, Glen Todd has a cramped office at his stables, the largest in Western Canada with more than 100 racehorses (an operation he co-owns with B.C. political insider Patrick Kinsella). Mr. Todd provided Mr. Gutierrez horses to ride but became a mentor, a second father, housing the young jockey for four years until this past fall. Last Christmas, he also made the connections that led to Mr. Gutierrez's shot to ride I'll Have Another.

"To me," Mr. Todd said, "Mario has the best hands since Bill Shoemaker. Horses just ran for him."

Mr. Todd paused. A horse clomped by outside the door. The 65-year-old racing veteran knew it was a very big statement to make. Mr. Shoemaker won the most races of any jockey, nearly 9,000, including 11 Triple Crown races – although never all three in a single year.

"That's my own personal opinion. If you were to ask people who had the best hands, they'd tell you Shoemaker. It's soon going to be Mario Gutierrez."