Well, I’m settled in at Belmont Park after another media madness welcome on Monday, five days after the same routine when I showed up at Pimlico. Don’t get me wrong, I love the attention, but do you think 200 horses would wait in the rain to see a human being walk out of a van?
Saturday was an all-time high for me, getting syndicated in a record stud deal before blowing away those clowns in the Preakness. I don’t like to be obnoxious, but I could have given them a 100-yard head start and lapped them. I can’t believe all the morons who bet on them to beat me. What a dopey species.
I’ll be Horse of the World for the next few weeks, so I have to use my clout. I’m going to pick the mares I’ll be bred to at Three Chimneys, and I’ll use a three-tiered screening process. First, my wonderful Irish mother, exercise rider Michelle Nevin, will check them out for me. Snooty bluebloods need not apply. It’s the personality, not the pedigree, that matters to me. Then I’ll check our compatibility profiles on EquineHarmony.com. Breeding and looks aren’t everything, you know. The ones who vet out will go on my version of “The Dating Game.’’ I’m negotiating with HRTV and TVG for the television rights.
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