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By GWEN KNAPP
San Francisco Chronicle
Tuesday, May 15, 2007

The Tour de France champion chewed gum quietly and laughed frequently as he listened to lawyers and scientists talk endlessly about peaks that bore little resemblance to the Alps. They debated the graphs of urine-test results that placed the champ, Floyd Landis, at a defense table Monday, wearing a yellow necktie loaded with symbolism at the start of his 10-day legal fight to keep the world's most famous yellow jersey.

Landis' explanations have evolved considerably in the nine months since a Paris lab found synthetic testosterone in his drug test from Stage 17 of the Tour. What started as "It must have been the Jack Daniels I drank the night before" is now "The chromatograph was on the fritz."

For his arduous arbitration hearing at Pepperdine Law School, Landis has put together a multifaceted defense, overflowing with complaints about drug-testing policies here and abroad. His legal team should have streamlined the case, building a reasonable argument around a few points, starting with an error they found in the labeling of a sample, then proceeding to the big mouth of Dick Pound, the pompous chief of the World Anti-Doping Agency.

But Team Landis, like an obsessive athlete, goes to extremes. His advocates are only a few hyperbolic breaths away from accusing his prosecutors at the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency of kidnapping the Lindbergh baby.

"This case is an utter disaster _ the disaster of the anti-doping movement," his lead attorney, Maurice Suh, said in his opening statement. "Such a disaster doesn't result from one or two things going on. It results from many things going on, all at the same time."

He took a roundhouse swing at Pound, reminding the three arbitrators of a typically impolitic comment the WADA chief made about Landis' testosterone levels at the Tour: "You'd think he'd be violating every virgin within 100 miles."

Suh moved into high dudgeon here. "First of all, it's offensive to his wife, who's seated here in the courtroom, who took a lot of pride in her husband's victory," he said, gesturing to Amber Landis in the first row. "Second," he said, pointing to the couple next to her, "to his family."

Landis' parents, Paul and Arlene, had traveled from their home in Pennsylvania Dutch country, his mother in traditional Mennonite dress with her hair wrapped in a bun and tucked into a white cap. Landis' family has been a rallying point for many of his fans, those who find it hard to believe that a strict religious upbringing could yield a cheater and a liar.

That opinion was, for a time at least, shared by the famous person listed as a witness for the prosecution. Greg LeMond, a three-time winner of the Tour de France and the first American champion, said by cell phone that he probably will testify Thursday. When Landis' positive test was announced last summer, LeMond publicly called on him to tell the whole truth. LeMond also said he spoke with Landis twice over the phone.

"I like Floyd. I feel there's a moral compass in him," LeMond told the San Diego Union-Tribune in September, "and he seems to be very sidetracked right now because of the people around him."

The defense has its own cycling legend on the witness list, five-time Tour champion Eddy Merckx, whose son Axel rode on the Phonak team with Landis.

The opening day, however, had no featured performers, merely a pair of scientists supporting the lab's findings. Howard Jacobs, one of Landis' lawyers, seemed to be scoring points against the anti-doping agency's first expert witness, Cedric Shackleton, in knots over the way two sets of number tracked differently from what he had described as the common course.

When Shackleton finally started to explain himself in detail, Jacobs quickly requested a lunch break. It was 11:50 a.m., and the arbitrators demurred.

Suh took over the questioning for the defense and, reviewing different evidence, went after Shackleton as if he were a witness in a murder trial. On several occasions, he interrupted the witness, he repeatedly restated what Shackleton had said incorrectly and then asked him to verify the misstatement. At one point, he cut off Shackleton and finished his sentence for him. The chairman of the arbitration panel, Patrice Brunet, ordered him to stop putting words in the witness' mouth.

During the lunch break, somebody must have hosed down Suh. He was much calmer in the second half of the day.

Landis' defense shouldn't need histrionics, if the anti-doping agencies truly act capriciously, applying rules to the athletes but not to themselves. Suh made that point near the end of his 20-minute opening statement. Brunet interrupted to tell him that he had gone 2 minutes over, but Suh didn't stop. He went on a little longer. His team doesn't know when to quit.

By DAN WOLKEN
Scripps Howard News Service
Tuesday, May 15, 2007

When University of Houston basketball player Becky Gibson told coach Joe Curl she was pregnant last season, his policy was clear.

"The way we handle it, with the blessing of our athletic director, president and senior women's administrator, we kept her as part of the family and will continue until she gets her degree," Curl said. "I've seen the other side of it, where as soon as they couldn't throw it in the basket or defend it, they were gone. I believe that's wrong."

ESPN's "Outside the Lines" on May 6 reported that some female student-athletes had their scholarships taken away or suspended as a result of becoming pregnant.

Three women's basketball coaches at the Conference USA spring meetings, which commenced here Monday, said that pregnancy had impacted their teams.

All three said they would not pull a scholarship from a player who became pregnant and was unable to perform.

"I've seen this -- we dealt with this years ago, not as much recently -- but a female's first thought is, I'll lose my education, I've got to do something about it, and it brings on thoughts of abortions," Southern Methodist University coach Rhonda Rompola said. "And it becomes a very sensitive issue at that point."

When one of her players became pregnant three years ago, University of Texas-El Paso coach Keitha Adams said she worked with the player's family and support system to come up with a solution. That player, Ana Valtierra, sat out a year on a medical red shirt and then returned to the team to finish her basketball career.

"I'm an educator, and I think most of us are in this to help kids," Adams said. "With the majority of situations, your administration, your coaches, your families, people are going to sit down and evaluate things to see, OK, how can we make this work? In some cases, it might not be able to work, but we made it work."

In Memphis' case, Cassandra Harding said she had signed a form with her coach that outlined the circumstances -- including pregnancy -- that would cause a loss or suspension of her scholarship.

Athletic director R.C. Johnson said he saw the ESPN show but acknowledged the issue would be discussed further.

"We're going to look at it, certainly," Johnson said.

Houston's Curl said his decision to keep a pregnant player on scholarship was "a reflection of the common sense of doing the right thing," especially with the financial and emotional struggles that often accompany the situation.

"The player punished herself so much where she made constant comments about letting her team down, letting her coaching staff down," Curl said. "We said, 'No, no, no. You're teaching us a vital lesson we couldn't have learned in a win or loss or tie or a conference championship. What you taught us was that life is more important than any stupid game.' And that's how we pulled her back out of the depression of not being able to play her senior year. I'm really proud of how we handled it."

SMU's Rompola said coaches are often placed in a delicate situation on subjects like safe sex practices that parents of players may not want coaches to talk about.

"What frustrates me is sometimes I don't feel like we can coach our kids because we have to watch what we say, but in reality we're the immediate figure that is there for them," Rompola said. "And if we can't coach our kids or talk to them like they are our own daughters, it makes it very difficult to educate them on topics like this. You really have to tell them to be smart, but what if they ask, 'What does that mean?' "

By BABE WAXPAK
Scripps Howard News Service
Thursday, May 10, 2007

Dear Babe: My father bought a copy of the first issue of Sports Illustrated in 1954, which I now own. It is in good condition and still has all of the baseball cards that were included. -- Charley Gramling, Panama City, Fla.

Lots of folks have first issues. My standard answer is that Internet sales, the discovery of cases of first issues in a Time warehouse and the reprinting of the issue for promotional purposes have had a major impact on the value of these magazines. Today, top value for an "original original'' is $100-$150 and $75 for copies with flaws. In the past, I've noted that the leather-bound issues that came from the warehouse find first sold for $295 and then dropped to $159. The prices of these "found'' issues brought down the value of originals that folks had saved from August 1954. Now, leather-bound copies are selling for $75-$150 on eBay.

In today's marketplace, it's the second issue that is sought after because these have not been reprinted nor have extras been found in any warehouses. While the first issue had a three-page foldout with 27 color repli-cards in the style of 1954 Topps cards, the second issue has three pages of B&W repli-cards featuring New York Yankees. That includes Mickey Mantle, who did not have a Topps card in 1954. A second issue with a mailing label is worth around $150-$200 and one with no label could sell for as much as $300- $350.

Dear Babe: Back in the mid-1960s, Arnold Palmer played a round of golf at the Skokie (Ill.) Country Club. I was a member there and don't know how it came to be (I was only 10), but I carried his bags for nine holes and another boy did it for the second nine. At the end of the round, we tore Palmer's scorecard into our respective halves and he signed each side. -- John Taylor, Decatur, Ga.

The big question is whether Palmer scored his round or if you and your buddy did it for him. Each half is worth $25-$40 if the kids scored it and $100 each if Palmer did it himself, said Mike Breeden, an autograph expert and Tuff Stuff columnist.

Dear Babe: I have 1959 yearbooks for the Giants and Dodgers. -- Bob Brian, South San Francisco

The Dodgers won it all in their second year in L.A. Brian Marren, vice president of acquisitions for www.MastroAuctions.com auctions in Chicago, agreed with my $50-$100 range with the Giants counterpart at $25-$40.

Dear Babe: In 1987 I was fortunate enough to obtain an autographed baseball by "Joltin'' Joe DiMaggio for my mother. Recently, because of a move, she has returned it to me to display in my home. I am more than happy to have it on my mantle. As you can see by the attached photo, it is personalized to her with "Dear Grace.'' -- Steve Payne, Corona, Calif.

Tuff Stuff lists a single-signed DiMaggio at $575. Even though your baseball has a nice, bold signature it is going to have a tough time coming anywhere near that value, because of the personalization. There are plenty of DiMaggio-signed baseballs available with just his name. Further, it appears the signature is not on an official American League ball.

(Send card questions to Babe Waxpak in care of this newspaper, PO Box 492397, Redding, CA 96049-2397 or e-mail babewaxpak(at)redding.com. If possible, include card number, year and brand or a photocopy. Please do not send cards. Babe Waxpak is a feature of The Record Searchlight in Redding, Calif.)

By MIKE STRANGE
Scripps Howard News Service
Friday, May 04, 2007

In the dog world, I've known Rocky, Ralph and Arf.

Cats with whom I've been acquainted include Maggie, Cricket and Benny.

At Churchill Downs, it's never that simple.

One year you meet Smilin Singin Sam. Another year, it's Offlee Wild. Just last May I was introduced to Sweetnorthernsaint.

Thoroughbred racing takes the cake when it comes to elaborate names. Whatever happened to Trigger, Silver and Flicka?

I have no clue which 3-year-old is going to win the 133rd Kentucky Derby on Saturday. Here's hoping it's not Imawildandcrazyguy.

For one thing, it would drive headline writers batty. Mainly, though, it's just not dignified enough to go on a commemorative mint-julep glass with Barbaro, Secretariat and all the other previous winners.

Judging from the wild array of thoroughbred appellations, you'd think anything goes when picking a name. That, however, is not the case.

While the 2007 Derby winner will be determined here on Saturday, his name was determined down the road in Lexington at The Jockey Club.

The Jockey Club is the Library of Congress for horse racing. In a sport where pedigree is everything, breedings, births and names are meticulously registered.

Let's say you have an unnamed yearling you want to race. You can choose a name as convoluted and nonsensical as you like _ but it has to pass muster at The Jockey Club.

"About two-thirds of all name applications are accepted," said TJC spokesman John Cooney, "and a third are rejected.

"We generally check about 65,000 names annually. In 2006, we accepted 44,000, and that includes new names, name changes and reservations."

Reservations? Turns out you can reserve a name for the future.

One reason thoroughbred names are so unusual is that they have to be. At any time, there are roughly 450,000 active names in use, Cooney said. So if you've got horse No. 449,994, you had better come up with something original.

You can't use Secretariat. His name, like all Derby winners and other horses of distinction, is permanently retired. But there is Secretariats Ghost and 25 other active names that include Secretariat in some form.

A less-distinguished horse's name may be recycled in time. American Eagle finished eighth in the 1918 Kentucky Derby. Another American Eagle staggered home 16th in 1944.

Name submissions to The Jockey Club are limited to 18 characters, including spaces. That explains the run-on abominations like this year's Imawildandcrazyguy.

They must pass two tests.

The first is a computer phonetics check to screen out names sounding too similar to others in active use. By far, that's the reason for most rejections.

The second check is human, to rule out names that are vulgar or otherwise controversial.

"Most owners take the responsibility for naming their horse very seriously," Cooney said, "and invest a lot of their own time."

Bloodlines are a common theme. Three of this year's Derby hopefuls _ Storm in May, Stormello and Cowtown Cat _ are grandsons of the popular sire Storm Cat.

Street Sense, one of Saturday's favorites, is the son of Street Cry.

Others in this year's field are more whimsical.

Curlin's namesake was a Kentucky slave who fought in the Civil War. Sam P. is named for a daredevil pilot of the 1930s.

Scat Daddy is owned by James Scatuorchio.

Wood Memorial Stakes winner Nobiz Like Showbiz is owned by the widow of a publisher of Broadway plays.

Tiago is named for the son of Brazilian jazz great Sergio Mendes. He's a half-brother to 2005 Derby winner Giacomo, who was named for the son of rock singer Sting. The owner, in both cases, is music-industry magnet Jerry Moss.

Circular Quay's name comes from a popular area in Sydney Harbor in Australia.

Dominican, the surprise winner of the Blue Grass Stakes, has never been to the Caribbean. His name comes from the order of nuns who run a school in the owner's hometown.

Zangero's name translates to "water master" in Spanish. Presumably, he would fare well on a muddy track.

By CLIFF GUILLIAMS
Scripps Howard News Service
Friday, May 04, 2007

Today's Kentucky Derby story is about modesty.

Trainer Larry Jones' modesty, and for that matter his wife, best friend and assistant trainer Cindy's, too. Unquestionably it's one of their charms.

Maybe it's second only to their superb horsemanship and straightforward, meticulous ability to detail when preparing a horse for a race, regardless of dollar value or worldly acclaim.

Modesty is a solid reason why even the most rabid bettors who exclude Jones' colt Hard Spun from their selections in Saturday's 133rd Derby at Churchill Downs won't be too disturbed if the classy son of Danzig were to bust loose in the 20-horse field and win going away under jockey Mario Pino. A winner in five of six career starts, including the $500,000 Lanes End, Hard Spun is 15-1 and breaks from post position No. 8.

If there is a successor to the five-time Derby winning trainer "Plain" Ben Jones, it is James Larry Jones, a boy who made it the hard way from Hopkinsville, Ky.

Their paths to the Kentucky Derby are different. Yet both formerly were farmers. Resting on both of their brows is an ever-present Stetson.

"Lot of people could have gotten Hard Spun where he is," said Larry Jones. "Good horses make good trainers and good jockeys ..."

Don't buy that humility. Bad trainers ruin good horses. Bad riders get them beat.

Jones is an old-school horseman who's made bad horses win. He did all the work then. Picking their feet, walking them, cleaning stalls and equipment, raking the shed row, setting feed, putting on bandages.

As a kid growing up on the family farm, he dreamed of horses. His first mount was one of his grandfather's mules. In the early 1970s, his first racing experience came with quarter horses. Then in 1979, he bought his first thoroughbred.

Nowadays, with two divisions numbering 60 horses, Jones bases much of his success on purchasing yearlings at modest prices and developing them into valuable runners.

An Ellis mainstay for years, last season he switched his operation to Delaware Park with a more lucrative purse structure. Had that not happened, there'd probably be no Hard Spun in his care.

Owner Rick Porter, a Delaware native, was splitting with former trainer John Servis, a friend of Jones.' Last May, Porter called Jones and made him an offer. Before Larry would take the horses, he asked for and received Servis' approval.

"Call this a blessing," said Larry. "The chances of me having this horse last year were slim and none."

By MAREK WARSZAWSKI
Fresno Bee
Friday, May 04, 2007

If this were the 1860s, the sight of a man on horseback wearing a Confederate Army uniform and brandishing a pistol would be sufficient cause for alarm.

Except it's 2007, and Greg Garcia isn't a Confederate soldier. He just dresses up like one while competing in a rapidly growing equestrian sport called cowboy mounted shooting.

"It's just an outfit, bro," said Garcia, who lives in Half Moon Bay, Calif. "But I am a rebel at heart."

As its name implies, cowboy mounted shooting combines both horsemanship skills and shooting ability. Riders fire blank rounds from .45-caliber single-action revolvers at a sequence of balloon targets arranged in a specific pattern.

In keeping with the Old West theme, competitors are required to use replicas or clones of 19th century revolvers and are encouraged to wear period clothing during matches.

Runs are scored on both time and shooting accuracy. Each cartridge is loaded with black powder. Burning embers expelled from the load rupture the balloons within 15 feet.

"Of course, you've got to do all this on a horse moving at 30 mph," Steve Tiller said. "It's not as easy as you might think."

Tiller is president of the Fresno Stage Robbers, one of more than a dozen cowboy mounted shooting clubs based in California. Recently the Fresno Stage Robbers hosted two single-day events that drew 30 competitors, ranging in age from 18 to 68.

Besides the replica guns and period clothing, participants further get in the spirit by giving themselves aliases.

Garcia, whose handlebar mustache and sideburns go well with his army uniform, is known as The Confederate Kid. Tiller goes by Dewey Demented. Other aliases in action over the weekend included Seamore Dust, Stoney Meadows, J.D. Cowgirl and Spaghetti Joe.

"What's funny is you don't know your friends by their real names," said Gail Rich-Stone of Latrobe, Calif., aka Miss Wylie P. Fox. "You know them only by their aliases."

Some of the costumes are as colorful as the fake names.

Constance Boyd of Livermore, Calif. (aka J.D. Cowgirl) competed in a full-length sage-green dress adorned with laces and ruffles, matching pantaloons, green eel-skin boots and a ponytail hair extension that matched her blonde locks.

"It's all about color coordination," Boyd said. "The froo-froo aspects are half the fun of this sport."

More and more people seem to be joining in.

According to the Cowboy Mounted Shooting Association, an organization that counts 6,000 members nationwide, cowboy mounted shooting is one of the fastest-growing equestrian sports. Most clubs, including the Fresno Stage Robbers, formed during the past decade.

Unlike barrel racing, in which the horse and rider navigate the same course over and over, there is no set pattern to cowboy mounted shooting. The CMSA handbook lists 50 "stages," each with a different arrangement of targets.

Each stage consists of 10 targets marked by five white and five colored balloons. The rider shoots all five white targets, then holsters his first gun while riding to the end of the arena. He then draws his second gun and fires at the five colored balloons, which are usually arranged in a straight line toward the finish line. (For safety reasons, each gun is loaded with only five rounds.)

A typical one-day match consists of four stages, drawn at random that morning.

"The horse has no idea where it's going," Tiller said. "It's a game of confidence between the rider and horse. ... You can practice stages ahead of time, but you never know which ones are going to be in a match."

Runs are timed by two infrared cameras to three decimal places, and one or two hundredths of a second can determine the difference between winning and losing. (Competitors get 5 seconds added to their time for each missed target.)

Participants rode thoroughbreds, quarter horses and Arabians. The breed of horse isn't important. What is important is training it not to get spooked at the sound of gunfire.

Some owners even fit their horses with earplugs.

"You've got to be completely relaxed and at ease while being totally focused on the balloons and completely trusting in the horse," Garcia said. "When everything comes together, it's a beautiful thing."

On the Web: Cowboy Mounted Shooting Association: www.cowboymountedshooting.com

By ALEX MARVEZ
Scripps Howard News Service
Thursday, May 03, 2007

Unfortunately for World Wrestling Entertainment, the title of its latest motion-picture release was far too fitting.

Widely panned by critics, "The Condemned" also was a box-office flop when debuting in theaters. The action-adventure movie starring "Stone Cold" Steve Austin had a $3.8 million opening last weekend to rank ninth among all releases.

"The Condemned" failed to match the opening box-office gross of two other WWE-produced films released within the past year: "The Marine" starring John Cena ($7 million) and "See No Evil" featuring Glenn "Kane" Jacobs ($4.6 million). Ironically, Austin told the Baltimore Sun that he passed on the lead in "The Marine" because he preferred the script of "The Condemned," which cast him as one of 10 prisoners forced to participate in a fight-to-the-death tournament on a reality television show.

"The Condemned" assuredly would have drawn a larger audience if released during Austin's heyday (late 1990s/early 2000s) as grappling's biggest star. But since being forced from the ring in 2003 because of chronic neck problems, the 42-year-old Austin has only made sporadic WWE appearances while trying to forge an acting career.

Ultimately, WWE will recoup much of the $20 million production cost of "The Condemned" through DVD sales and other distribution avenues. But the movie's poor showing doesn't bode well considering Austin is under contract for two more WWE flicks.

Like the ill-fated XFL and World Bodybuilding Federation, "The Condemned" also represents another failure by WWE owner Vince McMahon to find success in a different entertainment genre. McMahon, though, placated his Great Khali-sized ego by making himself the Extreme Championship Wrestling champion on last Sunday's "Backlash" pay-per-view show.

Because the 61-year-old McMahon is such an amusing on-air performer, what will likely be a short-lived title reign could help regenerate interest in ECW (10 p.m. EDT Tuesdays, Sci Fi Network). The 1.4 rating drawn for the April 24 ECW telecast is half of what the show drew upon its Sci Fi debut last June.

McMahon will defend the ECW title this Tuesday against Rob Van Dam in what could be a harbinger of the latter's WWE future. Van Dam has reportedly refused to sign a contract extension and may be headed to rival Total Nonstop Action Wrestling, which makes a loss to McMahon a certainty if "RVD" is on his way out.

X...X...X

WWE's "Smackdown" roster has reportedly suffered a major blow with champion The Undertaker being diagnosed with a torn biceps. To his credit, The 'Taker gutted his way through a "Last Man Standing" "Backlash" match against Batista, who now appears set to recapture the title he lost last month at Wrestlemania 23.

Two other "Smackdown" headliners, Booker T and Rey Mysterio, are already out of action after undergoing knee surgeries. Bobby Lashley, who lost the ECW title to McMahon, has a rotator cuff injury but isn't expected to need surgery at this time, according to the promotion's Web site.

X...X...X

Questions and answers

Q: Whatever happened to Tommy "Wildfire" Rich and "Wildcat" Wendell Cooley? _ Gloria Parker, Dothan, Ala.

A: Rich, who had a four-day reign as National Wrestling Alliance champion in 1981, remains active on the Southern independent circuit like his cousin Johnny Rich. The site www.obsessedwithwrestling.com reports that Cooley, a star in Alabama-based Continental Championship Wrestling during the 1980s, now works at a Navy base in his hometown of Milton, Fla.

(More wrestling news can be found at www.wrestlingobserver.com. Questions can be sent to Alex Marvez c/o the South Florida Sun-Sentinel, 200 E. Las Olas Blvd., Fort Lauderdale, Fla. 33301, or e-mailed to amarvez@sun-sentinel.com. Please include your full name and city of residence. Because of volume, no phone calls will be accepted and letters will not receive a written reply.)

By CLIFF GUILLIAMS
Scripps Howard News Service
Thursday, May 03, 2007

Seventeen years.

That's how much time has passed since trainer Carl Nafzger saddled Unbridled to win Kentucky Derby No. 116 and the Breeders' Cup Classic.

Those magnificent victories capped a storybook, maybe once-in-a-lifetime Eclipse Award-winning year for an ex-cowboy who once made a living riding bulls. It led to a book he wrote titled "Traits of a Winner: The Formula for Developing Thoroughbred Racehorses."

Since then, Nafzger's star-swept profile has glittered at times, but never reached that height on a worldly stage. Perhaps it's because he's his own man, playing the game his way, which is removed from the hustle and bustle, high-dollar New York and California circuits, where a majority of big timers hang their stable webbings.

"Some might even say I've been underground. Or out of the limelight since Unbridled," said Nafzger. "But since then, I've run a horse in the Derby (Vicar 1999) and had a great filly, Banshee Breeze. That daughter of Unbridled was 1998's Eclipse Award-winning 3-year-old filly. Haven't had a real great colt. But we've held our own and won stakes here and there. Might have another world class horse now, though."

Nafzger was referring to Jim Tafel's Street Sense, the colt he'll saddle Saturday in Churchill Downs' 133rd Kentucky Derby. If the probable co-favorite wins, he'd be the first ever to capture the Breeders' Cup Juvenile and Derby. He's facing what some call "a jinx" that's existed since 1985.

"There's no jinx. No black magic or Voodoo to it," said Nafzger. "It's simply an issue of the right horse winning the Juvenile, then handling the preparation that follows combined with mathematics. Figure it this way.

You ask a 2-year-old to beat the best of his generation going 1 1/16 miles in the Breeders'. Then, for the next six months, they have to stay sound, mature and move forward through all the difficulties required in merely getting to the Kentucky Derby.

"Second look at the numbers. The B.C. Juvenile winner is one of approximately 24,000 colts foaled. It boils down to odds. The odds are stacked against you. I think Street Sense has a tremendous chance to buck those odds. He's done everything we've asked him to do."

The road hasn't always been smooth. But whether he's at Arlington, Churchill, Gulfstream Park or Keeneland, you'll find the same, vibrant, upbeat gentleman who gained eternal Derby fame by narrating Unbridled's scintillating stretch run on national television to late owner Frances Genter.

Besides Nafzger's wife, Wanda, the one thing that has been unbendable is Street Sense's owner. Tafel, an 82-year-old retired publisher who now lives in Palm Beach, Fla., has been one of Nafzger's primary clients the past 22 years. When hiring Nafzger in 1985, he mapped out a plan that included breeding, racing and sales.

"He's also the breeder of Street Sense (by Street Cry) and has been extremely successful at each end of the business," said the trainer. "Mr. Tafel has built a strong broodmare band. This colt is proof of it."

So now, Nafzger, 66, finds himself on the threshold of an unprecedented training feat.

Last winter he went out on a limb and told people that Street Sense may be the best he's ever trained.

If he's correct, Nafzger's name will be back in lights, his smiling face on the sports page of every daily paper and on, don't forget, national television.