Seven Reasons This Is Maryland's Last Preakness [East Coast Bias]

There was a suspicious-looking metal object hanging from what I imagined to be a low-slung underarm holster beneath Woolley's jacket during his post-race victory interview. I'm sure that's not what it was, but I'm not sure that wasn't what it was, if you know what I'm saying. Woolley does seem like the kind of guy who would be packing heat at a Kentucky horse race—but he also seems like the kind of guy who would wear his cellphone on his belt, so I'll stop with the unsupported innuendo now.

However, if he had been carrying a gun at Churchill Downs that would just make him horse racing's all-time renegade bad ass, which would officially vault Mine The Bird into mythical "let's make a sequel to Seabiscuit" territory. Woolley already stood out like a sore thumb in Louisville with his black cowboy hat and blue jeans. His 21-hour horse trailer convoy from New Mexico still has the media salivating and will keep his status as the sport's outlaw secure until Pimlico. He even teased us all for a few hours this morning with his "We don't need no stinkin' Preakness" attitude. This guy MAKES HIS OWN RULES, people!

Of course, he does need the Preakness and no one in their right mind would skip it with a healthy horse. And getting snotty with the post-race interviewer just because he wants to talk about your pickup truck doesn't help. (Your horse was a miracle 50-1 shot, so maybe show a little bit of joy. The announcer calling the race was so confused when Mine That Bird took the lead that he couldn't figure out his name.) Still, there is some potential in a brash Wild West character who thumbs his nose at that those stinking bluebloods, but the window of opportunity is small. If he doesn't show the world something in two weeks, everyone will stop caring real quick. He should bring a gun next time, or better yet ... an authentic Native American with a bow and arrow. That will really show those snobs that he's got some serious balls.

Unlike his poor horse.

Woolley Soaking Up First Derby Experience [BloodHorse]
On to Preakness for Derby winner Mine That Bird [AP]
Mine That Bird won't have much shot at Pimlico [NY Daily News]
Meet America's perfect sports event [Detroit Free Press]

There's no doubt that the antics of Frank Casatelli during last year's Preakness Stakes have captivated the nation. I claimed that Frank's attempt to leap from one portable john to the next was the first such attempt in horse racing history, but a reader then contacted us to try and set the record straight.

Rick,

apropos of nothing, port-a-john jumping first began at the 2007 Kentucky Derby (and probably long before that, who knows). Regardless, these three pictures confirm that my friend Dave's attempt at the port-a-john marathon pre-dates the Preakness stints. One John towards the end collapsed, and a Southern gentleman inside was not entirely pleased about it.

Anyways, after Dave did it in 07, lots of other kids at the Derby joined in. Our friends then tried to carry it on at the Preakness, where I'm told it became a full-fledged phenomenon. But it started (again, to my knowledge) at the 2007 Kentucky Derby when I helped Dave up onto a port-a-john and he cautiously leapt his was to infamy.

Oh, and notice via one pic that he did it barefoot. What a human.

I think I'm going to go ahead and just have this one sentence bronzed:

One John towards the end collapsed, and a Southern gentleman inside was not entirely pleased about it.

Run Dave, you magnificant port-a-john jumping bastard! Run!

Frank did not capture victory in that leap. But as he lay motionless on the grass in the aftermath, being jeered and pelted with beer cans, he did succeed in capturing our hearts.

A reader writes:

I was greatly entertained by today's Preakness Tradition story mostly because the man who unsuccessfully jumped from one port-a-potty to the other is one of my best friends. His name is Frank Casatelli, he's 21 years old and from the New York City area.

I called him to tell him that his picture was plastered all over Deadspin and he loves the idea of being a temporary celebrity for all the wrong reasons. He actually has a history of doing exceptionally retarded things while beligerently drunk, and this case is no different. Luckily, and unbelievably, he wasn't hurt by this jump, and we all laughed for, well, we haven't really stopped laughing.

Frank and some others went to visit a friend at Catholic University for the weekend, and to take part in the glorious shitshow that is the Preakness. Actually, the man hovering over Frank's body wearing shorts and boots and taking a picture is the man they were visiting. His name is Pat. — Andrew

The photo above is from Frank's Facebook page; I'm still waiting to hear from him, so hopefully by Monday we'll have an interview. Until then, please go out this weekend and take a big bite of life, as Frank would do. And I would probably wear a cup.

With Leather had this yesterday, but it's too beautiful not to share with you as well: It's Port-a-John racing, in which you run on top of portable urinals and have beers thrown at you. This is exactly what our parents' wedding was like. This is from the Preakness ... of course.

Port-A-John Racing At The Preakness [With Leather]

When he came out of surgery, Barbaro was lifted by sling and placed on a raft in a pool so he could calmly awake from the anesthetic.

This would not have a calming effect on us.

It's estimated that 375 thoroughbreds die each year in the U.S. due to race-related injuries; more than one per day, in case you thought Barbaro's injury was an anomaly. Also, we've always wondered, what happens to all the thoroughbreds that don't make it? For every Barbaro, there's got to be a hundred or so that are bred, but aren't good enough to race. Horses don't exactly make great house pets. We'd like to think that they're running around in a pasture somewhere, as Robert Redford stops by occasionally to chat with them. But that seems naive. Hmm, horse racing. We're not sure we get it.

Oh, and making signs for horses? We definitely don't understand that. And we don't find this funny, either. Well OK, a little.

Barbaro 'Practically Jogs' After Surgery [MSNBC]
Barbaro Is Not Yet Glue [The Mighty MJD]

Well, that's too bad. When he was pulled up by the jockey, NBC might as well have just cancelled the whole damn thing. The guy who was calling the race sounded one minute like he was an excited child on Christmas morning, and the next, like a divorced man who just learned that his ex-wife was dating OJ Simpson. The whole place turned into a morgue. I think several of the horses are still crying.

As for you winner... hold on, let me look that up. Ah, Bernardini. There's your winner. Bernardini. I'm going to go see if there's anything I can do to console Tom Hammond.

Bernardini wins Preakness [Kentucky.com]