In low heels, a black skirt, white blazer, fashionable scarf and hat, Laurie Lukas stepped into the light brown goo of Pimlico Race Course’s dirt track an hour or so after the Preakness Stakes.
Trying to be of assistance, I offered an elbow.
“Can I help you get across this?” I said.
Quietly, she replied, “I’m OK, but I think my husband could use a hand.”
Dressed in jeans, cowboy boots and signature cowboy hat, Hall of Fame trainer D. Wayne Lukas – all 88 years of him – negotiated the same mud as his wife. Fresh from the post-race news conference filled with wit and more than a few jokes, he carried a cane in his right hand and stepped with a blend of care and confidence.
If he needed help, he didn’t let on. And I wasn’t about to ask.
“This is a lot heavier than I thought it was,” he said about 10 steps across. “He got through this, OK?”
Yes he did.
Seize the Grey handled the track – labeled muddy but somewhere south of wet cement – just fine. His trainer and his wife and I managed too, adding a fitting lid to a day of history. Lukas won his first Preakness in 1980, when Codex outran and overpowered Kentucky Derby-G1 winner Genuine Risk. Lukas and his horse were villains that day, denying the filly a second step toward a Triple Crown. I was a freshman at Unionville High School. Forty-four years later, Lukas and Seize the Grey were heroes – mixing self-deprecation and a puncher’s chance with ability and good fortune to create a classic win. It was the seventh Preakness win for Lukas, one behind Bob Baffert’s eight, and the 15th in a Triple Crown race.
To be there was to witness a racing moment.
After getting across the track, Lukas headed up the chute and through Pimlico’s indoor paddock inside a mostly empty grandstand. A young girl stopped Lukas for an autograph. He signed a set of goggles and posed for a photo. An older signature seeker handed Lukas four programs from the day. The trainer signed all four.
Down the ramp, through the doors and left toward the parking lot, the Lukases heard “Congratulations” from several corners but also got a serious, “Watch your step. It’s wet right there” from a security guard who probably didn’t know who won the Preakness. Nobody slipped, and Laurie looked for a ride back to the stakes barn.
“We have a cart coming,” she said. “Or I think we do.”
On cue, Melanie Martin arrived behind the wheel of a golf cart – tears in her eyes. Fifty or so weeks of the year she manages the Maryland Veterinary Group practice at Laurel Park. In mid-May, she oversees Preakness horsemen’s hospitality at Pimlico. All trainers and their staffs matter, but Wayne Lukas is something special.
“I was totally intimidated,” she said of the first time she met him. “He sits on that corner with the hat and all that. You think about what he’s done. He’s been nothing but a gentleman, never an air or an attitude. If anyone had a right to have a little bit of an air it would be him.”
Martin was at Pimlico when Oxbow won the 2013 Preakness for Lukas – suit, no cowboy hat, like in 1980 – and watched Laurie cut the post-race cake that year. She joked about it being practice for a wedding cake. A year later, they were married. Now, the Lukases feel like family.
“They’re so gracious, and have always been that way,” Martin said. “They’re so real and welcoming and thankful for what we do. I was so happy when Seize the Grey won. It feels like he’s my horse, a little bit.”
For all its flaws, old, dilapidated and soon-to-be-demolished Pimlico and its signature race bring pride to Maryland racing. The work of Martin, and countless others, is a big part of it and out-of-town horsemen always go out of their way to mention how welcome they feel when they visit.
Martin loves playing her part, for Hall of Famers like Lukas and the hotwalkers and grooms who care for the horses.
“It’s because of them, that’s why we do it, and the history of this place,” Martin said. “I’m very lucky that I get to do it. It’s a fun week, an exhausting week, but a fun week. It’s very fulfilling and heart-warming. This year, when they won, it was even more.”
