THOROUGHBRED RACING : A Broken Thumb Isn’t Much for Stevens, Who’s Had Worse

Gary Stevens is thoroughbred racing’s version of the Black Knight in “Monty Python and the Holy Grail.” Hack off his arms and legs and he’d still be scrapping for a fight.

“ ‘Tis only a scratch,” Sir Gary would protest, lifting a horse off his mangled leg. “I’ve had worse!”

From his perch near the top of this year’s leading money riders, Stevens once again has taken time out to continue his ongoing study of the human anatomy, what it can take, and how long it needs to heal.

This time around, it’s a broken thumb, small potatoes compared to previous injuries. During his nearly nine full seasons on the Southern California circuit, the 30-year-old Stevens has broken and separated his right shoulder, torn the ligaments of his right knee, broken an ankle, an elbow and a wrist, and been speared between the eyes by a plastic railing.

And those are just the ones Stevens mentioned.

His most recent crackup occurred 11 days ago, early in the afternoon of a cold Memorial Day at Belmont Park. Stevens was there to ride Bertrando in the $500,000 Metropolitan Mile, but his agent picked up an extra ride in the first race of the day aboard a filly named Tah Tah Teetah, the favorite.

Shortly after the post parade began, Stevens’ filly was spooked by something, spun around and reared. Sensing that his horse was about to go over backward, Stevens bailed out and landed underneath the pony that was accompanying them to the gate.

While Tah Tah Teetah scampered off down the racetrack, the pony did a clog dance on the fallen rider. For 10 seconds or so, Stevens was caught beneath the pony’s legs, tossed around like a rag doll in a spin dryer. Then, just when the ordeal seemed to be over, the pony delivered one last, nasty stomp that caught the jockey flush on the left hand.

“When that much weight comes down on you, you know something has to give,” said Stevens, speaking from considerable experience.

In this case, it was a handful of skin and the bone between the knuckles of his thumb. Stevens described the fracture as running lengthwise, “like you’d split a piece of firewood.”

It takes a lot to keep Stevens out of the saddle. Usually, if he can walk, see and grip the reins, he’ll plow through just about any kind of pain.

“The track doctor absolutely didn’t want me to ride,” Stevens said, referring to Belmont track physician Leo Skolnick. “He had a pretty good idea it was broken.”

Stevens talked his way back, however. He spent the rest of the afternoon icing his hand to limit the swelling. He tested it by riding a simulated race on an exercise contraption. He even popped a couple of aspirin.

“Aw, I don’t think it’s broken,” said jockey Art Madrid as he helped Stevens tape the thumb. “You couldn’t move it otherwise.”

“Don’t be so sure,” said Robbie Davis, standing nearby. “I’ve seen this guy ride with a broken ankle.”

Finally, with the help of a petition signed by fellow riders and a liability waiver required by the track doctor, Stevens got his wish. The good news was that Bertrando ran straight and true and very fast through the first three-quarters of the mile race. The bad news? He lugged in from the head of the stretch, a worst-case scenario as far as Stevens was concerned.

Faced with no choice, the rider mumbled an earthier version of “Oh phooey!” and proceeded to smack Bertrando more than a dozen times with his battered left hand to keep the colt running straight.

“I guess the adrenaline kept me from feeling it for most of the race,” Stevens said. “It’s amazing what $500,000 will do for your tolerance. But afterwards, pulling up, I was in quite a bit of pain. I couldn’t have ridden another.”

Like most professional athletes, jockeys play hurt. The bigger the stakes, the more it takes to keep them down.

Laffit Pincay squeezed a sprained ankle the size of a softball into his boot and went out to win the Hollywood Gold Cup with Super Diamond in 1986. Bill Shoemaker, his knee a rat’s nest of torn cartilage, brought home Very Subtle in the 1987 Santa Ynez. Stevens himself had to ignore the throbbing of a massive blood clot on his lower back the day he won the 1990 Hollywood Starlet aboard Cuddles.

A jockey can suffer from too much macho, of course. Stevens knew he had to perform Memorial Day, bad hand and all, or suffer condemnation for being unfit to ride. Fortunately, Bertrando ran well enough to beat heavily favored Alydeed for second money, and he was beaten far enough by Ibero to take the rider out of the first-place equation.

Last Friday, before heading north to spend some time with his parents in Boise, Ida., Stevens got some good news from Dr. Robert Chandler of the orthopedic clinic run by Dr. Robert Kerlan. Chandler told the rider he was healing so fast he might be able to return within a few weeks.

“He said he could rig me up a splint that will keep the fracture from moving, and give me movement of the thumb,” Stevens said. “After that, it all depends on how much pain I’m in.”

Pain? ‘Tis only a scratch.