The Boss’ Favorite

LOUISVILLE, Ky. — He won three straight races and was fired.

He won four straight races, lost a stakes race, and was fired.

He has been fired by a couple of New York Yankees. He has been fired by a Florida farm manager. He has been fired before a Derby, after a Preakness, by late-night conference call, by the appearance of a trailer early in the morning.

Trainer John Tammaro III was certain he had been hit by everything owner George Steinbrenner could throw at him, until one day, a package arrived at his barn.

Inside was a New York Yankee 1996 World Series championship ring with Tammaro’s name engraved on it.

The horseman laughed and laughed.

“I wear the ring, people ask me what position I played. I tell them I was the catcher,” Tammaro said. “I’m the one that caught all the Boss’ hell.”

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Kill the soft banjo music. Spit out that mint leaf. Enough with My Old Kentucky Spin.

Those who spent Derby week waxing about how invisible George Steinbrenner is just another genteel equine owner have been smoking too much bluegrass.

Those who think today’s race is about a five-horse trainer or a three-hanky Alex or something Noble (Causeway) and (Greater) Good need to take off the blinders.

Today is about sports’ most blustery owner threatening to muck up one of its most beautiful events.

A gentle spring dance turned into a Boss-anova.

Peaceful Churchill Downs transformed into the House That Ruthless Built.

Steinbrenner, owner of baseball’s eternal favorites, the New York Yankees, is also, quite suddenly and somewhat awfully, the owner of today’s Derby favorite, Bellamy Road.

It’s the president of Denny’s buying out your favorite diner. It’s the owner of a Rolls-Royce zipping past you and into your favorite parking space.

C’mon. Does the Boss really have to win this too?

Even though he spent the week in a Tampa office and on Joe Torre’s back, Steinbrenner’s presence was scattered about the backside here Friday like bits of a bad toilet-paper prank.

There was his jockey, Javier Castellano, showing up wearing a Yankee cap and a funny grin.

“I just try to keep the Boss happy,” he said. “He’s tough. He’s spent a lot of money in this business. If things don’t work out, you gotta blame somebody.”

There was his farm manager, Edward Sexton, showing up with bales of rules.

“I call him the Boss, Mr. Steinbrenner, never George,” he said. “Just when you think you get close to him, he pushes you away. That’s how he keeps you doing your job.”

There was his horse’s breeder, Dianne Cotter, showing up with the wide eyes of someone who can’t believe an animal named for a dirt farm road belongs to the curator of the Bronx Zoo.

“I was told that Mr. Steinbrenner was buying the horse. He didn’t ask about the money, he just said, ‘Bring him home,’ ” she said with a giggle.

Steinbrenner has not spoken publicly this week about the horse, his best chance for a Derby victory after five previous failures.

But according to Tammaro, who trained Concerto for Steinbrenner in the 1997 Derby, you can hear others speaking for him.

When trainer Nick Zito says that the Boss doesn’t interfere?

“Any time you talk about George, you have to be very careful what you say,” Tammaro explained. “Lots of people don’t like him, and they’ll try to trick you into saying something bad about him. You have to watch yourself.”

When Zito refuses to brag about Bellamy Road?

“If you tell George that the horse is ready to win, it better win,” Tammaro said. “If it doesn’t, it will be on the trailer the next morning, going to another barn.”

Tammaro once told Steinbrenner that his horse could win a stakes race. It won four consecutive races, lost its first stakes race, and disappeared the next day.

Tammaro once had early success with a horse named Blue Burner, then heard that Yankee Manager Joe Torre and coach Don Zimmer had casually told Steinbrenner it could win the Derby.

“So, just like that, George sent the horse over to Bill Mott,” he said. “He’ll do anything that he thinks will help him win.”

Blue Burner finished 11th in 2002, Steinbrenner’s last Derby appearance.

The Boss’ hot trainer is now the accomplished Zito, to whom he sent Bellamy Road before this season, yanking him away from Michael Dickinson, whose only crime was that he had trained only one Derby horse, which finished ninth.

“To have a horse in the Derby is a special thing ... you have to go with a guy who’s done that,” Sexton said. “[Zito] was the best man.”

And if Bellamy Road falters, well, Zito could be a canned man.

“If you tell Mr. Steinbrenner the sky is going to be green the next morning, and it’s not green, you better explain yourself,” said Sexton, later adding, “George thinks second place is like kissing your sister. We did not come here to finish second.”

Imagine, then, for one moment, George Steinbrenner as the winning owner in the Kentucky Derby.

One particularly uncomfortable moment.

Would it mirror the joy of the small-town dudes who owned Funny Cide? Um, no.

How about the emotion of the infirm gentleman who owned Smarty Jones? Try again.

Given the recent struggles of his baseball team, and one teary display last year after close games against the Boston Red Sox, tough old Steinbrenner would probably cry.

The question is, would the world cry with him?

The answer is, yes, the Run for the Roses hijacked by a guy who will leave us holding the stems.