"I do not do well with imaginations," Anthony Dutrow said one
morning, looking down the shed row at his thoroughbred stars. "I need
the facts. I need the facts; I do not do well with imaginations at
It was after training hours on the backside of Saratoga
Race Course, and the horses were standing there, one in a stall near
the office and one farther down the aisle. They leaned their heads out
over the webbing and peered at the man who spoke of them with
admiration and respect.