In recent weeks, we have had the supposed worst Derby winner ever —
reviled as if he were a pro wrestling villain spitting on the American
flag, this interloper proving by his very existence the dismal state of
American racing — facing off against a super-filly anointed as
Secretariat-in-a-skirt, carrying, evidently, all the hopes of womanhood
for a brighter tomorrow on her broad brown back.