Barbaro's story, told by his jockey

NONFICTION | Prado grieves for a fallen Kentucky Derby winner

So far we've had a half-dozen books and three documentaries about Barbaro, the ill-fated 2006 Kentucky Derby winner. Now with this year's Derby just six days away, we get the view of the man who sat atop the magnificent bay colt through his bittersweet three-year-old campaign, jockey Edgar Prado, in My Guy Barbaro.

While Prado rode Barbaro only five times, including his catastrophic breakdown at the start of the Preakness Stakes, and never worked him in the morning, a touching bond formed between racehorse and reinsman. Prado was in awe of the talent of his first Derby-winning mount, but it was during Barbaro's eight-month struggle for survival that he began to think of the horse in almost human terms.

Prado visited the colt often at the New Bolton animal hospital in Pennsylvania. Prado, who'd probably spent only an hour altogether in Barbaro's presence before the injury, would bring him baby carrots, candy and apples. Depending upon how much pain he was in and his medication level, he'd either perk up when he saw the jockey or glumly stare out of his stall.

Through several major operations to treat his shattered hind leg and the resulting laminitis, the nation seemed transfixed. It was 2006's version of the little girl stuck in the well, but perhaps even more dramatic because we couldn't communicate with the heroic horse.

My Guy Barbaro could have been one of those typically banal "as told to" sports books where the author condescendingly puts words into the jock's mouth. I read John Eisenberg for years when he was a Baltimore Sun columnist and more recently his Native Dancer biography, and I've interviewed Prado after several big races. The author did a good job of capturing the rider's thoughts while adding his own insights. It's the best of both voices.

Prado perhaps identified with Barbaro because he saw his own mother die of cancer several months earlier in his native Peru. The book, told in strict chronological fashion, might have had an upbeat ending after Prado is voted the Eclipse Award as America's top jockey for 2006. But life is seldom so cooperative, and when Barbaro's laminitis worsens in late January 2007, he is euthanized.

Prado's grief seems real, and readers will share it -- then rejoice in the resilience of those who loved Barbaro.