He just couldn't go the distance

NEW YORK -- It's only a horse race. Why am I so upset?

I did not come here as a neutral. I came here as a fan. I came to heap praise on Smarty Jones, not to bury him. I came to report some new news, not to write the same old same old, pointing out that for the 18th time, and the sixth time in the last eight years, a horse arrived at the Belmont Stakes having won the first two legs of the Triple Crown and left here a nonwinner.

Bummah!

Smarty, Smarty, what went wrong? You went off at 2-5. But it wasn't just the public who loved you. When's the last time we heard crusty trainers such as Bobby Frankel, Nick Zito, and Bob Baffert (weighing in from California) declaring that the Belmont was over before it begun? But they all did just that. Smarty, you were the lock de tutti locks, the ultimate can't-miss horse.

But this was the Belmont, and therein lies the mystique of the Triple Crown. Who breeds a horse to run a mile and a half?

The answer, apparently, is the Marylou Whitney Stables, who matched Grindstone and Dear Birdie to produce Birdstone, winner of the 136th Belmont Stakes. For Smarty Jones, there are no do-overs. You can't be Phil Mickelson. You're only a 3-year-old horse once, and you get only one shot at a Triple Crown. If you don't have it in you to negotiate an arduous mile and a half better than your peers at this Long Island track on the first Saturday in June, you become a historical footnote, just as 17 other thoroughbreds have been before you.

Winning the first two legs of the Triple Crown is a big deal. Many's the career horse person who'd do any number of irrational things to stand in the winner's circle at a Triple Crown event just once (George Steinbrenner, for example). Not everybody gets here. Smarty Jones's trainer, John Servis, was a Triple Crown rookie five weeks ago. Stewart Elliott, Smarty's jockey, had never been a participant and had been a spectator at one Triple Crown race (a Preakness). Otherwise, he's been busy trying to earn a living in racing's equivalent of off-Broadway. Just saddling up a horse for a Triple Crown race is a significant event in the life of the average horse owner, trainer, or jockey.

You hear about what it takes to win a Triple Crown, but until you experience it you just can't know. So as confident as Servis was in his horse the week prior to yesterday's big race (he even went so far as to discuss his horse as being "fated" to win), his enthusiasm was tempered by the reality of the Belmont. "I now understand why the Triple Crown is so tough to win," he said Friday morning. "It's a tough road, real tough."

Now he knows just how tough. Smarty led by 4 lengths at one point and still had the lead with a furlong to go. It's a furlong the Smarty Jones camp will remember forever. "For most Triple Crown threats," said Birdstone trainer Zito, who proved himself to be a poor prophet, "it is the mile and a half, that last little bit." "It's very hard to win," said Elliott. "You have to have a horse that can do just about anything. The hardest part is that mile and a half."These 3-year-olds are asked to run three spirited races within five weeks. They do a mile and a quarter at Churchill Downs on the first Saturday in May. Two weeks later they run a mile and three-16ths at Pimlico. Three weeks after that they run 1 1/2 miles at Belmont. The truth is that no one knows how any horse will react to all this. Since Affirmed won the Triple Crown in 1978, 10 horses have won the Derby and Preakness. The margins by which they have lost at the Belmont have ranged from a nose (Real Quiet in 1998) to 19 1/2 lengths (War Emblem in 2002, after stumbling at the gate). Any way you slice it, this is one very difficult race to win. But Smarty was supposed to do it, period. Smarty had moved into an exalted realm after destroying the field by 11 1/2 lengths at the Preakness. You don't do that at the Preakness. You know what Secretariat's winning margin was at the 1973 Preakness? Two and a half lengths. You can understand why racing aficionados were dazzled by Smarty's performance at the grimy Baltimore track. No one had ever seen anyone win a Preakness by anything approaching 11 1/2 lengths.

America wanted Smarty to win. If the Funny Cide phenomenon was big last year, then the Smarty Jones phenomenon was huge this year. We remain malleable suckers for a good yarn and this one was a classic. You had the original trainer murdered by his stepson. You had the horse ramming into a starting gate and practically maiming himself into the glue factory before it had even run a race. You had the 78-year-old owner in a wheelchair thanks to emphysema and alarming millions of viewers by appearing to keel over after his horse won the Kentucky Derby. You had the horseman lifer trainer getting his first shot at the big time. You had the horse coming from Pennsylvania, not Kentucky or California. You had the horse's size (small) and color (red) and name (catchy).

Then you had the idea that 26 years is long enough to wait for a Triple Crown winner. I can't speak for anyone else but I was just rooting for a little history; that's all. As George C. Scott, in the guise of Gen. George Patton, reminded us more than three decades ago, we Americans love winners. We were embracing the unbeaten Smarty Jones as a certified winner to love.

No offense to Birdstone, but who cares? You spoiled a good story. Your owner, trainer, jockey, and a few stray bettors are happy, but the rest of us had invested in Smarty.

Just go away, Birdstone. You spoiled our day.

Bob Ryan is a Globe columnist. His e-mail address is ryan@globe.com.