It’s Sunday morning, Belmont is under a blinding sun and the place is as quiet as it was clamorous just twelve hours earlier. I’m being escorted through a maze of stables and walk past a row of stalls holding anonymous horses. I’d never been this close to a thoroughbred and I’m struck by their gargantuan size. These guys aren’t giving rides to kids at birthday parties. My minder has been quiet. He finally speaks up to tell me we’ve arrived. But I’d figured it out for myself - having spotted the faint star on America Pharoah’s head that I’d seen so many time in pictures. I can feel my heart beating. I was coming face to face with the most famous horse on the planet. Not sure how to introduce myself I instinctively placed my hand under his nose as if he were a Golden Retriever. He didn’t react. I turned on my tape recorder.

Randy Spencer: Congratulations. You must be feeling pretty good this morning?

American Pharoah: I’d be feeling even better if they gave me some oats. Do you have any?

RS: I’m sorry. I don’t. If I had known….

AP: Don’t worry. I’m used to it by now.

RS: What do you mean? I would have expected that they’d be slobbering all over you like Steve Wynn did to Sinatra.

AP: Yeah, you would think. But it just doesn’t work that way. Look at this cramped stall I’m in. I’m sure Ahmed isn’t staying at Motel 6 [Ahmed Zayat -- American Pharoah’s owner]. And they have me sleeping on straw. How ‘bout some sheets? Egyptian cotton seems appropriate.

RS: You’re right. It does look pretty confining in there.

AP: Look, it’s New York. I know that real estate is expensive. But they could have at least given me a TV to watch the Cavs-Warriors series. I need LeBron to go down. He’s the only thing standing between me and Sports Ill. “Sportsman of the Year.” And look at that woman from NBC. She rides right next to me after every race and asks Victor how it went [Victor Espinoza -- American Pharoah’s jockey]. Would it kill her to stick the mic in front of me once in a while? I think I know a little something about how the race went down too.

RS: Well I appreciate you taking the time for me.

AP: You’re the only one who asked. Last night reporters would have given their, well, you know what, to get an interview with Ahmed. Am I missing something here? Was he the one who ran a mile and a half? The last time Ahmed ran it was to a buffet that was getting ready to close.

RS: Really? I’m the only person who put in a request to speak to you? But they gave out hundreds of media credentials for the race.

AP: Just you Spencer. Once the race is over we’re out of sight, out of mind. Even the dog that wins “Best in Show” at Westminster makes the rounds on the morning talk shows the next day.

RS: Is anything else bothering you?

AP: How much tape do you have in that thing? Do you know how much dough Ahmed is making from me? He could buy the friggin’ Sphinx. Me? I got some extra carrots last night.

RS: Yeah, you sure are going to make a lot of money for a lot of people.

AP: You have no idea. Millions. And the prize money is nothing. Wait until they start selling the juice to make little American Pharoahs.

RS: And all you got is extra carrots?

AP: Yep. That’s it. They’d better get me a red silk robe and some slippers like Hef after I get to work back in Kentucky.

RS: Well that doesn’t seem like such a bad life – you know, what’s waiting for you back home.

AP: Sure, there are worse jobs. But I can do more than just charm the ladies. I’m not just some one trick pony. I expect that it won’t be long before Dancing With the Stars comes knocking on the barn door. I suggested getting the Bangles to record “Run Like an Egyptian.” I could be in the video and pull down 20 percent. It was dismissed out of hand.

RS: That does sound like a great idea.

AP: That’s what I thought. But that’s small potatoes for Ahmed. He’s working on a shoe deal that would make Jordan’s look like the proceeds from a kid’s lemonade stand.

RS: This all seems really unfair.

AP: Let me tell you something. Not since Steve Martin made a mint on that moronic King Tut song has an Egyptian been exploited so badly. The NCAA gives student athletes a better deal than they give me here.

[American Pharoah starts looking around. He is looking past me – moving his head in every direction.]

This is unreal. The guy with the oats is still nowhere to be seen. I could order them on Amazon and they’d get here faster.

RS: Is there anything you can do about this situation?

AP: I had a lawyer look into it. He told me it didn’t look good. Then I told him it looked the same about him getting paid.

RS: That’s too bad.

AP: I talked to PETA but they weren’t interested. Sure they love animals – but trying to make them rich isn’t really their thing. And I’ve had some discussions with the AFL-CIO. But unions aren’t what they used to be.

RS: Let’s turn to something less unpleasant. I bet you find it funny – that whole story behind the misspelling of Pharaoh.

AP: Yeah, it’s a cute story. And I did find it funny. But then I suggested getting America to record “A Horse With No Correctly Spelled Name.” I could be in the video and pull down 20 percent. They thought this idea was worse than the Bangles. After that I stopped thinking that the misspelling thing was funny.

RS: I’m sure it’ll feel good to see yourself compared to such horses as Secretariat, Seattle Slew and Seabiscuit.

AP: Well not so fast comparing me to Seabiscuit. He got a movie deal. I heard he made enough from that to buy a lot of commercial real estate in Lexington.

RS: Thanks for taking the time to speak with me. It was a real thrill.

AP: I appreciate you stopping by. Take two lefts and a right to get out of here. And if you see the friggin’ guy with the oats…



That’s my time. I’m Randy Spencer. Contact Randy Spencer at

Randy.Spencer@coverageopinions.info