By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
By Patricia Calhoun
By William Breathes
Before it's over, maybe they could match him up against a '58 Edsel. Or the Hindenburg. Or Michael Dukakis. Something. Because Zippy Chippy, whose papers say he is a thoroughbred racehorse, has never won versus his own kind. In eleven long years of trying (and sometimes not trying), the thirteen-year-old bay gelding, bred in New York, has gone to the post an even 100 times, and failed to visit the winner's circle on every occasion. Zero for 100. The son of Compliance (out of Listen Lady) reached that dubious milestone September 10 at the Three-County Fair in Northampton, Massachusetts, when, in the second race, he finished dead last in a field of eight. Now, his owner/trainer reports, the end may finally be near. Out to pasture.
"I don't know," 61-year-old Felix Monserrate said by telephone last week. "I just don't know. He's training good. He's happy. But I don't want to take a chance of him getting hurt. This could be it."
The Secretariats of the racing world fly forever through memory, and magical upstarts like Smarty Jones always wear blankets of red roses in our mind's eye. John Elway finally earned his Super Bowl rings, and the expansion Diamondbacks took out the mighty Yankees in seven. But who will hold a brief for Zippy Chippy? Who will remember him ten or twenty or fifty years from now? The horse that couldn't run straight. The plodder who so often dwelt in the gate at humble Finger Lakes Racetrack in upstate New York that the stewards finally banned him. Who drifted wide in the turn. Who stopped cold on the backstretch. Who lost what were probably the last two races of his futile career by a total of 41 lengths.
Actually, a lot of people will remember.
Like the '62 Mets and Rodney Dangerfield, Zippy Chippy has attracted a following over the years -- and not among just the lame, the halt and the delusional. He gets fan mail from many countries. His trainer, who has been running cheap horses at bush-league tracks for forty years, has become a minor celebrity. When the old racehorse materialized again last month at the Northampton Fair -- which may be the only race meet in the country where he's still allowed to, uh, compete -- dozens of fans showed up wearing Zippy Chippy T-shirts and Zippy Chippy lapel pins. Despite the horse's woeful record, they sent him off at respectable 6-1 odds on September 4 (he ran seventh, 32 lengths behind the winner) and as the 7-2 second choice in his hundredth race, six days later.
To call him the sentimental favorite is to understate the case. Horseplayers bet on the world's most famous maiden so they can keep their losing tickets as souvenirs. Children want to pet him, although Zippy is anything but docile. Except in the company of Monserrate's fifteen-year-old daughter, Marisa, he's a terror. He throws riders, savages other horses on the track and does major damage to his stall. He's even nipped a few chunks of flesh from his long-suffering trainer. Still, Monserrate says, he loves Zippy Chippy like a wayward son.
"He give motivation to people," the Puerto Rico-born horseman says. "To keep going. Three years ago, I even get a call from London, England. The guy tells me they using Zippy in a TV campaign to keep kids who wanna quit school in school. They say: Look at this horse in America that no matter how bad he run he keep trying." Zippy hasfinished second eight times (once by just a nose, Monserrate says) and third twelve times, but his only "wins" were publicity stunts -- a race against a trotting horse at Freehold Raceway in New Jersey (he spotted the slower standardbred a twenty-length lead and caught him at the wire) and two scores in sprints against minor-league baseball players in Rochester, New York. Don't let this out, but one of the defeated Homo sapiens was Aurora native Darnell McDonald, then playing for the Rochester Red Wings.
On this continent, only a fellow gelding named Thrust has surpassed Zippy Chippy in the annals of equine failure. In the 1950s, Thrust managed to get beat 105 times in just five years. But he never got the kind of sympathetic publicity the Zipster does. Perennial presidential candidate Harold Stassen would have been thrilled with so much ink. Likewise the Broncos' Steve Tensi, dropping back to pass, bouncing the ball off his knee, then inadvertently knocking it into the end zone behind him. Remember Lloyd Ruby? He was the plain-talking Texas race driver whose bad luck at the Indianapolis 500 became legend. Many times, he led the great race only to have things go disastrously wrong. In the 1970 500, Ruby was driving a red, white and blue car sponsored by Denver cable-television pioneer Bill Daniels when, more than halfway home, he surged to the front. What's more, he said later, on the very lap he took the lead, he glimpsed a flight of white doves over turn three -- a sign of good luck in Ruby's part of Texas. Great, except that when he made his final pit stop, he misread a crewman's signal and screeched away from the pit box with the fuel nozzle still in his tank. Tore the side of the car off. Never again led the 500.