The horse is not a machine
At Laurel Park — a venue standing in for the historic Pimlico for the first time in 151 years — Napoleon Solo won the Preakness Stakes, a victory that arrived less as a triumph than as a mirror held up to a sport quietly renegotiating its own traditions. The Kentucky Derby winner was absent by choice, a trainer's deliberate act of prioritizing an animal's welfare over racing's most storied prize. What was once the middle jewel of an almost mythic pursuit has become, for the sixth time in eight years, a race run in the mathematical shadow of an already-impossible dream.
- The Triple Crown has been structurally out of reach before the Preakness even ran for six of the last eight years, signaling not a streak of bad luck but a fundamental shift in how elite racing is managed.
- For the second consecutive year, the Kentucky Derby winner skipped the Preakness entirely — trainer Cherie DeVaux choosing her horse's welfare over the sport's most celebrated achievement.
- The Preakness itself ran at Laurel Park for the first time in its 151-year history, displaced by Pimlico renovations in a logistical shuffle that felt like a metaphor for the sport's loosening grip on its own identity.
- A horse named Hit Zero — the race's favorite — finished last, collapsed at the finish line, and died, casting a long shadow over Napoleon Solo's victory and the celebration that followed.
- With the Belmont Stakes also displaced to Saratoga for a third straight year, the Triple Crown now runs entirely in borrowed venues, chased by fewer horses, and carrying a weight its old mythology can no longer fully support.
Napoleon Solo won the 151st Preakness Stakes on Saturday, but the victory arrived wrapped in disruption. For the first time in a century and a half, the race left Pimlico Race Course, moving twenty miles south to Laurel Park while renovations reshape the historic venue. The relocation felt less like a logistical footnote and more like a symbol of how much the sport's old certainties have begun to give way.
The deeper story was the empty gate where the Derby winner should have stood. Golden Tempo's trainer, Cherie DeVaux, chose to skip the Preakness entirely — the second consecutive year a Derby champion had bypassed the race. Her reasoning was plain: 'The horse is not a machine.' It was a statement of priorities that an increasing number of trainers seem to share. In the five years since 2021, three Derby winners have skipped the Preakness — matching the total from the previous six decades combined.
Only three horses from the Derby field made the trip to Laurel Park. The field felt thin, shaped more by what trainers had decided to protect than by what the race itself could attract. And for the sixth time in eight years, the Triple Crown had already become mathematically impossible before the Preakness was run.
The day carried a grief that had nothing to do with venue or tradition. Hit Zero, the race's favorite, finished last, then collapsed at the finish line and died. His trainer, Brittany Russell, also trained the race's winner — a victory that arrived in the immediate shadow of that loss.
The Belmont Stakes, scheduled for June 6, will run at Saratoga for the third straight year, its own home under renovation. The Triple Crown now unfolds in borrowed places, with fewer horses willing to chase it, and the dream that once defined the sport growing quieter with each passing season.
Napoleon Solo crossed the finish line at Laurel Park on Saturday to win the 151st Preakness Stakes, a victory that arrived wrapped in the kind of institutional disruption that has come to define thoroughbred racing in recent years. For the first time in a century and a half, the race did not take place at Pimlico Race Course. Instead, it moved roughly twenty miles south to Laurel Park while Pimlico undergoes renovation—a logistical shift that felt almost symbolic of how much the sport's old certainties have begun to fracture.
The absence of the Kentucky Derby winner from the starting gate told the deeper story. Golden Tempo, who had won the Derby two weeks earlier, never made the trip to Maryland. The horse's trainer, Cherie DeVaux, made the decision to skip the Preakness entirely, continuing a pattern that has accelerated in recent years. Sovereignty did the same thing last year, then went on to win the Belmont Stakes. When asked about the choice, DeVaux was direct: "I understand that fans of the sport or fans of the Triple Crown are disappointed, but the horse is not a machine." It was a statement about priorities—about the welfare of the animal mattering more than the pursuit of racing's most storied achievement.
This was the second consecutive year the Derby winner had bypassed the Preakness. But the broader numbers were more striking still. In the sixty years from 1960 to 2018, only three Derby winners had skipped the race. In the five years since 2021, that number had reached three. More tellingly, for the sixth time in eight years, the Triple Crown had already become mathematically impossible before the Preakness was even run. The dream of one horse winning all three races—the Derby, the Preakness, and the Belmont—had become so distant that it barely seemed worth chasing anymore.
Of the horses that had competed in the Derby two weeks prior, only three returned to Laurel Park: Ocelli, Robusta, and Incredibolt. Corona de Oro, who was assigned the 11 post, had been scratched well before the Derby ever took place. Great White, who had reared up and fallen backward after becoming startled near the starting gate, drew the 13 post on Saturday. The field itself felt thin, depleted by the decisions trainers had made about which races mattered and which did not.
The day carried a shadow that had nothing to do with the relocated venue. Roughly twenty-four hours before the Preakness went off, a horse had died following the completion of his first race ever. The timing felt like a reminder of the stakes involved in what happens on the track. Hit Zero, trained by Brittany Russell, had come into the Preakness as the favorite. He finished last. As he crossed the finish line, he began coughing, dropped to his knees, and died. The winner of the race was another Russell-trained horse, Bold Fact—a victory that arrived in the shadow of that collapse.
The Belmont Stakes, the final leg of the Triple Crown, is scheduled for June 6. Like the Preakness, it too has been displaced from its traditional home. Belmont Park is undergoing renovation, so the race will take place at Saratoga for the third consecutive year. The Triple Crown, once the sport's defining narrative, has become a story told in borrowed venues, with fewer horses chasing it, and the old certainties about what matters most no longer holding quite so firmly.
Notable Quotes
I understand that fans of the sport or fans of the Triple Crown are disappointed, but the horse is not a machine.— Cherie DeVaux, trainer of Golden Tempo
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did the trainer skip the Derby winner? That seems like the obvious move.
Because the horse had already run hard two weeks before. Trainers are increasingly asking whether one more race at that level is worth the risk to the animal. The Triple Crown used to be the whole point. Now it's just one option among many.
But doesn't that change what the Preakness even is?
Completely. It becomes a different race when the Derby winner isn't there. You lose the narrative thread. You lose the stakes. It's still prestigious, but it's not the same thing anymore.
The horse died the day before. Did that affect how people saw the race?
It had to. You're watching horses run at the absolute limit of what their bodies can do. When one collapses and dies, and then the next day you're watching another race, the whole thing feels more fragile. More real, maybe, in a way that's uncomfortable.
Is the Triple Crown actually dead?
Not dead. But it's become optional in a way it never was before. Six of the last eight years, it was mathematically impossible before the Preakness even ran. That's not a fluke. That's a choice the sport is making.