Review by Michael Dempsey

When I came home from the store with a Waldenbooks bag, the first thing wife Mary said to me was, "What did you buy me?" When I told her that I had bought a book for myself, she gave me a puzzled look, wondering perhaps if I had purchased the latest Britney Spears' calendar.

I just ignored her and kept walking when she inquired when the last time was that I had actually read a book from front to back. I was an avid reader in junior and senior high school, but with the discovery of girls and the race track, something had to give. Turned out it was my library card. In case you were wondering, the last book I read front to back was Beyer On Speed, and it was not that long ago, was it?

There was a 45-minute delay while we sat on the runway, waiting for the plane to take us to vacation. Just about everyone on the plane was agitated except for me. I was deep into Seabiscuit An American Legend, by Laura Hillenbrand.

The book became a permanent attachment for the next 36 hours until I had completed it. It was exhausting. No, not from reading it, but from the 50,000 rail miles I logged while Hillenbrand took me on a fascinating trip, tracing every step the legendary thoroughbred and his crafty connections took. And it was all told in amazing detail, as if I was along for the ride.

The author did not just tell a story about a horse. It was a fascinating tale of trainer, jockey, and owner, and a riveting history lesson that took me right through the 1930's. While I remember learning about the Great Depression in junior high school, I don't remember my history teacher mentioning Seabiscuit.

The characters were intriguing. There was the owner, Charles Howard, from his days of selling automobiles to toasting champagne to anyone within arm's length. The trainer, Tom Smith, an eccentric man who had little to say, but spoke volumes with his training ability. The jockey, Red Pollard, an oft-injured, alcoholic. I had to keep reminding myself that this was not a novel, but a true story.

As races unfolded, it was more and more difficult to avoid quickly turning the page to see if Seabiscuit had indeed won. Rooting for the colt became easy as the author, in breathtaking detail, gave us an accounting of nearly every step from gate to wire.

When jockey Pollard came up the smallest of noses short in the 1937 Santa Anita Handicap, I winced as if I had a large win wager on the "Biscuit" myself.

Certainly, the "Hundred Grander" as the Santa Anita Handicap was known, would be different in 1938. At least that is what I hoped. Pollard, in the hospital from injuries from a fall, was replaced in the irons by George Woolf.

Hillenbrand wrote, "Stagehound and Seabiscuit drove side by side, blazing through a final quarter of 24 4/5 seconds, astounding for a distance race. Wall was hammering Stagehound at Seabiscuit, but Seabiscuit was hanging up against him and giving it right back, ferocious, head down, ears pinned. Woolf was strung flat over Seabiscuit's back, driving for all his worth. As the wire neared, the horse's heads bobbed out of time, so that the lead was traded every few feet. They hit the wire together."

I had to sweat out the photo, along with a packed house at the track.

The train is just now picking up steam. A match race against Bing Crosby's Ligaroti at Del Mar, a match race against War Admiral at Pimlico, an injury and subsequent year layoff, and a triumphant return for both horse and jockey in the 1940 Santa Anita Handicap. All told in incredible detail and exciting fashion that will keep you reaching for the finish line with each and every page and race.

This book is an instant classic, the best book about thoroughbred racing ever written.

With Hillenbrand as our tour guide, we embark on a journey that for today's horseplayer almost seems unimaginable. As I sit in front of a bank of television sets with signals reaching from Calder to Hollywood Park, I used to think that horse racing was never better.

Boy, was I wrong!