Game On caught an image of the new statue commemorating Barbaro’s Kentucky Derby in 2006, an impressive display of MY FREAKING GOD, PEOPLE, IT’S JUST A DAMN HORSE!

A bronze statue was unveiled yesterday at Churchill Downs of the race’s 2006 winner, who died after a lengthy battle with a hoof condition. Barbaro’s ashes are buried beneath the sculpture, which stands near Gate 1, next to the Kentucky Derby Museum.

The artwork is being called a first, because it shows the horse in midair, with no feet touching the ground.

The statue is about 5/4 the size of the actual Barbaro, which could make a lot of guys uncomfortable if it’s anatomically correct. The Derby, by the way, is this Friday Saturday. I think of it as the NCAA Tournament for horses, since the participants get paid with lodging and oats, and can pretty much screw whoever they want. Beats having your scrotom hair burned off by a laptop five days a week. But then, so does…everything.

The Preakness is not only one-third of horse-racing’s Triple Crown, it is also the East Coast’s largest gathering of shirtless white guys in cargo shorts.  Attracting lacrosse players and sorority girls from Maryland, New Jersey, and eastern Pennsylvania, the Preakness infield is possibly the most public forum for upper-class white kids to act like drunken assholes.

However, this year, Preakness officials have made a break with history and will no longer allow alcohol or any other beverages into the infield.  Instead, 16-oz beers will be available for $3.50 apiece, which translates to “way more expensive per beer than a case of Bud Light” but is still only half the price of a beer at most major league baseball stadiums.  Also, in an attempt to divert people from the sole focus of drinking, organizers have booked ZZ Top and Buckcherry, which — ironically — will likely increase people’s focus on drinking.

In case you’re not well acquainted with the ways of the Preakness infield, look no further than Dan Steinberg’s report and the classic video of Port-a-John racing.  Sadly, people will be less likely to make a gauntlet of thrown beer if they’ve paid $3.50 a pop for them.  But guess what?  There’s no limit on the number of ROCKS you can bring to the infield!  A tradition lives on!

Maylan Studart is a 19-year-old from Rio de Janeiro who recently moved to the U.S. to ride horses at New York’s Aqueduct racetrack.  And in a twist of fate no one could have imagined, a 19-year-old Brazilian woman also happens to be attractive.

Her blog, which includes pictures of her on the beach, in Halloween costume, and with her husband (sad trombone), features the vision that made her dream of riding in America possible:

You see, the key is to aim high. If you set low goals, you may achieve them, yes. And maybe sooner than you would achieve a very high goal. But if you aim high and try with your heart, with your soul, with your mind, like a horse who wears blinkers (“antolhos” em português), even if you don’t reach your highest goal, you will still get so much furthur than you would if you aimed low.

I dunno.  That’s great that you’ve won five of your first 15 races in America and all (including a 51-1 longshot), but that sounds like an awful lot of work.  I’d rather set goals like, “I have to finish this jar of peanut butter by the time I finish watching The O.C. Season Two on DVD.”  And I’ll accomplish that goal.  Even if it means not going outside or showering all weekend.

[Sports by Brooks]

Aside from the few big races that feature women in big hats and drunken revelers in the infield, horse racing crowds might be the most depressing collections of people on the Earth. You’ll find fewer shattered dreams at a refugee camp.

Which is why I love the altered call for this race. It not only plays on the oddity of horses’ names, but it may very well tell the story of how someone ended up at the race track in the first place. It’s, like, all deep and shit.

[The Big Picture]

I'm kind of at a loss for words with this one.  I guess the horse's name is "Arrrrr"?  But the announcer does more of an I'm-getting-strangled "Arrrrr" than a pirate "Yarrrr," which would have been way better.  I don't know about you, but something about watching a bunch of stallions run around to the sound of a man getting choked… really turns me on.  That's normal, right?

[Best Week Ever] 

Big Brown will be racing for the Triple Crown in this weekend's… uh… which one happens in New York?  The Belmont Stakes?  Right.  That one.  And his stable of ladies promises to be delightfully tacky, yet unrefined.

If Big Brown makes it to the winner's circle, he will be greeted by busty Hooters girls in tightfitting T-shirts.

"We do have our logo right up on the jockey," Mike McNeil, vice president of marketing for Hooters of America, told the Daily News. "We'll have Hooters execs and Hooters girls in the winner's circle when the horse wins." [Must... resist... horsecock... joke.]

Fitting.  A thoroughbred made for riding surrounded by thoroughbreds made for riding.  That's some good synergy, Hooters.  And by synergy I mean boobs.

[The Sporting Blog]