Flashback: Mine That Bird's 'impossible' Kentucky Derby win

The year is 2009. The Kentucky Derby is just days away, and this time — I tell myself — I won’t be confused by the chaos of the huge field. I won’t rely on the television announcer to guide my eyes to each horse. Instead, I’ll memorize the silks of every entrant and watch the race unfold in perfect clarity.

I print out graphics representing the silks for each runner and start taking mental notes. Some of them are easy, as Desert Party and Regal Ransom are wearing the famous blue silks of Godolphin; that’s simple enough. And the three horses carrying the largely white silks of WinStar Farm (Hold Me Back, Advice and Mr. Hot Stuff) will be easy to spot, too, though I’m a little concerned about telling them apart from each other.

Slowly but surely, I commit the silks to memory, concluding with the colors to be worn by longshot Mine That Bird. I don’t expect Mine That Bird to factor in the outcome of the Derby, considering he’s entering off a fourth-place finish in the unheralded Sunland Derby.

But Mine That Bird hails from the first crop of foals sired by 2004 Belmont Stakes winner Birdstone, a stallion I’ve been following since his first runners hit the races. I recall my excitement from the previous year when Mine That Bird triumphed in the Grey Stakes (G3), giving Birdstone his first graded stakes winner, and I remember waiting all winter long to see if Mine That Bird’s graded stakes earnings would be sufficient to land him a spot in the Derby field.

Now against all odds, here’s Mine That Bird among the entries, which I consider to be a victory in and of itself. It will be fun to see him in the Derby, I think to myself, even though he’ll probably finish last. So I diligently memorize his silks — black shirt, gray sleeves, black hat, emblem of two eagles on the shirt. Got it.

Post time arrives, and the race is on. I’m watching on television with a group of fellow racing fans, and as the horses storm down the homestretch for the first time, I find it easy to identify the early leaders. There’s Join In the Dance and Regal Ransom, vying for early supremacy. There’s Pioneerof the Nile — my choice to win — racing a joint third on the outside.

And there, in last place heading into the first turn, is Mine That Bird. He’s trailing the next-to-last horse by half a dozen lengths at least, and I think to myself, I guess he isn’t fast enough to compete at this level.

I turn my attention back to the leaders. I watch Hold Me Back make an early rally into contention along the rail. I watch Pioneerof the Nile smoothly advance, seemingly full of run and poised for a strong finish. I see Papa Clem and Musket Man take aim on the far outside, sweeping into contention as the homestretch approaches.

Then, I see a blur of motion — acceleration — behind the leaders. It’s a mud-covered horse, circling a rival, diving toward the rail and squeezing through inside the tiring pacesetters. It catches my full attention, and someone quickly asks me, “Who’s that coming up the rail?”

Incredulously, I stare at the silks carried by the miniature rocket exploding into the lead, blasting past Pioneerof the Nile and widening his newfound advantage with every stride. They’re splattered in mud, but I can clearly make out a black shirt with gray sleeves:

I think it’s Mine That Bird!

Announcer Tom Durkin breathlessly confirms that, and I watch in disbelief as the unheralded gelding pulls 3 lengths, 5 lengths, 6 3/4 lengths clear of his pursuers. A 50-1 longshot has recorded the Derby’s largest margin of victory in more than 60 years, and Durkin — his voice echoing my own disbelief — describes the result as “impossible.”

But they say nothing is impossible in racing, and Mine That Bird’s victory reiterates this belief. I stay tuned for the rest of the broadcast, watching the post-race celebrations with enjoyment, and then I spend the rest of the evening going back over Mine That Bird’s race record, trying to figure out how in the world he managed to win the Kentucky Derby.

In the end, I can’t make a case for him. To this day, I’m not sure anyone can. By virtually every handicapping metric, Mine That Bird was too slow to wear the roses. And yet, on the first Saturday in May in 2009, it was the minuscule gelding who stood in the Churchill Downs winner’s circle, adorned with the blanket of flowers few believed he could earn.

I still memorize the silks before every edition of the Kentucky Derby. But it’s never resulted in a more memorable moment than spotting Mine That Bird — the son of Birdstone I’d followed all winter — unleashing his electrifying and victorious rally up the rail.

J. Keeler Johnson is a writer, videographer, handicapper, and all-around horse racing enthusiast. A great fan of racing history, he considers Dr. Fager to be the greatest racehorse ever produced in America, but counts Zenyatta as his all-time favorite. You can follow him on Twitter at @J_Keelerman.