The Sport of Kings was having a very pressing problem with its porcelain thrones. In the hours leading up to last year’s 140th running of the Preakness Stakes at Pimlico Race Course, a water-pressure issue forced track officials to close a number of bathrooms in the aging—many would say dying—facility after some toilets began backing up. That’s a serious problem at an event where tens of thousands of fans drink Black-Eyed Susan cocktails and Budweiser drafts as if a second Prohibition starts at sunset. “Every year it seems to be something,” says Sal Sinatra, president and general manager of the Maryland Jockey Club, which runs the race. “We’re just worried that this year it could be electric—or anything. It’s just an old building.”

That’s an understatement. In an industry where Gary Stevens was considered a relic in 2013 when, at 50 years of age, he became the oldest jockey to ever win the Preakness, the 146-year-old Pimlico facility is downright ancient.

Old Hilltop, as it’s known, is clearly losing its looks and suffering occasional plumbing issues (who among us isn’t?), but, at this point, those aren’t even its biggest problems. The lack of skyboxes and other modern amenities makes the Preakness far less profitable than its Triple Crown siblings, which is a major reason why statements Sinatra made on the brink of last year’s race sent shock waves through the city, state, and sports world.

In response to the question, “Is it conceivable that the Preakness should someday be at Laurel?”—referring to the Jockey Club-run track 25 miles south of Pimlico—he replied, “Actually . . . yes . . . I think by the end of the year, I’ll know if it’s going to be Laurel or not.”

The news of Sinatra’s candor spread faster than American Pharoah ran later that day, when he thrilled a record crowd of 131,680 by winning the second jewel of horse racing’s Triple Crown in a deluge.

Baltimore without the Preakness? That would be like Charm City without the Colts. Okay, bad example. But as the Stronach Group, which acquired the Jockey Club in 2011, spends millions on major surgery for Laurel Park while Pimlico gets Band-Aids, it’s fair to ask: Might the Preakness one day move? And if it does, what exactly will be lost?

Let’s clear up one thing about the Preakness’s future at Pimlico right out of the gate.

“It’s there for as long as I can see right now,” Sinatra says. “Nobody wants it to move. Maybe one year you’ll have to let Laurel [host] it because they’re renovating the entire grandstand, but other than that I would hope that Pimlico would last another 100-plus years.”

Since it opened in 1870, Pimlico has hosted some of the most famous races in history, including Seabiscuit’s 1938 victory over War Admiral. Over the years, attending the Preakness also has become a rite of passage for partying Marylanders.

“Back in the ’70s, you could do whatever you wanted. Literally,” says Mike Cray, an Ellicott City resident who has attended more than 35 Preakness races. “A friend of mine’s uncle had a funeral home, so we took a casket, lined it, and filled it with 60 cases of beer. We’d pick up a couch and a recliner and we’d make his and her porta-potty enclosures out of refrigerator boxes. We brought it all to the infield.”

The 146-year-old Pimlico facility is downright ancient.

A bit of the anarchic spirit wore off in 2009 when Pimlico banned fans from importing their own booze, but with concerts and plenty of drinking options in the InfieldFest, very few fans wake up Sunday without a hangover.

In the clubhouse, the crowd skews older and dressier, and cocktails tend to trump beer. Of the three Triple Crown tracks, Pimlico actually offers the best vantage points for spectators, says Hall of Fame jockey Jerry Bailey. The two-time Preakness winner now is an analyst for NBC Sports, which televises the race.

“Pimlico is the smallest of the three in terms of the grandstand,” he says. “The circumference of the track is the same size as Churchill Downs, but it gives you a much more intimate feel, like it’s closer to the racing surface itself.”

That’s where the favorable comparisons to the homes of the Kentucky Derby and the Belmont end. Bailey recalls a fire in Pimlico’s jockey room caused by an overloaded circuit breaker in 1998, and says the place is in a “state of disrepair.”

“The barns need a lot of work, that’s for sure,” says Bill Boniface Sr., co-owner and trainer of 1983 Preakness champion Deputed Testamony, the last Maryland horse to win. Still, he’d like to see Pimlico survive. “If it were to move, you wouldn’t be comparing apples to apples. You compare the great horses over the years at the same distance, the same time of year; you’d lose that if you took it somewhere else.”

Peeling paint, sagging floors, a dearth of 21st-century technology, and a general down-on-its-luck feel permeate Pimlico. No one knows this more than Sinatra.

“We’re limited on resources in terms of kitchen facilities and things like that,” he says. “The bathroom situation is a nightmare. It was built so long ago that it’s majority men’s bathrooms. You’ve got stairs to some bathrooms so people who are disabled can’t get to them. I think fans are expecting more nowadays.”

Meanwhile, last September, Churchill Downs announced it would spend $18 million to modernize its Turf Club and several other premium areas. From 2001 to 2005, the Louisville facility underwent a $121 million facelift in which the clubhouse was upgraded and 77 luxury suites were added.

Suites are the golden goose on which the Stronach Group is pinning its hopes for the future.

“On most measurements, we’re 50 percent of the Kentucky Derby,” Sinatra says. “We’re 50 percent of sponsorships, we’re a little more than 50 percent in handle. The thing that’s different is the Derby nets $55 million that weekend. We net $8 million. The main reason is we don’t have the luxury boxes—the stuff that a newer facility can offer businesses and wealthier people to get those numbers up.”

It’s not a matter of just renovating the existing facility. Because it was built on dirt, the grandstand can’t be expanded vertically, Sinatra says. Razing then rebuilding it, many people think, is the only solution, and that could cost upward of $200 million, a figure that leads to another tricky question.

Who’s going to pay for that?

Del. Sandy Rosenberg was born and raised in the 41st District, which he now represents. Except for college and law school, he has lived within walking distance of Pimlico his entire life. Losing the Preakness would be catastrophic for the city’s psyche and its pocketbook, he believes.

“It’d be like losing the Colts, but you’re not going to get the Ravens a decade later,” he says. “It’s like having a convention every year. There are a fair number of people who have discretionary income. They stay in hotels, they go out to eat and drink. They don’t just go to the track on Saturday.”

Visitors to the 2015 Preakness spent an estimated $10.6 million statewide, according to a Maryland Department of Commerce report. Indirectly, total Preakness-related spending was $33.6 million, and spending and employment from Preakness race-day operations and visitor spending generated about $2.2 million in state and local taxes.

That alone would seem like a good reason to renovate the track, despite the costs.

Rosenberg calls a 50-50 public/private financing split for a new facility “reasonable,” but other lawmakers are not convinced. Del. Pat McDonough has floated the idea of a new track at Port Covington because, he says, people would be more attracted to an event near the waterfront than up in Park Heights.

“The people that own Pimlico are not really interested in pouring any money into the development of that current site, nor do I want the taxpayers to put any money into that site. It’s too far gone,” McDonough says. “It needs a rebirth somewhere else. It needs to be part of a larger project, which would be, for example, an entertainment district where the new racetrack would be adjacent to an upscale marina, a hotel facility, and there would be theaters and restaurants.

“All the legendary horses have come through here. Laurel does not have that feel.”

“We’ve got to forget about emotional and sentimental attachments, because Pimlico at its present site and in its condition has no future,” continues McDonough, who calls a 1987 state law that bars the Preakness from leaving its current site a “paper tiger.”

Under Armour founder Kevin Plank, who entered the horse racing business in 2007 when he bought Sagamore Farm, is developing much of Port Covington. He believes the Preakness should always be in Baltimore, company spokesperson Diane Pelkey says, but the focus of Port Covington’s master plan is the Under Armour headquarters, and it does not include a track.

Governor Larry Hogan appears to be taking a wait-and-see approach.

“The Preakness is an important cultural institution and economic driver for the state and Baltimore City,” says Hogan’s spokesperson, Hannah Marr. “Governor Hogan supports keeping this iconic horse race in the city, where it has been a Maryland tradition for more than 140 years.”

The Stronach Group last year spent $20 million at Laurel Park building two 150-stall barns, adding a new simulcast room, installing hardwood floors, new carpeting, new bars and food options, and replacing old tube TVs with 850 flat-screens. It has more land, a more modern facility, and, most importantly, will host 129 days of racing this year, as compared to 28 at Pimlico.

In the meantime, however, this year’s Preakness on May 21 will feature a new 30-by-50-foot high-definition television screen in the infield, redone flooring on the second floor of the clubhouse, and, yes, working bathrooms.

“I’m hopeful that we’ll come up with a master plan for Pimlico just as we’re trying to do for Laurel,” Sinatra says. “My guess is you’re probably going to be talking to me in the next three to five years seeing where we’re at. We’re trying to find a way that three to five can be 30 to 50. It’s the second-oldest track in the country. All the legendary horses have come through there. Laurel just does not have the same feel. Our sport is built on history, and history is Pimlico.”

At Shamrock Farm, a thoroughbred breeding operation in Woodbine, the foaling barn is an oasis of warm light during a ferocious Maryland ice storm. Inside, as many as 30 broodmares nibble hay, stir with discomfort, and await the birth of the next generation of thoroughbred racing. Throughout the night, a lone individual on “foal watch” monitors the mares in case of delivery complications. In a stall deeply bedded with straw, a foal, hours old, staggers to its mother’s side to nurse—the newest player in a centuries-old love affair between Maryland and thoroughbred racing that will reach its annual peak at this month’s Preakness Stakes.

This future racehorse, his fuzzy back less than a foot wide, will carry the dreams of his owners and trainers, who hope he will develop into, if not a Triple Crown contender, at least a money-earner. But what are the odds? Approximately 22,000 thoroughbreds were born in North America last year—over 400 in Maryland alone. Only a fraction of these make it to the racetrack, waylaid by either injury or mediocre talent. Of those that do race, many will never make money for their owners, who can spend thousands of dollars per month to keep a horse in training at the track. Even the elite horses, the ones that manage to get to the track and make money, will have short careers. Many retire by the age of five, and, unless they attain superstar status, their futures are anything but certain.

A thoroughbred foal whose life began with a $20,000 investment may, a few years later, be sold by the pound and put on a truck to Mexico or Canada, bound for slaughter. (Horse slaughter was effectively banned in the United States between 2007 and 2011, then banned again in 2014.)

That’s where MidAtlantic Horse Rescue comes in. Founded in 2002 by Beverly Strauss and Ginny Suarez, MidAtlantic Horse Rescue is one of several Maryland operations working to give these equine athletes second chances by retraining them for new careers in other equestrian sports—or simply as family pets.

“To toss them aside for a horrific fate when they are not making money is unconscionable.”

“These thoroughbreds were born and bred for our sport and our pleasure, and to toss them aside for a horrific fate when they are not making money is unconscionable,” says Strauss, a former racehorse trainer and lifelong horsewoman. “We owe them so much more than that.”

Located on 158 acres on the banks of the Sassafras River on the Eastern Shore, MidAtlantic Horse Rescue started when Strauss and Suarez pulled three horses from a slaughter auction and rehabilitated and retrained them for new homes. Two horses became eventers. (Eventing is a multidisciplinary competition, combining elements of steeplechasing, dressage, and show jumping.) The third, a chestnut mare named First By Far, became a show horse. “We were thrilled when those first adoptions happened,” Strauss says. It was wonderful to see someone so happy to have a lovely new horse of their own. We went right back to the auction and saved another one.” The organization is now credited with saving more than 1,000 former racehorses.

But the economics are tough: Each horse costs about $500 to buy. Then there are the costs of feeding, shoeing, massage, and veterinary and chiropractic care. Because of this, Strauss can only save about a dozen horses at a time. She is frank when describing how she chooses: “I look at the eye first, then down to see if he’s got good legs.” She acknowledges that it’s tough to leave so many behind, but explains, “You can save an old broken-down one, but you’ll have him for the next twenty years. [If] you save a sound one and find it a home, you can go back to save one more.”

Sometimes, she receives help from unlikely sources—the so-called “kill buyers” who purchase, usually at auction, horses for slaughter. “Some of these guys have hearts, too,” Strauss says, explaining that her source will contact her when he has a horse he thinks she’d be interested in. “I got a call the other day. The guy said he had four horses, but I only had room for two. So the other two went [to slaughter],” she says, her penetrating gaze wavering before fixing on a small group of horses grazing on a hillside.

The horses arrive at the farm in various conditions. Many come with hoof problems due to neglect, which her husband, Tom Strauss, a farrier, treats. Earlier on, some of the horses came to the farm suffering from drug withdrawal, often from erythropoietin—a blood-doping agent known as EPO. The drug can cause extreme health problems and sometimes even death. But Strauss notes it is rare these days, thanks to improved testing techniques for detecting banned substances. Whatever the horses’ conditions, “They all need time to rest from being exhausted mentally and physically,” Strauss says.

Once the horses are medically sound, training begins and can range from introducing them to the mounting block (in racing, jockeys are boosted onto their backs) to teaching them that horse shows—though superficially similar to races (crowds, a public address system, lots of activity)—require different behavior. (No bolting!)

Preventing ex-racers from needing organizations like Strauss’s is the ultimate goal for animal advocates. Maryland’s racing industry has taken the problem more seriously than most. In 2008, the Maryland Jockey Club initiated a no-slaughter policy, which stipulates that any person caught sending a horse to slaughter or transporting a horse to an auction where slaughter buyers operate will be banned from Maryland tracks. The rule seems to have deterred the most flagrant practitioners. Still, some circumvent the rules by taking horses directly to the “kill buyers” on feedlots, where the horses are held before being shipped out of the country.

“I’m a big fan of the thoroughbred. . . . When you look back, they’ve been some of our greatest horses.”

When asked about the underground market, Maryland Jockey Club director of racing and racing secretary Georganne Hale is adamant that such individuals can’t hide in the shadows for long. “We’ll find out,” she says, “No one keeps a secret on the racetrack. People who love horses will squeal.”

Not only was Maryland’s racing industry one of the first to implement the anti-slaughter policy, but it also has taken the lead in the collection and disbursement of financial assistance to accredited rescue operations, such as Strauss’s MidAtlantic Horse Rescue. Funding comes from money collected for every start in a race. Furthermore, many trainers, breeders, and owners choose to donate directly. That’s as it should be, says Katharine Voss, a co-owner of Chanceland Farm, a breeding and training facility in Howard County. “From farm to grave, we all share responsibility,” she says.

But not every state has been as proactive as Maryland, and meat buyers are still busy moving ex-racers. Strauss and her brethren are determined to prove that these horses are worth more alive than dead.

Kimberly Godwin Clark, a retired racehorse owner and former exercise rider, now directs Thoroughbred Placement Resources (TPR) at her farm in Upper Marlboro. Through TPR, she has assisted in re-homing hundreds of former racehorses, many of which have gone on to brilliant second careers in eventing, show jumping, fox hunting, and pleasure riding. Clark emphasizes the importance of training thoroughbreds for second careers as champion sport horses. “We have to get these horses into the upper levels [of competition] so people will want and keep them.”

The key is marketing the thoroughbred’s versatility and athleticism. The Davidsonville-based Retired Racehorse Project has created the Thoroughbred Makeover competition, a national showcase in which contestants retrain ex-racehorses for up to nine months before competing in 10 disciplines. Last year, it was held at Pimlico Race Course. This year, it will be held at the Kentucky Horse Park in October. One of Clark’s entries this year is a big, gray, Maryland-bred thoroughbred she rescued in December. The horse, named Not Apologizing, but affectionately called Pauley, sustained an injury before he even ran a race and needed time to recuperate. After nearly five months of stall rest, he recently was cleared to begin limited training. Clark plans to take it slow with Pauley and “just see what he wants to be when he grows up.”

At Broad Run Farm, a show-horse training facility in Poolesville, another such retired racer is further along in the process and making quite a name for himself. On a brisk late-winter day, Outrageous, a chestnut gelding the color of the setting sun, moves with the reliable rhythm of a metronome over a course of fences. Kevin Bruce, a veteran competitor and trainer at the farm, watches this off-the-track thoroughbred—or OTTB as they’re called in the show world—execute a perfect course of fences with his young rider. According to Bruce, Outrageous has taken the show-hunter world by storm, meeting and beating bigger, fancier, imported European-bred horses in top competitions. It’s the beginning of more and more happy stories for OTTBs, says Bruce. In fact, in his experience, retired racers are easier to transition to the show ring because the horses have seen it all already, and really love a crowd. “I’m a big fan of the thoroughbred—always have been and always will be. When you look back, they’ve been and continue to be some of our greatest horses,” he says.

Of course, not every horse will become a champion—but that doesn’t mean they don’t have value.

In September 2014, TPR launched the Hero Horses Program, in which active-duty military, wounded warriors, veterans, and their families are invited to the farm to meet and help the horses—and perhaps themselves.

The retired racehorses and veterans have much in common: They’re both highly trained in specialty skills, dedicated, and often need help adjusting to the next phase of their lives. Retired Air Force staff sergeant Alicia Watkins inspired the program with her frequent visits to the stable. Watkins survived the 9/11 attack on the Pentagon and then, while serving in Afghanistan, sustained a spinal-chord injury from a suicide-bomber. She says she came to TPR feeling “cast away after 16 years in the military.” Now she finds solace just being around the horses. She says being at the farm lessens her stress and notes that, “This program would motivate so many other warriors who need to recalibrate their minds into a new career.” Plus, unlike psychiatric therapy, there is no stigma or agenda associated with participation in the program.

As Watkins says, “[At the farm], they are just vets trying to help a racehorse find a new home. Some of these guys just need a purpose, to be useful.” The same could be said for the horses.

Say Black-Eyed Susan to a Marylander and one of two things generally comes to mind: the famous Preakness cocktail or the flower. But to horse-racing aficionados, it can mean only one thing—the race held the day before Preakness and quite possibly, Pimlico’s best-kept secret.

Although it is one of the oldest races run at Old Hilltop and is the second biggest day on the Maryland racing calendar in terms of purses and attendance, the Black-Eyed Susan has been largely lost in the frenzy and revelry of its Triple Crown counterpart. But if the Maryland Jockey Club has its way, that’s about to change.

Now celebrating its 95th year, the Black-Eyed Susan is a graded stakes race for 3-year-old fillies run over a mile and one-eighth. It is the headlining race of the day before the Preakness Stakes that also includes the running of the historic Pimlico Special. Originally called the Pimlico Oaks, the race changed its name in 1952. Each leg of the Triple Crown has its own filly race day, starting with the Kentucky Oaks the day before the Derby and wrapping up with the Acorn Stakes at Belmont. Unofficially, this series is called the “Filly Triple Crown.”

“To understand the coupling of 3-year-old filly and colt races, you probably have to go back to their origins in England,” explains Allan Carter, historian at the National Museum of Racing in Saratoga Springs, NY. During the 1788 race meeting at Epson Downs, the 12th Earl of Derby, a prominent racing official, decided that rather than hold the usual two- to four-mile heats for older horses, he would have a race only for 3-year-old fillies. He called the race the Oak, the name of one of his estates.

“The race was such a success that Lord Derby . . . decided to hold a similar race for 3-year-old colts in 1790,” says Carter. “When Churchill Downs decided to run the first Kentucky Derby in 1875, they continued the English tradition of having a similar race for fillies and named it the Kentucky Oaks.”

While the horse sexes have sometimes been kept separate in the racing world in the U.S., it’s not because colts and geldings are necessarily faster. In 139 runnings of the Kentucky Derby, for instance, only 39 fillies ran in the race, but they do win occasionally against the guy horses. And many fillies are in the national racing hall of fame, including Genuine Risk (who won the Kentucky Derby in 1980), 1988 Derby winner Winning Colors, Sky Beauty, and, of course, Ruffian. And a filly won the Preakness in 2009—Rachel Alexandra. In each case, however, the filly’s owner must decide if the horse’s personality is dominant enough in a colts-dominated race, or if she’d do better in a fillies race.

For many years, the Black-Eyed Susan’s success was weather-dependent, a sibling lost in the shadow of Big Brother Preakness. If 22,000 spectators showed up on a sunny day, it was considered a success. But in 2010, that began to change.

Mike Gathagan, VP of communications for the Maryland Jockey Club, explains that the mandate came down from president Tom Chuckas to build Black-Eyed Susan Day into something more substantial. The reasoning is mostly practical: There’s a limit to the number of people who can fit in Pimlico on Preakness Day. Black-Eyed Susan provides the same quality of racing and the fun, party atmosphere one gets on Saturday, but without the crushing crowds. Building a market for Black-Eyed Susan was an opportunity to spread Preakness fever to a broader audience.

Since it’s a day for fillies, it made sense to connect the race with women’s causes, a tactic that was already successful with the Kentucky Oaks, where “Pink Out!” is the theme of the day. Five years ago, the Jockey Club connected with the Maryland affiliate of the Susan G. Komen Foundation, offering special events like a turfside luncheon for breast-cancer survivors and a fashion show.

“Everyone is familiar with the Race for the Cure,” says Robin Prothro, CEO of Komen Maryland, “But they aren’t as familiar with our third-party events like Black-Eyed Susan. It’s a large event that reaches an audience we don’t necessarily reach through our typical venues.” She says it’s also been a great way to have a visible presence in the Pimlico neighborhood, an area that has high-incidence rates of breast cancer. More than $200,000 has been donated to Komen Maryland since the partnership began in 2010.

Black-Eyed Susan is evolving and so, too, is the relationship with Komen. This year, Chuckas announced that Black-Eyed Susan Day will be branded as “the ultimate girls’ day out.” As part of the rebranding effort, the Jockey Club is adding a second charity partner, Suited to Succeed, which provides business attire for disadvantaged women. It and Komen will share a percentage of the race-day proceeds.
“This is an opportunity to recruit and engage a younger audience by making a positive impact in the community,” says Chuckas in a press statement. “We are going to pick a different charity each year in hopes of broadening the brand.”

Spectators at this year’s race can expect a lot more than just action on the track. There’s a festival featuring women-owned and women-focused vendors in the infield. There’s going to be an attempt to break the current Guinness World Record for the largest group doing the musical exercise program Zumba, and actress Mariel Hemingway will be the keynote speaker at a Women in Business Networking Gala and Luncheon co-hosted with the Baltimore Washington Corridor Chamber of Commerce. Each Black-Eyed Susan Day, there’s a challenge race where jockeys accrue points based on how they place over four races and the jock with the most points at the end of the day walks away with $20,000, with another $30,000 split between second- to seventh-place winners.

Last year, the challenge theme was a battle of the sexes. This year, it will be for active hall-of-fame riders, including Calvin Borel, Edgar Prado, and Gary Stevens. In the evening, Counting Crows and The Fray will headline a concert in the infield. Last year’s performance by the Goo Goo Dolls pushed full-day attendance to a record high.

Perhaps the biggest crowd pleaser is the Lady Legends for the Cure Race. In keeping with the girl-power theme of the day, it’s a six-furlong sprint with retired female jockeys in the saddle. This is no mere jog around the track for a bunch of old women: The race draws ladies who were pioneers in the sport and puts them back in the saddle at break-neck speed. The roster for this May includes Patti Cooksey, the first woman to ride in the Preakness; Cheryl White, the first female African-American jockey; and Barbara Jo Rubin, who, in 1969, became the first woman to ever win a race in the United States. The Lady Legends riders join other jockeys in an autograph session before the day’s races start, an event that is big with fans.

Maryland’s own Andrea Seefeldt Knight will be in this year’s Legends race. The first woman to win the Pennsylvania Derby, Seefeldt Knight was the second female jockey to ride in the Preakness and the third to ride in the Derby. She retired in 1994 and says getting back in the saddle is no small feat. “What makes it worth two months of agony getting fit enough is the thrill of riding a race on a big day of racing with the crowd cheering us on,” she says. “It’s a chance to step back in time.”

Seefeldt Knight echoes the feelings of many horseracing insiders when she says, “Black-Eyed Susan Day is my favorite day of the two. It’s an exciting day with good racing and a great, family atmosphere. The top jockeys, owners, and trainers are there with some of the best horses in the country, and it’s not crazy crowded like Preakness.”

In Kentucky, the Oaks is hugely popular and an unofficial holiday in Louisville. More than 100,000 people attend and many schools and businesses close for the day. Gathagan says the plan is to continue to grow the Black-Eyed Susan, and he hopes some day a little of that local pride might catch on here in Baltimore.

“In Louisville, they always say the Oaks is for Kentucky and the Derby is for the rest of the country,” says Gathagan. “I think that’s something we might strive for here, too.”