Horse’s Pursuit of Nuns’ $12,500 Isn’t So Trivial

LOUISVILLE, Ky. — Meet Joe Cornacchia. Joe is 58. He’s the character over there in the straw hat, red blazer, blue pants and beige loafers. The guy with the crooked grin on his ruddy face. The guy who owes $12,500 to 100 nuns.

Joe runs a diaper business. Used to run a printing business. Did some printing work for parlor games such as Scrabble and Pictionary. He lives in Woodmere, N.Y., near the Belmont race track, where he and his buddies also are volunteer firemen.

A decade ago or so, Joe was contacted on behalf of some Canadians who had created a new game. Joe asked what the game was called. The guy said: “Trivial Pursuit.” He asked if Joe might like to join the other independent contractors bidding to print up their question-and-answer cards. Joe said first he would have to see the game for himself.

A few friends and their wives were invited to Joe’s house. Food was served. The Trivial Pursuit board was unfolded. Joe rolled the die. Then the phone rang. It was the fire department. Joe and his fellow volunteers were to drop whatever they were doing and rush to the station house.

They got back at 1:30 in the morning. Opened the door to Joe’s home. And there, hours later, were all the wives, still engrossed in Trivial Pursuit.

“Oh, my! We got a winner here!” Joe said.

He bid for the job. Trivial Pursuit hired his firm to print up its cards.

Twenty-five million of them.

Joe had a winner here.

Nine months ago, another associate asked Joseph M. Cornacchia if he would like a piece of a pie. Asked if Joe might like to invest in a three-way thoroughbred horse syndicate. Cash-poor Calumet Farm was selling six yearlings and a two-year-old chestnut. Strictly a package deal--seven horses, $3 million. Joe’s friends Giles Brophy, 53, and Bill Condren, 57, were interested. How about Joe?

As usual, Joe needed to know more. He asked what the colt was called. The guy said: “Strike The Gold.” The guy also said: “He’s Alydar’s son.” Joe needed to know no more. He knew nothing about horse racing. But even he had heard of Alydar.

Count me in, Joe said.

He got 33 1/3% of the horse. The yearlings, too. He called his friend, Sister Paulette, to give her the news. She runs the Sisters of Good Shepherd home for children--abused kids, AIDS-stricken kids. Joe helps out the 100 nuns there whenever he can.

From October on, Strike The Gold ran six times. Won once. But he ran second Feb. 23 to Cahill Road, one of the early favorites for the Kentucky Derby. That got Joe excited. His horse, now three years old, was worthy of Churchill Downs, just like his dad. He called Sister Paulette, told her he would place a bet on Alydar’s son for the nuns.

Joe visited Las Vegas. Early Derby odds on Strike The Gold were 25-1. Joe put $500 on him to win.

In mid-March, he went to the Florida Derby at Gulfstream, one of the big Kentucky Derby preps. Joe desired something suitable to wear for a day at the races. In Palm Beach, he bought two hats. One was made of straw. The other was a sombrero. It had a red band, with gold horseshoes.

“The sombrero made me look like a screwy fool,” Joe said.

Joe wore the scarlet coat, the blue slacks and the beige loafers with the straw boater. Watched Strike The Gold chase a very fast horse, Fly So Free, to the wire. Second again. He was Alydar’s son, all right. A bridesmaid in a bridle, but never a bride.

“I decided to give my outfit one more chance,” Joe said.

On April 13, he accompanied Brophy, Condren and their colt to the quaint Keeneland race course in Lexington, Ky., for a rematch with Fly So Free at the Blue Grass Stakes.

Joe had a winner here.

Thrilled with the second victory of Strike The Gold’s career, Joe wondered just how fast this horse was. “I don’t know anything about horse racing,” he said. “Nothing.”

His trainer, Nick Zito, watched the horse’s workout Friday and advised Joe: Bet the ranch on him.

Joe reminded the nuns that he already had made a sizable bet: “They said they’d be praying for us.”

He came to Churchill Downs for Saturday’s 117th running of the Kentucky Derby in his lucky outfit.

“Same hat, same underwear, same socks, same everything,” he said. “Thank God, I didn’t have to wear the sombrero.”

Strike The Gold acted up in the gate. Reared up a little. He was as anxious as his owner.

The jockey, Chris Antley, got caught in close quarters between horses nearing the end of the backstretch. He angled outside. Angel Cordero, aboard Quintana, called out: “How much horse you got there?” Antley called back: “I got a good bit of horse here!”

Joe Cornacchia watched through his binoculars. He fidgeted. He paced. Strike The Gold made his move. Circled the leaders on the far turn. Zoomed by like they were standing still.

Joe had a winner here.

Strike The Gold paid $11.60 to win.

“I owe the nuns twelve-five!” Joe said.

He said he’d bet another $500 for them on the Preakness.

“You know, when I bought this horse, I made a promise,” Joe said. “I promised if I ever won the Triple Crown, I’d retire from horse racing forever.

“This might be the shortest racing career anybody’s ever had.”