LOUISVILLE, Ky. _ He's unmistakable. The white hair. The sunglasses. The dark blue jacket commemorating American Pharoah, the exhilarating splash of water that quenched a nagging, 37-year Triple Crown thirst in 2015.
Bob Baffert darts in and out of Barn No. 33 at Churchill Downs like Billy in an old Family Circus cartoon. That's him, a mind and motor racing at high RPM despite an aw-shucks grin and storm-be-damned calm shaped inside cowboy boots in dusty Nogales, Ariz.
The difference: Horse racing's most recognized name and face, arguably its greatest trainer of all time, finds himself with time and unusual room to roam _ at least by his sky-high Kentucky Derby standards.
This will be a Baffert-less Derby _ just the fifth since his breakthrough in 1996 _ because potential favorite Mastery suffered a condylar fracture to the left front ankle after romping to a win in the San Felipe Stakes on March 11.
A giggling gang of nine women approached Baffert's barn Wednesday, clutching blue plastic cups filled with who-knows-what as the morning prepared to hit the stretch run.
One blurted: Who do you have in the Derby?
Baffert: I have nothing.
Another woman: Really?
Baffert: Yeah, you'll have to go see (Derby trainer) Todd Pletcher. If I had a horse, I'd be too nervous to talk to you. And what the hell are you guys drinking? I guess it's 5 o'clock somewhere, right?
That's Baffert, an affable and jarringly approachable magnet. Scores seek him out. The hardcore fans. The fringe fans. The rivals. Those who know his name. Those who vaguely recognize his face. They all clamor for a piece of him, whether it's a signature or picture or handshake.
In a sport relegated to mainstream America's back burner 362 days a year, Baffert is a front-burner guy.
Sheik Mohammed, the ruler of Dubai, stood bedside at the hospital after Baffert's heart attack in 2012. He considered George Steinbrenner, the acerbic late owner of the New York Yankees, a friend. He's met enough American leaders to rank them, calling Bill Clinton "the coolest" U.S. President. He guesses that he's thrown 10 first pitches at baseball games.
So a Derby without the hair and the sunglasses feels, well, odd.
"TV will miss him," said Jerry Bailey, the Hall of Fame jockey and NBC analyst. "There'll still be a great race and a great Kentucky Derby winner and everybody will be excited but, yeah, you lose a big storyline without Bob."
Baffert nicknamed jockey Mike Smith "Big Money Mike" earlier in his career. That happened before Smith rode the trainer's horse Arrogate to a pearl string of wins in the sport's richest races _ the Breeders' Cup Classic, the Pegasus World Cup and the Dubai Classic.
Smith said Baffert transcends horse racing.
"Without a doubt," said Smith, who also guided Arrogate to a dominant Travers Stakes victory. "Everyone knows 'the white-haired guy.' "
