The Greatness Of D. Wayne Lukas Could Not Be Measured Just With Numbers

Barely six weeks ago, the incomparable trainer D. Wayne Lukas could be seen perched on a slow-moving pony in the barn area at Pimlico Race Course, overseeing his fleet of thoroughbreds.

Lukas seemed caught in a time warp. Though pushing 90, he remained reasonably dedicated and energetic. Still rising as early as 3:30 a.m., reporting for work an hour later and hopping into a saddle. Trading jabs with his peer and pal, Bob Baffert. Holding court with other trainers. Filling the notebooks and tape recorders of media members.

It was inconceivable to most observers that the finish line could be fast approaching.

On Sunday, it arrived. Just seven days after the family announced that he would retire and enter home hospice care in Louisville, Kentucky, with a severe blood infection that they chose not to aggressively treat, Lukas died at age 89.

The legacy of many stars in sports is measured primarily with numbers, and there is no shortage to place Lukas on the Mount Rushmore of American horse trainers. 

Fifteen victories in Triple Crown races, 20 more in the Breeders’ Cup Championships. Four Eclipse awards as essentially the trainer MVP. Fourteen times the nation’s frontrunner in earnings. Just north of $30 million in purses collected and only 47 shy of 5,000 trips to the winner’s circle. 

Yet his impact on the sport is best reflected by how he revolutionized it.

A true game changer

Well-educated with a master’s degree in education, he was the first trainer on a high level to operate CEO-like. He flitted about on a corporate jet to train and check on his far-flung runners. He meticulously decorated his barns with white picket fences and fresh paint, even growing the ubiquitous flowers himself.

He was not shy about tapping into the resources of deep-pocketed owners who would buy and entrust him with an elite crop. Some trainers tend to be hesitant about entering horses in races where they may face long odds, but not Lukas, who addressed the topic just last month, days before his American Promise wound up second-to-last in the Preakness.

A Wayne-ism that he often repeated: “You can’t win it if you’re not in it.”

Early in his career, his aggressive approach drew criticism when he was reputed to have intensely trained and run horses that were not fully fit or dealing with niggling ailments. He was hardly alone, this being an era when their health and fitness was far less monitored than today.

But his legions of defenders can point to a particular horse that illustrates his care for them.

In 1993, the rambunctious two-year-old Tabasco Cat got loose while in training. Lukas’ assistant jumped in front of the horse to compel him to stop and to protect others. The assistant was Wayne’s lone son, Jeff. 

A collision ensued, leaving Jeff with a fractured skill and a brain injury from which he never completely recovered. Comatose for more than a month and somewhat incapacitated thereafter, he died 20 years later.

The typical trainer — and, perhaps, person — would have disassociated himself with Tabasco Cat. Lukas continued prepping him for his 3-year-old campaign.

“You can’t blame the horse,” he explained. “I never did. The animosity toward that horse in the barn was apparent, so I called them all together and I said, ‘We’re gonna see if we can take this horse all the way to the Triple Crown.’” 

Sure enough, they teamed to claim the Preakness and the Belmont Stakes following a sixth in the Kentucky Derby.

A true love of the horses

Lukas’ love of, or devotion to, the animals might have gotten in the way of rapport with people. He had five wives and accepts some blame for unfulfilled wedded bliss.

“I’ve been married to these horses for a long time,” he once said, “and I thought I could blend in a [spousal] relationship. But that hasn’t been the case.”

He did display a human touch with young patrons at the tracks. Ever an ambassador for his sport, Lukas in recent years would randomly invite a child to join him in the winner’s circle after his victories, allowing the guest to pose for the celebrating owners’ photograph and offering to purchase a copy for the youngster.

To the public, longevity likely will be the cornerstone of his legacy. Lukas plied his trade for so long that he was elected to the National Racing Hall of Fame in the previous century. Before taking up thoroughbreds, he trained quarter-horses — and joined its hall of fame in 2007, the first person elected to both.

Having grown up on a farm in Wisconsin when pari-mutuel wagering there was illegal, Lukas arrived late to the game. He taught high school and served as head basketball coach for nearly a decade.

Around the barns and on the backside, he was commonly called “The Coach,” though the nickname stems more from how he coached up several assistant trainers. The accomplished Todd Pletcher, Mike Maker, Mark Hennig, Kiaran McLaughlin, and Dallas Stewart would make a formidable starting five, with a strong set of reserves standing by.

Lukas last smiled for a winner’s circle photo on June 12, 17 days before he died, with Tour Player. The horse was bred by and handed to him by his friend Baffert, the only U.S. trainer past or present — likely future, too — whose achievements can compare.