LEXINGTON, Ky.—On a sun-splashed bluegrass afternoon, Eric Reed stood in his clocker’s stand racing office on the turn of the training oval at his farm on the outskirts of the city. Sitting was not a good option after the 57-year-old hurt his back last Saturday—the day he crumpled to the ground in the Churchill Downs paddock after winning the Kentucky Derby in a once-a-century upset. Reed tweaked his lower back something fierce in that overwhelming moment.
So he stood as he talked to a visitor. A sign outside the shack said, “Talk Derby To Me,” and that’s what Reed did, reliving the glory of Rich Strike striking it rich in the Run for the Roses at 80-1 odds. On his desk was a bag of chili-cheese Fritos and a few empty soda bottles. There also were bottles of Raid insect spray to keep the wasps at bay. “With this, I’m Clint Eastwood,” Reed said, grabbing a bottle. “Without it, I’m scared of ‘em.”
