8:57: The mini-mob of fans, television and print reporters, not to mention the four helicopters hovering overhead, has assembled outside the backstretch gates at Philadelphia Park and is ready to spring into action. Any minute now, the great horse will leave the building known reverently as "The Pha" and I, armed with a notebook, tape recorder and a full tank of gas that cost $38 freaking dollars, am primed for action.

9:24: The van carrying the great horse exits the gates, which means it's time for a dead sprint to my car. No more interviewing John Q. Public/Racing Fan, I must follow that horse.

9:26: The line following the four-footed equine royalty is quite long, but I am not discouraged. I cut brazenly in front of another car and secure a spot just two cars behind the van carrying this wonderful being. Just one problem...I have cut off a cop.

9:27: The single most menacing human being I have ever seen in my life--bald guy, ugly, 18-inch scar across the top of his head--steps out of his car, glares and pulls me over. "Mister, you just cut off a cop," he snarls. "I'll make sure you don't follow that horse now." This guy makes murderers want their mommies.

9:29: My head is swirling. Three minutes into the assignment and I am doomed. What do I tell the office? How can I explain such failure? Wait, Smarty, wait. Then again, what about the menacing cop? What exactly is the penal system in Bensalem, Pennsylvania?

Inmate 156673346: What are you in for?

Me: Obstructing a police officer during the transportation of a horse.

Inmate 156673346: You disgust me.

9:31: Menacing cop gets tired of playing with me and let's me go. Probably has some serious criminals to go slap around. Driver, follow that horse.

9:35: Unbelievable. I have caught the magnificent beast, thanks in large part to the slowest police escort in recorded history. Led by three motorcycle cops, the procession heads up Route 1 and on to the Pennsylvania Turnpike. They are going 40 miles per hour and have blocked off the left lane so that nobody dare pass the esteemed thoroughbred. Keep this up and traffic will be backed up to North Carolina.

9:45: The four helicopters are still hovering over head, capturing every thrilling moment of a white horse van inching its way east on the Pa. Pike. We have just passed a billboard reading, "Look out New York, Smarty's Coming." The sirens are blaring. Five car loads of reporters, myself included, are following every move. The readers have a right to know: if they stop for lunch, will it be McDonald's Or Burger King?...will stable foreman Bill Foster require a restroom break?...does the van take regular or high test?

Then again, does anyone realize he is, dare I say it, just a horse? Blasphemous as this may sound, is this or is this not a little silly.

9:50: Who says New Jersey isn't a great place? The Bensalem cops hand the chestnut god off to two New Jersey State Police patrol cars who will take him the bulk of the journey up the Jersey Turnpike, the world's smelliest road. They actually go the speed limit of 65 and let cars pass on the left. We might get to Belmont before Friday just yet.

9:54: Things have settled down. There's just one helicopter over head. Channel 104 has the exclusive: Smarty Jones has made it to the Garden State.

11:02: Blood-Horse writer Steve Haskin, gallantly keeping up the chase himself, breaks down. No kidding. He comes to a sudden halt in the left lane, with me right behind him. It was just like a horse race. I had to check, take up sharply and alter course. With Daily Racing Form photographer Mike Marten riding shotgun, Haskin veers his SUV across three lanes over into the breakdown lane as dozens of irate motorists say awful things about his mother. Should I stop to help him or continue the chase?

11:03: Steve who?

11:15: Jay Hovdey from the Racing Form is an animal. Hovdey was the only guy not smart enough to bring along an EZ Pass (yes, Smarty uses EZ Pass). That means he can either run the tolls and keep up with the fleet-footed one or wait in interminable toll lines and risk losing him. Heading off the Jersey Turnpike on the way to the George Washington Bridge, Hovdey runs his eighth toll of the trip.

11:22: New Jersey's finest hand Pegasus off to two New York State Troopers and a NYPD patrol car on the George Washington Bridge. They elect to go straight and stay on the Cross Bronx Expressway. Are they mad? The Cross Bronx hasn't been clear of traffic since 1985. Yet, there's not an obstruction in his sight. He flies across the Cross Bronx in no time. This horse is truly blessed.

11:40: After exiting on Hillside, the van takes a right on Springfield. I don't make the light. One hundred miles into the trip, I can't be stopped now. Oh, fudge. No red light will stop me.

11:42: Having committed still another crime in order to follow a small van carrying an animal for 105 miles for reasons I still don't fully understand, I have rejoined the procession.

11:44: A left on Hempstead. Belmont is just ahead.

11:48: Smarty Jones has arrived safe and sound at Belmont Park, with this reporter just three car lengths behind. Hallelujah.