Remembering the Great Allen Jerkens

Allen Jerkens was a legendary trainer, but even better, a legendary man. (Photos by Eclipse Sportswire)
Now the tears are for him.
The heart of the racing industry was shattered on Wednesday when H. Allen Jerkens passed away at the age of 85, leaving behind a legacy few in racing – or any other sport – can ever hope to match.
He was trainer with few peers. His career totals, as impressive as they may be (11th all-time in wins [3,859], 14th in earnings [$103,754,915]), do not tell the full story of the man. He was beloved in every corner of the sport, and more than that, he achieved a level of respect and admiration only a handful have ever approached.
Jerkens poured his heart and soul into his craft and his horses, and he represented the very best racing has to offer.
To see him in the winner’s circle with tears glistening in his eyes after a victory by one of his horses so powerfully expressed the bond he shared with his horses - both the stakes winners and the claimers.
The individual care and love he bestowed on each of his horses explains why Jerkens never had the fleet of horses common today among the sport’s leading trainers, or registered prolific seasonal win totals. Racing was his passion, not his business.
ALLEN JERKENS AT THE TRACK

When I was introduced to the sport as a New Yorker in the early 1970s, my Uncle Pat, a regular attendee at Aqueduct and Belmont Park, warned me to always respect Jerkens’ horses. He told tales of how Jerkens upset great champions like Kelso and Buckpasser in the 1960s.
My education on “The Giant Killer” became complete in 1973 when he defeated the immortal Secretariat with Onion and then Prove Out, two horses vastly inferior to the Triple Crown champion. They had no business even racing against Big Red. But they beat him – because they had Jerkens in their corner.
Back in those days, New Yorkers would rarely overlook a horse in Hobeau Farm’s silks of orange with light blue blocks with H.A. Jerkens listed as the trainer. Onion and Group Plan were the gold standard for him those days, but a personal favorite was a Hobeau sprinter named Duck Dance, who would return for lengthy layoffs as sharp as when he was last seen on the racetrack.
Jerkens’ only champion in a magnificent 65-year training career was Sky Beauty, the best older filly or mare of 1994. Yet that’s hardly a reflection of his work or work ethic. That he was elected to the sport’s Hall of Fame at the age of 45, and was the youngest person at that time to gain that honor, speaks much more eloquently on his behalf.
People who do not follow the sport might not understand the universal sorrow over the loss of a trainer who never won a Triple Crown or Breeders’ Cup race, this era’s measuring stick of greatness.    
Wins alone did not his define his greatness. His success at life, and making it better for those around him, mattered more.
He was H. Allen Jerkens.
That’s all you have to say – as you shed a tear.