THOROUGHBRED RACING : Past Glory Keeps This Pair Going

BALTIMORE —  They are the trainers of good 3-year-olds past. Charlie Hadry had Private Terms, one of the rare undefeated starters in the Kentucky Derby when he ran ninth as the favorite in 1988. Bill Donovan trained Lost Code, a sore-legged critter who won just about every Derby--Alabama, Illinois, Ohio and Minnesota--except the one in Kentucky in 1987.

Now they are at Pimlico, hacking out a living with a bunch of if-come horses while the 1991 Preakness passes them by. In times like these, Charlie Hadry and Bill Donovan need those happy memories of Private Terms and Lost Code to keep from unraveling.

The other morning here, Hadry was at the track apron early to see some of the leading candidates for Saturday’s Preakness work out. The 60-year-old trainer’s mind was elsewhere. The Maryland Racing Commission has a 30-day suspension hanging over his head, the result of a horse testing positive for cocaine after a race at Pimlico two months ago. Sound familiar?

For a crash course in what to do next, all Hadry has to do is walk over to the Preakness barn, where Wayne Lukas could tell him how he successfully quashed a similar charge in California a couple of years ago. The bill for Lukas’ lawyer was more than $100,000.

While Hadry was watching the Preakness hopefuls, Donovan was back at his barn, sitting on a bale of hay. When someone asked about Donovan’s wife, Donna, he said: “Give her a call. She’s home now. She’d like that.”

On the phone, Donna Donovan sounded good and upbeat. Last September, at a horse sale in Florida, she got a doozy of a headache. It was really an aneurysm on her brain, the size of an egg. There was surgery, and now there has been a long recovery period, with medical bills of more than $40,000.

“I’ve been through a lot of tough times,” Bill Donovan said. “But this with Donna is the worst thing I’ve ever had to go through.”

Blonde, brash Donna Donovan was as much a part of the Lost Code entourage as the gallant colt and her husband. They had come out of Charles Town, racing’s version of Class D baseball, and had hit the big time with this colt.

In 1988, Bet Twice barely beat Lost Code in the Pimlico Special after a fierce stretch battle. Pat Day, riding Lost Code, had claimed foul against the winner, but the stewards let the result stand.

While the stewards deliberated, Donna Donovan stood next to her husband, making threats of bodily harm if Lost Code didn’t get the victory.

Finally, an impatient Bill Donovan turned to her and said: “Will you shut up and act like a lady?”

“I’ll act like a lady, but I won’t shut up,” Donna Donovan said.

Bill Donovan, devastated by his wife’s illness, must still tend to business, and he’s dreaming big dreams again, like the time Lost Code got him out of Charles Town. “I’ve got 10 2-year-olds,” Donovan said. “Look for me next year.”

Charlie Hadry started training horses in 1955, and he’d had only one minor infraction all those years until this positive cocaine test hit him between the eyes. One of his grooms, who was handling a tongue tie that the horse used, tested positive for the drug, but Hadry has been victimized by that old bugaboo, racing’s absolute-insurer rule, which says the trainer is responsible for his horse, 24 hours a day.

“You have to have some kind of a rule,” Hadry said. “But shouldn’t a little common sense be used? I’ve been in this business a long time with a pretty good record. Why should I be doing anything now?”

The state gave Hadry a lecture, saying he should have been more careful about his hires.

“These people are licensed before they come to us,” Hadry said. “What’s the state doing, giving them licenses if there’s something wrong with them? That’s where the screening should start.”

Hadry has already had his day before the racing commission, and now he awaits the letter. “When the letter comes, I’m supposed to do my 30 days,” he said. “I don’t know if I’ll appeal. I’m thinking about it, but I don’t know.”

Before the morning was over, Charlie Hadry had other troubles. Drollery, a 3-year-old filly, was just starting a five-furlong workout when she broke down, throwing her jockey. Drollery, a daughter of Private Terms, Hadry’s big horse, had to be destroyed.

Hadry blamed the track. “It’s too hard,” he said. “People around here (Pimlico management) like to see track records, but it can be rough on the horses. The filly was a maiden, but she was bred nice and she was valuable.”