Keeping Jockeys In the Saddle
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.
It was less than an hour until the races and the young jockey – one of the best in the country – was frantic.
He had a mount in almost every race at Belmont that day, the purses were a little higher than usual because of some rich-stakes races, and he was near tears because there was something wrong with one of his knees.
“He came running into the back with his pants down around his ankles and saying, ‘Help me, there’s something wrong and I’ve got to ride today,’ ” says Robert Ringston, one of two people with the somewhat improbable job of being a sports massage therapist at New York’s thoroughbred race tracks. For the jockeys, not the horses.
“I don’t remember exactly what it was,” Mr. Ringston says. “There was some muscle strain and spasms; there was definitely some discomfort there. We put him right on the table and started working on him. No drugs, just good, deep – fast – muscle therapy.”
Did it work?
“He went out and won the first three races that day,” Mr. Ringston says with a smile. “I’d like to think we had a little something to do with that.”
Most days in the therapy room at the Aqueduct, Belmont, and Saratoga aren’t that dramatic. But the jockeys – those 110-pound people who ride 1,200-pound animals at speeds of up to 40 mph with nothing to hold them on except their ability to balance themselves – have come to rely on Mr. Ringston, 31, and the other therapist, Mike Farella, to keep them going.
“Those guys in the back were very instrumental in getting me ready to ride again,” says veteran rider Mike Luzzi, who suffered a potentially career-ending injury in a race at Saratoga last July but was back riding races four months later. “They’re pretty incredible.”
Mr. Ringston grew up across the street from Belmont in Elmont, L.I., so he always had an appetite for horse racing.
“It’s the best, most dramatic two minutes in sports,” says the husky body builder with a crew cut who was probably too big to be a jockey before he hit his teens.
“It’s a whole world unto itself and I found that fascinating,” he says. “I was always interested in sports and sports massage therapy, so it’s not that strange that I would end up doing something at the race track.”
A graduate of the Swedish Institute of Massage Therapy, he found a job at the track because one of his clients happened to be Tom Durkin, NYRA’s main track announcer. “He said they needed someone one day a week,” says Mr. Ringston, a state-licensed massage therapist. “Then another slot opened up and it became a full-time job.”
The hours can be long and the pace can be extremely hectic – much to his delight. “We come in pretty early in the morning because some of the jockeys exercise horses in the mornings, starting at 6 a.m. or earlier,” Mr. Ringston says. “By the time we get here, that is mostly done and we start getting them ready for the day.”
They do it mostly by 30-minute appointments – with the occasional emergency disrupting things. Most of the jockeys use their services. “A few years ago, a lot of jocks didn’t do it,” he says. “They thought it was weird. It’s become pretty mainstream now.”
The session includes deep massages and is often done in conjunction with trips to the steam room and light exercise or calisthenics.
“We had one jockey who had a string of injuries,” Mr. Ringston says. “Every week, it was a different thing. He had muscle strains, spasms, flexibility problems. We worked on him for about three months, using strength training techniques, isometric exercise, and massage.
“Look, these guys have the most dangerous jobs in sports. Every day of the week, they can fall off a horse and get badly hurt. It takes a lot of things to get an injured jockey back to the races,” he says. Mr. Luzzi, one of the best jockeys in the business, is a case in point. “It happened this past July at Saratoga,” he says. “It was the first day, the first race, and the first turn. The rein broke, which means I had no steering and no brakes. I hit the fence and came off the horse at about 40 mph.”
He broke a femur. Doctors inserted a 12-inch rod in his leg and put two screws into the bone. After recovering from surgery, he underwent 13 weeks of physical therapy.
“Bob Ringston and Mike Farella were great,” he says. “They got me ready with stretching and massage and helped get me back to 100%. I never would have made it all the way back without them. No way.”