Steady Hand On The Rein One-Time Jockey Phenom Stephens Now Rides With Top Trainers At Playfair

A dozen years ago his life was as fast as his horses.

Todd Stephens was the hot jock at Playfair Race Course, an overnight success with the foresight of a teenage record-breaker.

He thought it’d never end.

Today at 31, he’s in the racing business from another angle, as a thoroughbred trainer sweating out with every other horseman his industry’s depression.

But he’s winning again and it’s almost better this way. There’s a deeper appreciation to it since his career rose out of the ashes.

Nineteen months ago, he lost 20 horses in a barn fire at his ranch near Colbert. The cost was staggering.

The $150,000 structure was uninsured, Stephens said. As critical was the unrealized potential of the horses.

Runners are in demand everywhere. The incident exacerbated two perennial problems - short fields and overworked stock.

“Replacing 20 head in this business, in this town, was tough,” Stephens said on a frosty morning on the back side of the Spokane track. “I lost a couple of real nice 3-year-olds, and a couple nice 2-year-olds that you just don’t replace overnight.”

Cause of the fire was undetermined, he said.

“They never did figure out how it started,” said Stephens. “I fed about 4 o’clock, like I always did, had dinner and went to sleep about 7:30. I woke up at midnight.

“You could see it burning at one end. I ran around the other end of it - it was about 160 feet long - and opened the sliding doors, figuring I could get the horses out the other end.”

When Stephens slid open the door, the smoke belched out, thick and killing.

“I knew right away everything in there was dead,” he said. “Asphyxiated. There was nothing I could do.”

Three of the 20 animals belonged to him, the others to clients.

Stephens worked through the tragic interruption. With a strong summer meet at Yakima Meadows and a good fall here this is his best year since he quit riding.

“It’s not just because I’m winning more,” said Stephens, who’s third in Playfair’s trainer standings with 11 wins, behind Ray Tracy Jr. and the on-fire Bruce Wagar, who leads with 20. “Purses are higher. You get more per start and we’re getting the opportunity to run.

“When most people came in here they didn’t figure they’d get to run their horses more than three-four times. I’ll guarantee you that horses that have been here will start seven-eight times, or more. And instead of getting $700 or $800 for the win you get $1,300 or $1,400. A lot of people didn’t think they could make money in a 50-day meet, but if you look at it, they’re probably making more.”

Still, the new track in Auburn to open in late spring beckons, with its promise of higher purses and better horses.

Better horses, bigger audiences, success.

The formulas aren’t complicated.

Too few horses make for short fields, low payoffs, lagging interest, depression.

“As soon as the track over there goes up they’ll start breeding more horses, which the whole state needs,” Stephens said. “If they don’t start breeding more horses there won’t be any track in the state that’ll run successfully.

“There aren’t enough horses right now. Even the Emerald meet (the state’s summer season in Yakima) didn’t have enough toward the end of the season.

“The winter meet (scheduled to start in December in Yakima) is going to be terrible. That’s going to be a bad meet. It’ll be just like here. Tough.”

The demand on fit and available horses is too high.

“Tracks want to run all year long,” Stephens said. “Five years ago you ran seven months. We’ve had a decrease in the horse population since then and now they want to run year-round. It tears up the horses. They never get a break, cheap horses, especially.”

Stephens is looking forward to the jump-start affect the new track should have on breeding, buying, selling and competing.

“If I want to stay in it I have to go over there,” he says, meaning Auburn Downs. “I can’t stay here. Even if things were the way they were 15 years ago, I’d still have to be over there. That’s where you’ll have a shot at making some money.”

Making it was easy when Stephens was coming of age. He set a Playfair record with 131 wins in 1983 that stood for a couple of years, roughly the duration of his peak.

He moved to Longacres, but by ‘86 he was back in Spokane, growing out of his profession.

He rode seven years. He was through at 24.

“You’re 17 and making good money and all of a sudden it all comes to an end,” the 5-foot-9, 170-pound trainer said. “I just got tired of dieting all the time. I couldn’t stand it any more.”

It took a while to renew the competitive edge. When his dad, Ted, died in 1990, Todd was searching.

“Dad always took care of me,” he said, leaning back in a lawn chair in his tack room. “He and I got real close. If I ever needed anything he was always there for me. About a year after he passed away, I figured, shoot, I better get out and start doing things on my own.”

In ‘91, he worked for trainer Clay Brinson, starting a slow but steady rise as a conditioner.

Stephens’ rider of choice, Marty Wentz, is part of his growing success, but the trainer puts most of the credit where it belongs.

“Better horses,” he said. “I’ve got better stock. Last year I had horses that didn’t quite make it.”

Some in his stable of 20 are naturally competitive. Others are lazy and dumb.

“I’ve got a few that are both,” Stephens laughed. “The dumb ones always seem to do something wrong to get themselves left or get themselves beat.

“The good horses do the right thing. They’re in the right spot. They break good and run for you.”

The good horse handles adversity. He doesn’t quit.

Just like the good trainer.

Enduring the worst, an ordeal by fire, and coming back better in spite of it has a weathering affect.

Todd Stephens, one-time phenom, has grown up.

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: 2 Photos (1 Color)