By Jim Litke
AP Sports Columnist

BALTIMORE - Forget for a second how masterful the Preakness win was. This is how smart a horse Smarty Jones really is: He made sure the easiest moments of jockey Stewart Elliott's week turned out to be the race itself.

"It didn't seem to matter where I was on the track, my horse was running so easy," Elliott said. "So I just took him inside and he did the rest."

Athletes in trouble talk all the time about how the field of play is their sanctuary. For the span of just under two minutes on a hot, hazy Saturday afternoon, Smarty Jones cut through the chaos reigning on every side of him and turned Pimlico Race Course into a safe haven for his rider.

The two weeks between the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness should have been time for Stewart to savor the biggest achievement of his career, to tell the story of how a 39-year-old jockey stuck in the bush-leagues doesn't lose faith with his sport, then gets his one shot at the big time and delivers beyond anyone's imagination.

That's how the post-Derby week began. Elliott went back to Atlantic City and Philadelphia and rode cheap mounts to pay back all the people who told him to never give up.

Then came news that Elliott had failed to disclose an assault charge on a form for Churchill Downs, an omission that cost him a $1,000 fine. Then came reports of another assault charge, and one of racing's most enchanting tales seem to be unraveling faster than the braid on a show horse's mane.

On the eve of the Preakness, Elliott confronted the whispers. He walked into the press box at Pimlico and stood before a dozen or so reporters. He took every question and answered each one by looking his questioner in the eye.

"I have nothing to hide. I've had a lot of personal problems and done some things that I'm not proud of," Elliott said. "But that's behind me. I want to just look ahead to the future. Hopefully, all that mess is behind me. All of what happened was because of the alcohol."

Elliott hasn't had a drink in nearly four years, he said, though he also admitted he hasn't been to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting in six months. You could almost say success has been getting in the way.

He climbed aboard Smarty Jones at the beginning of the prep races leading to the Kentucky Derby and won all six of those. And just when it seemed Elliott couldn't ride any better than he did at the Derby, he did.

Stalking Lion Heart just as he had at Churchill Downs, Elliott was content to let Smarty Jones dictate his own pace. And despite the wildly cheering crowd lining the rail and the thundering hooves behind him, Elliott never felt more in control. He knew heading into the far turn that all he had to do was get by Lion Heart and into the clear and the race was his.

Before the Derby, more than a few people would have argued that Elliott didn't belong on the same track as Lion Heart's jockey, Mike Smith. As it turned out, they only shared this one for a few moments and it was Elliott who taught his big-name counterpart the lesson.

Just when it seemed Smarty Jones' momentum might carry him too far wide to make up enough ground to grab the lead, Elliott took the undersized chestnut to the rail and left Smith and Lion Heart to deal with his dust.

Once he got the lead, the outcome was never in question.

"I peeked back and nobody was coming," Elliott said.

He had the whip ready in his hand, but there was no reason to use it.

"I never turned my stick over. I tapped him two or three times, just to let him know it was time to go," Elliott said, "and that was all he needed."

And a chance was all Elliott ever needed.

"When he was getting aboard my horse in the Kentucky Derby, I think somebody called him Stew Who? a novice rider," said Roy Chapman, Smarty Jones' 78-year-old owner. "Well you just heard a description of this race. If that sounds like a novice rider, I'll kiss your you-know-what."

A more apt comparison might be made with Red Pollard, the jockey whose story was told in the movie "Seabiscuit." Like Pollard, Elliott was willing to scrap and scrape for his chance, to climb aboard bad horses at even worse tracks because riding was the only thing he ever wanted to do.

Through injuries and his struggle with drinking, when he was racing for $400 purses at state fairs and stuck in a sweatbox just trying to make weight, Elliott never gave up. And just like Pollard, he has found the horse that made the fight worthwhile.

"I just think about the past and I look where I was and now, the future," Elliott said, letting out a low whistle. "Look where I am."

He's headed to New York with a chance at the Triple Crown, becoming the sixth jockey in eight years to take a shot at one of the most fabled achievements in sports. All of them were better known. But Elliott only has to be better than they were on one more Saturday afternoon to find out what it feels like when the game loves you every bit as much you love it.