By MIKE LOPRESTI
Gannett News Service

ELMONT, N.Y. - They came 120,000 strong, a wave of people to see the common man's horse make history. To celebrate over a thousand-pound animal that had somehow become a cult hero.

It was to be the day of days for a struggling sport. For one day anyway, America would watch a horse race, mostly because it was intrigued by the unbeaten magazine cover idol, this Rocky on hooves, it knew would win.

What was the button some of the customers were wearing at Belmont Park? "Smarty Jones for President."

But this is the Triple Crown, and if anyone didn't understand how hard that has become, they should now. Sentiment is a losing $2 ticket to throw on the floor. Fairy tales are for princesses, and suckers at the betting window. Not horses. This movie has no happy ending. It hasn't for 26 years.

Twelve strides from the wire. Maybe the last 50 yards of 1 1/2 miles. That's how close Smarty Jones was to winning the Belmont and first Triple Crown in 26 years Saturday, when a longshot named Birdstone ran him down.

Ever see 120,139 people look like they were just administered novocaine?

Even the winners were sad.

"I am very sorry I have to do my job ... this I what I get paid for" said Birdstone jockey Edgar Prado, sounding more like the captain of a firing squad.

"I feel happy and sad at the same time, because we are really looking for a champion."

Someone asked Smarty Jones trainer John Servis how much he hurt, on a scale of 1 to 10.

His answer: "564."

Time to update the numbers. Since Affirmed's Triple Crown in 1978, nine horses had won the Kentucky Derby and Preakness and failed in the Belmont Stakes.

Now make it 10, in the last eight years. You want a curse? Smarty Jones went off at 1-5 odds Saturday. Not even the Cubs or Red Sox have ever done that.

"As much as it hurts me to say, what you just saw is one of the things that makes this game so great," Servis said. "You can look like you have everything wrapped and you're heading into the winner's circle, and it doesn't always turn out that way."

We could tell you how the cars were lined up by 8:30 a.m. Saturday trying to get into the track, 10 hours before the race. Many of them with windows painted as if they were going to a high school soccer tournament. "Have Smarty," said one, "will party."

Or how the people in lawn chairs near the paddock, wearing the Smarty Jones caps, had left home in West Virginia at 3 a.m.

Or how the attendance of 120,139 smashed the old Belmont record by 17,000, and the noise that erupted when Smarty Jones took the track must have carried into the next area code.

All of that was part of the buildup. And then the shattered expectations.

Maybe we should have seen it coming. Two hours before the Belmont Stakes, while Smarty Jones placidly leaned out barn No. 5, a black cat ran by his stall.

Then an NBC cameraman's cell phone went off, with the tune from "The Godfather." And you know what happens to a horse in that movie.

Plus, Smarty Jones is a Philadelphia story, and we all know how Philadelphia stories tend to end. Badly. A parade of wannabes, forever chasing championships, and disappointing their cranky faithful.

"I'm a Philly sports fan," Servis said, "and all I can say to them is our championship was the Kentucky Derby, and if they can't accept that, then they need to take this road down the Triple Crown one time. They'll see where I'm coming from."

Three races, three tracks, three states, three distances, three fields, five weeks. It has become, for the moment, unassailable.

"We're starving for a Triple Crown winner," Servis said. "I think everybody thought this was the one, including myself."

But the fall of Smarty Jones redefines the task. The Triple Crown has never looked more daunting. The 11 horses who have done it, spaced across the 20th century, have never looked greater.

"You have to have a horse," said Smarty Jones jockey Stewart Elliott, "that can do just about anything."

At a souvenir stand, near the clubhouse, framed pictures of famous horses were being sold before the race. Secretariat was priced at $475. Smarty Jones at $700.

As darkness fell at Belmont Park, horse racing had been reminded it should be the other way around.