Our pilgrimage to Pimlico was made in haste. We neglected to bring binoculars. We were conspicuously short on cash.

Everything we knew about horse racing could have been printed on a postage stamp. Everything we knew about the Preakness was that it was held somewhere in Baltimore.

But we had the wheels, the will and a driving curiosity about a 3-year-old colt. Freshly sprung from our freshman year of college, Brad and I journeyed to Pimlico for a first-hand glimpse of greatness. We wanted to see Secretariat.

Thirty-one years since that Triple Crown spring of 1973, some of the same fascinating forces are again at work. Smarty Jones has captured the imagination of people who couldn't tell a thoroughbred from a plowhorse.

He was the first Kentucky Derby winner in two decades to crack the cover of Sports Illustrated. His dynamic Preakness performance last Saturday generated the race's highest television ratings since 1990. His Triple Crown potential and considerable crossover appeal augurs a blowout Belmont.

Yet whatever boost Smarty Jones brings racing this year is likely to be brief. The economics of the equine industry dictate that most of the best colts move from the track to the breeding shed at the peak of their fame.

It didn't happen last year (Funny Cide is a gelding) and it may not happen here. Smarty Jones' owners have said they wish to race the colt as a 4-year-old, but the financial argument for the stud farm is persuasive. Even before Secretariat was syndicated for $6,080,000 in advance of his Triple Crown campaign, the serious money in racing was in breeding.

"Horses don't hang on long enough for the racing game to maximize the benefit of the Triple Crown," said Dan Smith, spokesman for the Del Mar Thoroughbred Club. "The tail kind of wags the dog. They can make a lot of money at stud without the risk of getting hurt on the racetrack. It would be like your top pro football quarterback playing two or three years and then being gone."

Should Smarty Jones complete the Triple Crown on June 5 and extend his unbeaten record to nine races, his career racing earnings would reach a record $13 million. But his potential value as a sire is probably a multiple of that amount, with a significantly smaller risk of injury.

"We were just talking about what the horse could be syndicated for," said Gary Jones, twice Del Mar's leading trainer. "He'll probably have 100 mares a year for the first three years. Probably stand for $100,000 or up. That's $10 million a year before he (could sire) a winner. If you could buy the horse for $30 million, you'd (recoup the investment) in three years before you had to prove yourself."

In a business where the occasional windfall doesn't always cover an investor's long-term losses, Gary Jones can appreciate the argument for cashing in. As a horseman fearful for his sport's future, however, he would much prefer that Smarty Jones remain in competition.

"If he can win the Triple Crown, it's a Seabiscuit-type story," Gary Jones said. "A Seattle Slew story. It's a rebirth for the game." Even more than baseball, the track appeals to an aging demographic. Once the only form of legal gambling in many locales, racing is now overrun with competition from casinos and state lotteries. Today's statistically acute risk-taker is more likely to speculate on equities than equine investments.

The advent of intertrack wagering has kept handles healthy, but the core audience is crumbling. When a horse transcends racing's narrow niche and draws first-timers to the track, it fills the whole industry with hope.

"Even the people who have other horses (in the Belmont), if you put them on sodium pentothal, they'd want Smarty Jones to win," Gary Jones said. "The game needs it so bad.

"The game has gone downhill because of intertrack wagering. They've done everything to drive people away from the racetrack. You go out there and the youngest guy you've got out there is 40 or 50."

Last year's Del Mar meet averaged 29,494 spectators combined on and off-track, the highest daily attendance of any track in America. Yet that figure was more than 8,000 short of the track's 1990 daily average.

If racing is to rebuild its customer base, it could sure use a Secretariat-sized boost.

"I know from my history in publicity that when you bring out the stars, the people come out to see those horses," Smith said. "Smarty Jones is a star."