LINDA Rice stood alone on the clubhouse stairs and took a deep breath. With a raincoat draped over her left forearm and her papers pinned to her chest, Rice breathed that great sigh of elation and relief, the one that only a horse trainer at Saratoga knows.

“I was just thrilled. You know?” Rice said. “We’ve had a bit of a trying meet trying to get these turf horses to perform on this soft ground, so I’m just thrilled that at least someone liked it.”