Person after person asked the same question: “How did he win that race?”

Journalism looked agitated from the moment he stepped onto the track at Pimlico Race Course before the 150th running of the Preakness Stakes. He whipped his head about, pushing his exercise rider to the dirt at one point.

Though he broke from the gate cleanly enough, he wasn’t moving with the alacrity he had two weeks earlier in the Kentucky Derby.

That was just the start of his troubles. As Journalism began his move to the front, lightly raced rival Goal Oriented came boring in from his right flank, shoving the even-money Preakness favorite into Clever Again, who was running to his left, along the rail.

A lesser horse would not have recovered from such a collision. Even jockey Umberto Rispoli, who’d spent the week gushing over Journalism’s talent and intelligence, thought he might not have enough time.

Trainer Michael McCarthy thought to himself: “I’m proud of the effort. He’s just going to come up a little bit short.”

Which was why patrons massed beside the finish line could not quite wrap their heads around the sight of Journalism rushing by Gosger with a few paces to spare.

How did he do it?

“He’s that great!” co-owner Aron Wellman bellowed, watching from the Pimlico dirt as the result became official.

What a sendoff for Pimlico as we know it — a stirring Preakness won by an unflappable champion making his case to be called the country’s best 3-year-old thoroughbred. Would it have been even better if Kentucky Derby champion Sovereignty had shown up after beating Journalism by 1 1/2 lengths at Churchill Downs?

Perhaps. But sometimes a great race with the right winner is reward enough.

“Journalism is a remarkable horse,” said Goal Oriented’s trainer, Bob Baffert, who has won the second jewel of the Triple Crown more than anyone. “We’ve seen him do that at Santa Anita, get in trouble and then come running. He knows where the wire is. That‘s a really good horse.”

McCarthy knew it. Rispoli knew it. Wellman knew it.

That was why Journalism’s loss in the Derby, where he went off as the favorite, stung so badly. McCarthy replayed the race in his head, regretting how far his horse fell off the pace over the first 100 yards. Rispoli, a 36-year-old Italian who didn’t start riding in the U.S. until 2019, tossed and turned through four sleepless nights afterward.

It takes more than a great horse to win these classic races. Luck plays its part, and Journalism’s connections wondered if their best chance at glory had eluded them.

McCarthy and Wellman did not commit immediately to coming back in two weeks for a shot at redemption, but they felt in their guts that Journalism would rise to a schedule challenge deemed too daunting for the vast majority of modern thoroughbreds.

His performance in Baltimore, overcoming so much, told them they had known their horse all along.

“He has validated what we thought about him,” McCarthy said when it was all over.

“He came back today and defied logic,” Wellman said.

Gosger finished second, a half-stride back. Sandman, one of only three Derby runners in the nine-horse field, placed third.

This Preakness Day needed a memorable race to elevate it.

There was no grand, final goodbye for Pimlico as we know it, certainly nothing that echoed the raucous infield festivities from decades past, when the Preakness was known almost as much for sloshed patrons racing across the tops of portable toilets as it was for brilliant on-track action.

The crowd filled in late despite splendid weather. The betting handle of $110 million was up from 2024, but the atmosphere did not crackle until the big race drew near. That after a week in which another horse’s absence overshadowed Journalism’s presence.

Sovereignty did not show up to occupy the traditional champion’s stall in the Preakness barn or to chase the first Triple Crown since 2018. No one doubted trainer Bill Mott when he said he was only trying to do what was best for his horse.

Without Sovereignty, however, the race lacked an obvious narrative hook, leaving those who care about the sport to debate, yet again, whether the Triple Crown calendar needs to be extended. With no central authority to force Maryland and New York officials to the negotiating table, that discussion has gone nowhere over the last decade.

Bulldozers will soon take the place of Preakness contenders as the state finally moves forward on plans to flatten worn-out Pimlico and replace it with something better, to the tune of $500 million in public funds. The middle jewel of the Triple Crown will move to Laurel Park next year and perhaps remain there in 2027 if the complex rebuild of Old Hilltop does not proceed on a wickedly tight schedule.

The homely old joint has certainly treated McCarthy well as he makes a late-bloomer bid to join fellow Preakness trainers Baffert, Steve Asmussen, Todd Pletcher and D. Wayne Lukas in the top tier of his profession.

McCarthy’s childhood home in Arcadia, California, was close enough to Santa Anita that he could hear the race calls from his front stoop. He apprenticed at the track while he took night classes at Cal Poly Pomona. After 11 years as an assistant to Pletcher, he went on his own in 2014 with a single horse from Wellman’s outfit, Eclipse Thoroughbred Partners.

McCarthy was already 50 years old when he saddled his first entrant in a Triple Crown race. That was Rombauer, who went off at 12-1 odds in the 2021 Preakness. He won.

“I thought to myself, ‘Well, that was easy,’” the understated trainer said. “But it‘s not.”

His experience at this year’s Derby, where for the first time in his career he felt the unique pressure of being favored in America’s most prestigious race, confirmed as much.

“It takes a special horse to get to these races,” he reflected after arriving at Pimlico with Journalism. “It takes a special horse to run in all three of them, let alone win all three.”

He could wrestle with that runner-up finish for the rest of his life, or he could get back to work, which was what McCarthy, and Journalism, did.

“That‘s what‘s great about racing,” he said. “If your horse stays healthy, you’re always going to have another shot at it.”

McCarthy doesn’t crack many smiles, not even when he’s receiving congratulatory pounds on the back from his closest associates after a defining victory. But the tears rimming his eyes as he hugged his daughter spoke to how deeply it all hit him.

This was the kind of horse you wait more than half your life to train.

Journalism had done this before, roaring back to win the Santa Anita Derby after traffic halted him coming into the homestretch.

But McCarthy couldn’t fathom a similar comeback in the Preakness as he watched that terrible jam-up coming off the far turn, which left Gosger free to pull away.

For all his faith in Journalism’s racing mind and Rispoli’s tactical acumen, he doubted.

Rispoli’s mind flashed back to the 2005 Preakness, when Afleet Alex fell almost to his knees after a rival swerved into his path, then rallied to win. As he approached the wire Saturday, he knew a similar comeback was on the table.

“I’m gonna be late,” the jockey thought, “but probably on time.”

What better way to put it at the end of a Preakness that brought a final honor note to Pimlico, which hosted so many unforgettable races even as it fell into disrepair?

Journalism’s father, Curlin, won the Preakness 18 years earlier. Now, the son put his stamp on Maryland’s signature race.

“I think he showed today he’s a gift from above,” McCarthy said.