Tough attitude, hard work keep Ray Schnittker in racing's fast lane
Though standing only 5-foot-7, Ray Schnittker, 44, is a noteworthy
presence whether in the paddock at Yonkers or The Meadowlands, or
coordinating the 40 or so horses he handles between his racing and
breeding operations.

The bay colt paced hotly toward the gate, as his driver leaned back
in the bike to maintain some assemblance of control.
It was the morning of June 2, 1999, and the 2-year-olds were lining
up for what was for many their first trip to the post. Nine freshmen
were in the seventh qualifier on the balmy spring day, but it was the
one far on the outside who drew the most notice.
Mattna Carter shot forward as the gate wings folded. He had five
lengths on the field by the time he passed the first quarter. By the
half his lead was 10 lengths, and he opened up to 15 around the final
turn. He had nearly 20 lengths on his rivals by the time he tripped
the timer for the very first time in his life. His mile time: 1:53.4.
Many drivers might have been strung up for rocketing a 2-year-old
around the track and breaking 1:54 before the colt had the chance to
even earn a penny. This colt, however, was steered by Ray Schnittker,
and that meant most people in attendance were more inclined to shrug
their shoulders, all figuring, "That's just Ray."
Schnittker is not unlike many of his horses. Considered a bit high-
strung and hard to handle, he nonetheless has the talent, commitment
and horsemanship skills to turn challenging performers into
champions.
From Armbro Plato to Armbro Trick to 2002 sensation Game Of Skill--
who trotted in 1:53.2 in April, before most other sophomore trotters
had even made a start--Schnittker has sent a plethora of horses to
the sport's peak as both their driver and trainer. He has found his
success with some unconventional methods, and an "If-they-can't-take-
a-joke-the-hell-with-them" attitude that makes him one of the sport's
feistiest performers.
"I always get some wise[guy] who asks me what the hell I think I'm
doing," said Schnittker, his face brightening up with an infectious
smile. "I say, 'If I'm so stupid, why do I have so much money?' That
usually shuts 'em up."
"I know people say I'm nuts--they won't say it to my face, but I know
what they say. But I think a lot of breeders like when I get their
horses, because they know I'm going to get them to the races. I'm
going to give them a shot."
Though standing only 5-foot-7, Schnittker, 44, is a noteworthy
presence whether in the paddock at Yonkers or The Meadowlands, or
coordinating the 40 or so horses he handles between his racing and
breeding operations.
He will be the first one to tell you that the two horses he lined up
for the Hambletonian--Armbro Plato in 1997 and Armbro Trick in 2000--
both qualified "like crap." He proudly suggests an interviewer "look
up my record" through the USTA Fines and Suspensions system to get an
idea of the ruckus he may rouse.
Schnittker's fellow drivers know when they race against Ray that most
often he will be heading for the front end--come hell or high water.
His dark eyes sparkle as much with mischief as they do with a keen
interest in the horses he observes. His wit and tongue sting like a
snapped whip, and he is not afraid to tell anyone what he thinks on
any given topic--even if that topic is the person standing before
him.
He admits to enjoying a drink and a party as much as the next guy,
but never lets his good times interfere with the hard work he know it
takes to get to--and stay at--the top of the business.
"I do the business the way I want to do it," said Schnittker. "I
never really worked for anybody. I just watched guys that were
successful and tried to do what they did--but also do it my own way."
"Ray loves to have fun--he's just a good-feeling guy that is good-
natured, but he takes his racing very seriously," said fellow
reinsman Ron Pierce, who has known Schnittker more than 15
years. "I'll tell you, he's an excellent horsemen and a good friend--
and if I'm ever in a bar fight, I want him on my side."
Schnittker joined the business through his father, Warren, who had a
dairy farm in their hometown of Buffalo, N.Y. An avid rider from his
earliest days, young Ray tried factory work making radiators when he
first graduated from high school. At the same time, he saved for two
years to buy his first horse, whom he trained at night.
The longer he worked at the radiator factory, the more he hated it,
prompting him to try the horse business full-time.
"I figured that if I could make enough money to buy a couple decent
ones, then I'd keep doing it full-time," he said. "If I couldn't, I'd
go back to school. I didn't want to work in a factory the rest of my
life. That really stunk."
Schnittker ended up parlaying his one horse into a few claimers who
did well on the New York circuit. In 1980 he bought the yearling Bye
Bye Byrd colt Keystone Tort, who made more than $70,000 in their
first two years together.
"I did unbelievably claiming horses for two or three years," he
recalled. "I came down to New York [City] with five horses and like
$8,000 in the bank--me and my father. By that fall I claimed one for
$62,000, and he ended up winning an open the day after Christmas, and
set a track record for geldings. He made like $80,000 in six weeks,
and then it just mushroomed. I had a bunch of good claims that made
$200,000 in one year."
Through his mastry of the claiming game, Schnittker continued to
improve his racing fortunes, as is evidenced by his career driving
earnings, which jumped from $40,003 in 1980 to $555,675 in 1987. By
1988 he was over $1 million.
He also quickly found owners who formed partnerships that he
maintains to this day, with such investors and friends as Howard
Taylor, Ronald Kelkenberg and Norman Wenk Jr.
Taylor found Schnittker when the horseman bought the Nihilator
gelding Smiley Face in 1992, and Taylor wanted to retain part
ownership. Kelkenberg and Schnittker go back to 1985, when the
trainer handled the pacer Hot Hit in partnership with Kelkenberg's
wife, Judy, whom he had met at the radiator factory.
Though Judy Kelkenberg passed away, her husband decided to keep her
part of Hot Hit with Schnittker, and soon bought in with Ray and
Warren on the pacer Avon Thunder p,1:59.2h ($127,749).
"I like Ray because he always tells me like it is," said Kelkenberg,
who owns nearly 20 horses with Schnittker and partners. "If our
horses are not making any money, Ray doesn't keep them around too
long. But a lot of the ones we have do make money."
Many of those horses make a lot of money.
His earliest example was the tough-minded racehorse named Covert
Action, who Schnittker purchased in 1988 with Kelkenberg's Kelk's
Inc., Ellen Marie Andrews and Robert Papaccio
"I bought him from Gordon Norris for $100,000 after he'd just turned
3," Schnittker recalled. "He turned out to be a hell of a racehorse."
The son of General Star had made just under $4,000 in six starts as a
2-year-old. After joining the Schnittker stable, he went on a tear,
winning 47 races over eight seasons and bringing home more than $1.1
million--and putting the young horseman on racing's map.
The pacer, retired since 1995, now stands at stud in Montgomery, N.Y.
Schnittker's next brush with success came in 1991 when he picked up a
son of Nihilator named Six Day War, another hard-headed dynamo, who
couldn't decide which gait he liked best. He became the world's
fastest double-gaited performer by virtue of his p,1:55h and 1:56.4h
records.
Schnittker sold the big stallion in May of 1994, but the trainer
continued to find his way to the winner's circle with other charges.
In February of 1994 Schnittker, Wenk's Seal Stable and Kelkenberg
bought Calypso Beat, and watched as that pacer made them $500,000 in
three years, racing at the top-level events at Freehold and Yonkers.
In April of 1995 they bought Rayson Hanover, also an invitational
performer on the small East Coast tracks, who earned them nearly
$600,000 in six seasons.
Clearly exhibiting a Midas touch with raceway horses, Schnittker and
company soon sought to parlay their money and luck into the yearling
market.
"When I was a kid--22, 23--we used to have five or six babies every
year, and we always did OK with them, but we were buying horses for
$3,000, $4,000," he said. "When I came down to New York, we had a lot
of money behind us and did very well at the claimers. I guess you get
looking at the bigger pots of gold with the young horses."
Being partial to trotters, Schnittker set his sights on the available
opportunities.
"Back then basically it was Super Bowl--who I didn't really care for;
Speedy Crown--who I couldn't afford; Valley Victory--who I definitely
couldn't afford; and Balanced Image," he recalled.
In 1995 Schnittker welcomed to his barn two Balanced Image colts,
spending $55,000 on Armbro Plato with partners Earl Scheelar, Wenk
and Kelkenberg, and $37,000 on Captain Claude, with Kelkenberg,
Edward Rosenthal and 3 Brothers Stable.
It was Armbro Plato who made his life a living hell, and got racing
thinking that Schnittker and psycho horses went hand in hand.
"He was tough," said Schnittker. "He made me a lot of money, but I
hated him.
"A good story about him is how we got him home, and Steve Jones of
Cameo Hills was there," said Schnittker with a wicked smile. "He's
about 6-foot-4, a big guy, right? He was holding the horse, and my
wife [veterinarian Janet Durso] stuck a thermometer in the horse's
[rear end] to take his temperature. That colt shot right forward and
went right through two sets of fences--boom, boom!
"He took off, and all I could think of was, 'I gotta break this one
now?' He was actually pretty easy to break, but you could always tell
he was on fire."
Despite his challenges, Armbro Plato clearly had speed to burn. The
colt won his first two races--setting his 1:58.1 freshman mark June
25 at The Meadowlands--and finished second to Yankee Glide in his
elimination for the $500,000 Peter Haughton Memorial.
It was in that final that racing started to take notice of Schnittker-
a nose-to-the-grindstone raceway trainer who suddenly found himself
in the Haughton final with not one, but two colts.
"Captain Claude finished third in his elim, and then he drew the rail
in the final," Schnittker said. "Of course the one I drove draws the
10-hole."
Captain Claude, with Jack Moiseyev in the bike, ended up second to
Yankee Glide, earning $125,000 toward his more than $200,000 in
freshman earnings, while Armbro Plato was seventh and would bring
home just $65,000 on the year.
The tables, however, would soon turn on the two colts--catapulting
Schnittker to the forefront of racing.
Armbro Plato's continuing mental challenges prompted the trainer to
castrate his charge between his 2- and 3-year-old
campaigns: "Actually, racing he wasn't bad, but in the post parade,
watch out. One time I hit the outside fence 'cause he just freaked
out. I thought I was on a roller coaster. He was really aggravating."
Aggravating or not, Armbro Plato pulled Schnittker through a stellar
sophomore campaign, winning 12 of 22 races--including the Dexter Cup
and a variety of Ontario Sire Stakes--and earning more than $660,000.
The colt missed just one check on the year, and picked up his biggest
payday finishing third to Malabar Man in the 1997 Hambletonian.
"He had plenty of speed, and if he had any guts, he might've won the
race," Schnittker recalled. "I pulled out and took like two steps
forward, and then he hung. He was gutless."
Though he may downplay his colt's performance, even Schnittker said
he realized the magnitude of a relatively small-time guy from upstate
New York driving, training and owning a Hambletonian horse--and an on-
the-board finisher to boot.
"I could be third the rest of my life, and I would enjoy it," he
said. "It's a great week [between the eliminations and the final].
You have the hope, and that takes you a long way."
Schnittker didn't have long to wait before securing the mount who
would help him relive the hope of a Hambletonian victory. A year
after his drive behind Armbro Plato, Schnittker and partners went
back to the Armstrong yearling consignment, this time to purchase a
son of Garland Lobell named Armbro Trick for $37,000.
"He was out of a mare called Wendys Joker, who made over $300,000,"
he said. "She wasn't the greatest broodmare, but she'd had a couple
who made over $100,000 [the Speedy Crown gelding Armbro Laughter and
the King Conch filly Armbro Roseanne]. I thought that might be the
best mare to be bred to Garland."
Schnittker, enjoying the fact that Armbro Trick was a bit easier to
handle that Armbro Plato, steered the colt to three wins in his
freshman season and nearly $90,000 in earnings. The following year he
stepped up to be among the best in his classes, winning with races
and more than $460,000, while capturing such events as the Dexter Cup
and an elimination for the Yonkers Trot.
Like Armbro Plato, however, his biggest payday came not from a win,
but rather a third-place finish--this time behind Yankee Paco in the
2000 Hambletonian.
"Plato was kind of in contention, and hung on to finish third," said
Schnittker. "Trick had a terrible trip--he was ninth at the half--and
he came home real strong to finish third. I was real happy with that
effort.
"I think I appreciated [the Hambletonian] more the second time
around. It's funny, because I thought both my horses qualified like
crap--they only made the final 'cause of high earnings. Even so, you
have a whole week between the elims and the final to dream a little
bit."
Though he may dream of the big time, Schnittker keeps his feet on the
ground by stabling away from the hustle and bustle of the racing
action. He and his partner, trainer Paul Doherty--who was also the
best man in his wedding--handle their horses just strides from the
heart of racing history. They are based in the historic Coxe barn
located at the first turn of Historic Track at Goshen.
The pair have been friends since the early 1980s, and now have a
partnership that allows them to maximize their mutual talents.
"I know exactly what he's going to do, and he knows what I'm going to
do," said Schnittker of Doherty. "I can trust him with any horse, any
task, any time. That's a big load off my shoulders."
Schnittker's other partner in life and racing is his wife, Dr. Janet
Durso, a veterinarian who specializes in track work. It is her
inspiration which he credits with calming him down a bit from his
wilder youth.
"She's a good influence on me," he said. "I don't know why we hit it
off--we're kind of opposites, actually--but I think that helps me
look at stuff different ways."
Schnittker and Durso first met at a Blue Chip Farms New Year's Eve
party welcoming 1992. It was not love at first sight.
"I didn't think much about him," admitted Durso with a laugh. "I was
surprised to get a call from him afterward. I thought going out with
him would be interesting, to say the least."
Durso, a graduate of Cornell University's veterinary program, soon
found much to like in the quick-witted, pull-no-punches Schnittker.
In six months they had grown close enough to survive a two-year
break, during which time Durso was serving a residency program at the
University of California-Davis.
In fact, Durso never did finish the four-year program: "I had to make
a choice between sticking it out or going to Ray. He was pretty
persistent."
The couple were married in Goshen in 1994. A member of their wedding
party was Covert Action, who pulled the couple in a buggy to their
reception.
Durso is the first to admit theirs is a relationship built on love,
frivolity and horses. Sometimes the mix works, and sometimes it
proves difficult.
"We have a lot of things in common, and we have fun together," Durso
said. "We were pretty wild early on. I'm not sure if I calmed him
down or he just doesn't want to admit he's getting older.
"If you ever worked with your spouse, you know how hard it can be. At
times we work together great--like at horse sales, he relies on my
opinion quite a bit. When they go lame or there are problems--that's
when it's very difficult. We get through it."
One challenge they face is living apart as much as they live
together. Durso, whose practice is run out of the couple's New York
State home, is often out and about treating clients and patients.
Schnittker, who races here, there and everywhere along the Eastern
seaboard, is often gone before she gets up, and returning from the
races long after his wife has gone to bed.
"I do get updates on what I need to do with the horses," Durso said,
laughing.
Despite his veterinary connections, Schnittker prides himself on
doing as little vet work as possible on his horses, citing the
example of Armbro Plato, who had just $2,000 of medical bills for his
entire 3-year-old season.
Schnittker claims that any quality trainer who has been in the
business as long as he has--going on three decades--had better be
able to tell what is going on with his horses and how to correct many
problems themselves, or they have no business holding onto the lines.
"I get a kick when someone injects every joint," he said. "I have no
idea what they think they are doing. Do they think that will be the
answer to keeping the horse sound in the long run? Half the time you
get a joint infection, and then the problem is worse."
Schnittker's current stable features 35 performers, including
Historic Cup winner Game Of Skill 3,1:53.2, and New York Sire Stakes
winners Hang Time 3,1:58.3h and Too Good For Us 3,2:02.1h. The
horseman's recent success with trotters has enabled him to attract
such high-profile owners as Frank Antonacci and Blue Chip Farm--"We
may not be the best outfit, but we get them to the races," he said
with a laugh--but he is also committed to owning at least part of
most of his charges.
"[The late] Jimmy Cruise said the greatest thing: 'If you are going
to make money for somebody else, you might as well make it for
yourself,'" Schnittker said, recalling words of wisdom from the Hall
of Fame horseman. "The thing I take pride in the most is my good
horses. If I'm going to win the Hambletonian, I'm going to win it
with something I own a part of. I think that just adds to the
pleasure for me."
In addition to his ownership commitment, Schnittker also tries to
steer all members of his stable--which puts him in the distinct
minority in this age of specialization.
"I swear to God I'd be broke if I didn't drive my own horses," he
said with a laugh. "When I use other drivers, I get a lot of good
drives, but I also get some drives where I say, 'What the hell is
that guy doing?' If I started doing bad with my horses and other guys
did better, I would stop driving. But if you asked any of these
drivers if they were driving Armbro Trick or Armbro Plato, if they
would've made a dollar more, I think they'd say no. I know my horses.
"I like sitting behind them all the time, especially if I've got a
problem. I know I can unzip those. I think just being with them all
through everything is an important part of being successful-
especially with your own 2-year-olds. This way I know exactly what
they're going to do--and I'm not going to barbecue them."
Schnittker, however, is not afraid to put his horses on the front-end-
-and if you are looking for him in a race, the engine is usually the
safest bet.
Schnittker said that tendency comes from his years driving on the
competitive half-milers of the New York circuit. Schnittker's comfort
on the front end, however, did not cloud his judgment when the big
money was on the line. Though he left with Armbro Plato and Armbro
Trick in their Hambletonian elims, he took back with both trotters
when $1 million was at stake-likely resulting in their strong
finishes.
"I might be nuts, but I'm not stupid," Schnittker said. "Sure, they
both qualified off the front-end, but Plato stopped like I had hit
him with a brick. When I took them both off the gate, they raced
good."
As if driving and training don't keep him busy enough, Schnittker
also ships all his own horses--to Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey,
Canada and beyond.
Though it may be exhausting to handle racing responsibilities
morning, noon and night, Schnittker said there one simple tonic that
keeps him going: winning.
"If you think you've got a nice colt, it kind of keeps you going," he
said smiling. "Sure, if you race two horses and they both come in
last and break, or something like that, and you have to drive home
eight hours, that sucks. But if you win a couple, you can just drive
right back and go to work and never miss a beat."
The same rationale that keeps him driving has also put him in the
saddle aboard his horses--he was even a brief competitor in the
USTA's now-defunct Boots and Saddles racing under saddle series--
allowing him to get an even better feel for their ails and their
attitudes.
"A lot of the trotters, if they start getting off behind, I'll go
ride them up and down the hills to work it out," he said. "And Plato,
I used to ride him quite a bit, because he was so goofy."
Schnittker admitted he will "try anything" to keep one going--be it
swimming, riding or leading. Covert Action was kept going through
swimming, though Schnittker bypassed the pool and went straight for
the pond in the middle of his property. It is a tool he uses in the
heat of summer and the chill of winter.
"I do whatever it takes," he said. "I know a lot of people feel I
push my horses--maybe I'm hard on them--but I make pretty good money
doing it. These guys keep going for me, too--my guys go the whole
year, from the Dexter Cup right to the Breeders Crown. I must be
doing something right. I also like my horses. I don't blow them up as
2-year-olds. I take good care of them, and they pay me back."
While he has his share of well-bred youngsters, Schnittker also
devotes his time to his staple--the raceway stock who "pay the
bills." Though most of them are conditioned competitors, he continues
to play sometimes in the claiming game that got him started in the
business--despite the fact the rules have changed dramatically.
In his early days, claiming a horse for $50,000 and moving him up in
class meant you likely had that horse for the rest of his career.
Nowadays a horseman who claims one for $50,000 and puts him in the
next week for $60,000 could lose him in his first start.
"The way the game is now, you almost have to be like a real gambler--
every time you put one in the box, you are rolling the dice that he
might be gone," he said. "It's hard, because I have owners who like
to enjoy their horses for a while."
Schnittker credited his claiming success to his willingness to claim
winners. Whereas some people shy away from a horse who has won
several claiming starts--"The dumbest comment I ever heard was a guy
who said he wouldn't claim a horse who had won too many"--Schnittker
looks for one who has proven a success. He also wants to bring to his
stable fairly sound, younger horses, though that is getting harder
and harder to do.
"I used to stick to 5-year-olds and under, but there seems like there
is a lack of those horses now," he said. "The breeding farms have not
kept up with demand."
Despite his affinity for hard-knocking racehorses, Schnittker cited
the claiming roller coaster as contributing to racing's problems with
excessive medications, for a horsemen who will likely have a horse
just a few weeks may be more inclined to give that horse anything and
everything to get him to the winner's circle.
"All these claimers promote drug abuse," he said. "The guy doesn't
mind injecting every joint, or using Epogen and all that crap,
because he's planning to race the horse a few weeks, not a few
years."
Schnittker said his desire to move away from claimers is what keeps
him more focused on New York racing, rather than delve into the big
pond that is New Jersey. To be regularly competitive at The
Meadowlands, he said, takes a commitment of capital that he is not
willing to put out. In addition, he finds half-mile racing to be a
bit kinder on his equine partners.
"I think the horses just last longer," he said. "Even if I get a bad
spot--like the eight-hole--I'm not killing them just keeping up."
Schnittker, who admits to being a high-energy kind of guy, rarely
stops moving--or thinking. When he is not pondering plans for his
horses, he may be found plotting ways to improve the sport of racing
and bring in more fans.
Among his desires would be to bring in a restaurant chain like
Hooters to attract a younger crowd, and setting up TVs to showcase
the races for people who might not yet be fans.
"We need to be like other areas are with movies and restaurants," he
said. "People may want to go to the restaurant, but they want to do
more so they'll catch a movie, too. The same thing can apply here,
but they can catch the races."
He would also open up the paddocks and barn areas to remove the
mystery behind racing, a mystery that can often lead to the
perception--real or imagined--of improprieties in racing.
"They should let everybody come over here and open it up," he
said. "Let people see what we do. We have nothing to hide."
Schnittker himself remains fairly well hidden up in New York State,
training at the Goshen track and coordinating his broodmares and
babies at his nearby farm.
It is there he will stay, waiting for the next horse to take him to
possible Hambletonian glory, or even just one more trip to the
winner's circle.
"I still get a rush every time I go on the track," he said with a
grin. "I don't care if you win a $3,000 claimer--you get that little
rush at the finish line. I think once you lose that you might as well
get out of the game."