No, if heart had been the ultimate factor, Barbaro would have lived forever! 

What did in the star-crossed colt was the frailty of his extremities, specifically his hooves.  Ravaged by that cursed laminitis, an ailment that has been the undoing of horses both great and obscure since time began, not even Barbaro's stout heart or indomitable will could prevent the inevitable.

Once the condition took a foothold and began having its' way, the handwriting was on the wall.  Tragically, Barbaro's final finish line lay dead ahead.

True to their word,  Barbaro's gifted surgeon Dr. Dean Richardson and his adoring owners Gretchen and Roy Jackson indicated that if things ever reached the point where their magnificent four-legged warrior was suffering,  they'd be forced to give up the fight.

It was incumbent on them to do so because one gets the sense that Barbaro never would have thrown in the towel.  His competitive makeup was such that he probably would have tried to soldier on through all the pain and agony.  It was his nature to battle to the bitter end and had not his caretakers intervened, that's more than likely what would have happened.

But because of the remarkable courage he'd displayed during his eight-month fight for life, he deserved a peaceful and dignified death.  And so at 10:30 a.m. on January 29th at the University of Pennsylvania New Bolton Center, the 3-year-old who had riveted the public with his talent and won their hearts with his pluck was euthanized.  A powerful drug had put him down but nothing could ever stamp out his spirit.

What makes Barbaro's passing particularly distressing is that he was destined for greatness.  He had the potential to be a horse for the ages.  That cruel fate denied him his chance to achieve legendary status seems incredibly unfair.  It's not only a travesty, it's truly heartbreaking.

You see, Barbaro had it all.

He was as dashing as they come, with a white crown on his forehead,  a flowing  black mane and tail set off  by a glorious reddish, brown body.  He was tall and strapping and what a figure he cut when he was barreling down the homestretch in full flight. 

And when it came to athleticism, Barbaro was also off the charts.  His speed was eye-popping and he possessed a stamina that seemed inexhaustible.  A place in the history books was surely his calling. 

And after he toyed with and then destroyed the '06 Kentucky Derby field by a whopping 6 1/2 lengths, it looked like nothing could stop this superb animal/machine.  Triple Crown talk was ablaze.  The Sport of Kings was again relevant because of the charisma and appeal of this Pegasus-like horse whose seemed to simultaneously run and fly.

But then it all went terribly wrong when within a few strides of breaking from the gate at the Preakness, Barbaro's right leg imploded and was instantly transformed into nothing but shattered bones.

His brilliant and until then unbeaten career was snuffed out in a second and Barbaro's very life hung in the balance.

Extraordinary life-saving procedures spared him but surgeon Richardson sounded a cautionary note from the start, saying that Barbaro's rehabilitation would be protracted and fraught with danger.  Come to me in a year, the vet advised, and then I'll feel secure in Barbaro's prospects.

Sadly, his celebrated patient never made it that far.

Over the ensuing weeks and months, periodic reports were released detailing Barbaro's status.  Often those updates were encouraging, indicating that the big colt's appetite was healthy and that he was showing signs of more than casual interest in the opposite sex.  In many respects,  he appeared to be on the mend.

But, at other times, the prognosis wasn't nearly so bright. 

As Richardson warned, Barbaro's recovery was interrupted by obvious setbacks that cast a disturbing pall over his chances to ultimately survive.

Many days were good but they were offset by those that proved discouraging.  It always felt as if Barbaro was taking a step or two forward only to subsequently fall back.  It was a drama of continual give and take and up and down.

During the lengthy rehab, Richardson was struck by Barbaro's quiet, calm and relaxed demeanor.  He was exceptionally serene.  On the track, the horse was a runner par excellence.  In the hospital, he showed himself to be a first-rate patient.

In November, Barbaro was well enough to be taken outside and you just know that the gutsy colt got an intense rush when he was able to smell some unfettered air and feel the breeze in his face.  Being outside again with the fall sunshine embracing him, must have felt as good as hitting the finish line first.

As recently as early January, Richardson conveyed that Barbaro might be moved to Kentucky to do his thing as a stud and insure the maintenance of his bloodlines.  But that was the last piece of hopeful news involving Barbaro.  Regrettably, it was his destiny never to leave the confines of the New Bolton Center.

At the end, Richardson was like a man trying to plug a dike with too few fingers.  Problems were cropping up with frightening regularity and soon even his technical skill proved futile.  Time and hope was running out for the heroic 3-year -old chestnut.

And the sad reality is that not even a superior thoroughbred like Barbaro can out run infirmity, the ravages of disease and nature.  Try as he might, they eventually caught up to him.  Barbaro held them at bay for as long as he could but ultimately they won out.

If only it had been a matter heart.  If that had been the sole criteria, Barbaro would still be with us today.  We'd still be able to feast our eyes on that magnificent physique and those sparkling eyes.  Still  be able to appreciate him for what he was and what he could have been. 

But in this case, heart just wasn't enough.  And to all of those he touched, inspired and moved to tears, that's a damn shame.