“And away he goes” - reflecting on Trevor Denman's race calling career and his influence on his protégé Frank Mirahmadi

Article by ED GOLDEN

Like Babe Ruth, Michael Jordan, Jim Thorpe and Jesse Owens, Trevor Denman was a game changer.

Until Denman arrived from his native South Africa to the United States in 1983, no one had ever called a live horse race like he did. Gone were old school traditionalists like Clem McCarthy and Fred Capossela.

For some four decades, Denman and his description of a race would become the gold standard in a historic sport dating back centuries. To crestfallen fans everywhere, at the age of 72, he decided to hang up his microphone, announcing his retirement on March 6, 2025.

“This is one of the hardest decisions I have ever made,” Denman said in a Del Mar press release. “But my soul is telling me that now is the time.”

His colorful calls, famous for their descriptive adjectives, were worthy of Triple A ratings, for accuracy, anticipation and attention to detail. 

Fans could bubble with enthusiasm when they heard Denman say their horse was “moving like a winner” or “looked like he just jumped in at the quarter pole.” Conversely, they could trash their mutuel tickets if Trevor said so and so “just threw in the towel,” or my favorite, so and so “was never happy today.”

It has been said that fame creates its own standards, and no one painted the portrait of a race like Denman.

His reputation is well-founded and well-earned. He was a part-time jockey and exercise rider in South Africa. He started calling races there in 1971 at age 18. He called two races at Santa Anita in 1983 and was named the track’s permanent announcer when hired by the track’s multi-faceted executive Alan Balch, presently a regular contributor to this magazine.

While fractional times varied during Denman’s countless race calls, he always maintained a steady pace for himself.

“Trevor arrived at Santa Anita and from the very start his skill at the microphone was immediately and almost universally acclaimed,” Balch said. “This was particularly noteworthy because his style and method was entirely new to American racing, and novelty is usually not welcome in our ancient sport.  In the face of all the compliments and laudatory coverage, what struck me most about Trevor was his humility.  He was private and self-effacing from the start and he remains that way, even with all the accolades still flowing.”

In December 2015, Denman announced he would be retiring as Santa Anita’s race caller after 33 years. Rather reclusive away from the track, he since limited his race-calling the past two meets to the Del Mar Thoroughbred Club, 20 miles north of San Diego, before calling it a career.

This affords him the opportunity to enjoy life full time with his wife, Robin, on a remote farm near Kellogg, Minnesota, where he guards his privacy like he’s living at Fort Knox, renting his pasture for 30 dairy cows.

Kellogg, population 469, is located in the beautiful Mississippi River Valley along Highway 61. A hunting and fishing hub surrounded by many beautiful state parks open to the use of ATV’s and horse-back riders, Kellogg is known for its annual watermelon festival. The nearest “big town” is Red Wing, 40 miles away, population 16,000.

Denman, worldly and well-read, favoring great authors and philosophers, made his most memorable call in the 2009 Breeders’ Cup Classic when the mythical mare Zenyatta came from out of the clouds as was her wont to defeat males, Denman labeling her stunning rally “Un-be-liev-a-ble!,” accenting the five syllables with pregnant pauses for dramatic emphasis.

If a movie is ever made about Zenyatta’s career, phony races won’t be required for excitement. The real ones are breathtaking in their authenticity.

Frank Mirahmadi currently calls the races at Santa Anita and Saratoga, two of the world’s most historic and prestigious race tracks. 

Mirahmadi, 57, born and raised in Los Angeles, seems even more meticulous and scrupulous than Denman in his passionate pursuit of perfection. His admiration of Denman knows no bounds, as the following glowing homage attests:

“When Trevor arrived in the U.S., I was in high school. Racing fans certainly felt lucky to have Dave Johnson as the Santa Anita announcer, but it didn't take long for them to recognize that Trevor was in a league of his own.  His ability to read a race was remarkable, and he did it day in and day out.  

“It was also clear that Trevor loves horses and the sport. That came out not only in his calls, but also through his commentary on the nightly replay show, which aired on KDOC channel 56, well before the internet.  I looked forward to the replay show to not only enjoy the racing action but also to hear Trevor's insights into what happened, and which horse(s) we should watch going forward.

“At Santa Anita, there was an on-track radio station (KWIN), which you could only listen to while on the property.  The hosts would give insights, conduct interviews, and, most importantly to me, they would send it up to Trevor about a minute before each race, and he would give his opinion on the race, as well as the on-track appearance of the main contenders, etc. That would be strictly for the KWIN audience.  After the race, he would give a post-race recap for KWIN’s listeners. 

“For me, I believe KWIN took my level of interest and fascination with announcers to another level.  I had been imitating track announcers for many years, and Trevor had certainly earned his place as my favorite, but the opportunity to get a chance to hear his thoughts before the race changed the need for me to come to Santa Anita with friends.  As far as I was concerned, all I needed was a SONY Walkman so I could hear Trevor.

“In 1990, Golden Pheasant made his debut in an allowance race.  Trevor hosted a segment on KWIN 'Foreign Form,’ where he would explain how the international form of runners making their first start in the U.S. stacked up against the competition.

“Trevor said when he saw Golden Pheasant in the race, he ‘thought it was a misprint,’ because Golden Pheasant had the credentials to participate in a long-distance graded stakes race. But he qualified for the allowance condition. Golden Pheasant broke slowly against a talented field, but still unleashed a strong rally to win. I truly believe this horse played a big role in my becoming an announcer. I started following Golden Pheasant, and also called Trevor in the booth to let him know what a genius he was.

“Golden Pheasant went on to win the Arlington Million for trainer Charlie Whittingham with future Hall of Famer Gary Stevens aboard. A couple of weeks after the Million win, I went to Del Mar and Trevor invited me up to the booth. We had a great conversation and went over a lot of things.  It was like a baseball fan getting to visit the dugout with Babe Ruth.

“I wanted to let Trevor hear my impression of him, and in early 1992 a friend of mine was working on a series of shows on Sportschannel, with some Triple Crown prep races and the Santa Anita Handicap on the schedule.  He hired me as an associate producer, so I got to visit the jockeys room, backstretch, etc. to help him conduct interviews.  One night, when we were getting tapes of races to use on the show, we taped me as Trevor Denman calling the world-record performance of Spectacular Bid from the Strub Stakes of 1980 (Dave Johnson had called the race at SA). 

“I mailed it to Trevor and asked what he thought.  He said he was ‘flabbergasted,’ adding, ‘I played it for a couple of people and they thought it was me. That was an amazing tape.’ 

“I was so happy and truly believe that it inspired me to call Hollywood Park management in December 1992 to let them know I could imitate their vacationing announcer Trevor Denman as well as the late father of the gentleman filling in, Gary Henson (his father was Harry Henson, who called at HP for 24 years). I had no experience, but eventually Hollywood Park management let me call two races in the press box into a tape recorder, and that led to me being invited to call two races on closing day.

“Trevor wrote me a recommendation letter in 1994, and I sent that along with a tape of my calls to 60 tracks around the country.  I got a break at Hialeah Park, filling in for four days in May 1995. The following year, they hired me as their full-time announcer.

“His letter:

‘This letter is to state my backing for Frank Mirahmadi as a track announcer. Frank is talented and has a knack for calling races.  He has confidence and, given the chance, should develop into a fine announcer.’

“How amazing is that?  Trevor is such a nice man, and his backing certainly helped me open a few doors.  He also has given me incredible advice throughout my journey calling races.

“When I got the Santa Anita job, he was so happy for me.  I know he wanted me to get this job. Trevor has become a great friend. So has his wife, Robin. We talk on the phone every month or two, and although he specifically said he didn't want to give me any critique, he offered what he calls ‘helpful hints’ about minor things in my calls.  

“To me, it's like Picasso telling an art student how to make a few subtle changes. My career has been inspired by his brilliance, and I have such fond memories of hundreds if not thousands of his race calls.

“My favorite Trevor Denman call all-time is his 1989 Preakness.  Many don't realize he was calling at Pimlico back then.  He gave an epic call of Sunday Silence and Easy Goer for the on-track audience.

“Trevor sees what the average person can't see in a race.  Go watch Songbird's debut.  He basically told us she is a superstar.

“I also love this call of Best Pal winning the Big Cap . . .  "Kent Desormeaux pushes the button on Best Pal . . . Best Pal in a formality, what a superstar he's turned out to be . . . Best Pal romps home in the Big Cap.”

In a game where critics are at the ready with all eyes and ears awaiting the slightest blunder in the call of a race, Mirahmadi is a refreshing original, his fertile brain replete with specious thoughts. An example: in the fifth race at Santa Anita this Feb. 28, a three-year-old gelding named I’m a Bad Boy won the one-mile turf event, setting less than frenetic fractions of 23.69 for the first quarter, 48.95 for the half-mile and 1:12.78 for six furlongs, dawdling home a mile in 1:36.57.

The relatively slow early times were at the forefront in Mirahmadi’s mind as the even-money favorite neared the finish line, alluding to the major reason for the two-length victory, he said that the three-year-old “moved softly early.” 

He didn’t utter more common phrases, such as “went slow early, or “set leisurely fractions early” but “moved softly early,” likely a first for any race track announcer.

Another luminous example came in the third race at Santa Anita on Jan. 24 when Sophisticate, favored at 10 cents to the dollar, overwhelmed three hapless rivals, drawing away at will through the stretch to win by a length after attending the early pace, Mirahmadi declaring at the time, “the drama’s over.”

Drama? That’s a word more commonly used in theatre, not horse racing, but Mirahmadi dug to the depth of his vast vocabulary for a more propitious fit. 

No surprise, really, since Mirahmadi is candid about his love of the game, confessing, “I’m a fan first,” adding, “It’s a privilege to be Trevor’s friend and I think of him every day in what I still call ‘Trevor’s booth’ at Santa Anita Park.”

The sentiment is reciprocal for Denman, who unabashedly admits, “Frank and I are close friends. He is the best announcer in America right now.”

They are both welded to the emotion of the race.

And away they go!