The morning stand-up routine kicks off just before 5 o'clock on the other side of the railroad tracks along the Monmouth Park backstretch.
The headliner at a stable filled with thoroughbreds hopped up on Guinness has no opening act, so he goes right into his material.
His soulmate: "Maybe I'll meet a rich woman with a bad heart. That's what I want."
His golf handicap: "I used to be pretty good. Not anymore. I'm the handicap now."
His future in the horse racing industry: "I'm sure I'll be stuck in it forever."
Derek Ryan's one-liners from Barn 32 thunder down the backstretch, punctuated with an Irish giggle.
He laughs at his success, jokes about his misfortunes, keeping his sanity with an extra large cup of coffee and a steady stream of self-deprecating humor.
Less than a month after Ryan lost his only realistic chance to win today's $1.25 million Haskell Invitational at Monmouth Park, when powerhouse colt Musket Man was injured, the 42-year-old trainer hopes Bunker Hill, a 30-1 long shot in the seven-horse field, can work a miracle.
"Musket Man was my Tom Brady," Ryan said. "Bunker Hill is like Doug Flutie. He's not overly big, not quite as talented, but he's got one of the biggest hearts you've ever seen in a horse."
Losing Musket Man, who finished third at the Kentucky Derby and Preakness Stakes, sent a shock through Ryan's system. The thoroughbred that could have challenged filly superstar Rachel Alexandra bowed out due to a bone bruise in his left hoof, leaving Ryan searching for some Luck of the Irish.
"You finally walk into Yankee Stadium -- and get a big swing at the plate -- and then you're rained out," trainer Tim Shaw said. "It's a difficult thing. There's such great highs and such great lows in this game. But Derek's been around."
Ryan, of course, understands the peaks and valleys more than most trainers. Six years ago, he made a gaffe of epic proportions.
Ryan claimed Be Happy My Love for the bargain-basement price of $5,000 at Philadelphia Park in 2003. The filly came back lame in her first race, finishing 34.5 lengths off the pace, prompting the Irish-born trainer to practically give her away for $4,000.
Ryan knew the filly's bloodlines but never imagined her half-brother, Smarty Jones, would explode the following spring. The colt's magical near-miss Triple Crown run turned Be Happy My Love into a gold mine with an estimated worth of $350,000.
Ryan's not obsessed with the miscue.
"I tried to give her back to the people that owned Smarty Jones and they didn't even want her back," Ryan said with a laugh. "They didn't know how good Smarty Jones was going to be either. It's part of the game, you know."
It's a game that he's been a part of since 1989, when the Ryan World Tour made a stop in the United States.
He grew up in Tipperary, Ireland, with five brothers and three sisters, riding ponies and playing golf, before globe-trotting. Two years in France. One in England. Another in Italy.
"I always wanted to come to the States," said Ryan, who lives in Eatontown. "I figured I'd come here for a year before I go to Australia. But I never left."
A friend helped him get a job as an exercise rider and assistant trainer at Monmouth Park. By 1996, Ryan started training on his own with stables at Monmouth and Philadelphia Park. (Today, he trains 22 thoroughbreds in New Jersey, 10 in Philly and sends a string of horses to Tampa, Fla., in the winter.)
Ryan beat the sun to work every day, squeezing a bit of fun into the daily grind with a few unorthodox training methods like putting a pint of Guinness into his horses' feeds to give them a good appetite.
"A lot of European trainers think it's good for health," Shaw cracked. "I can't argue with them. It's good for my health."
Ryan's easy-going nature, honesty and knowledge of the sport turned him into a staple at Monmouth Park.
Along the way, he forged a friendship with owner Rich Sorge of Flying Dutchman Thoroughbreds in Toms River, who has entrusted the happy-go-lucky trainer with several horses, including Bunker Hill, during the past five years.
Sorge, the self-proclaimed "primary deliverer of the Guinness" to the stable each Monday, has mirrored Ryan's competitive yet blissful approach.
"We want to be competitive," Sorge said. "But we don't want to look back 10 years from now and say, 'You know what? I wish we enjoyed that more.' We're out to have a good time ... every time."
So, Sorge remains realistic about Bunker Hill's chances to topple Preakness winner and 4-5 morning line favorite Rachel Alexandra. He believes in Ryan.
After all, the trainer has a sure-fire plan to pull off the miracle over the filly: The timeless art of seduction.
"Derek's teaching Bunker Hill some pickup lines," Sorge said. "Whisper sweet things to her in an Irish brogue. Maybe she'll fall for him and just follow him around. That's our shot."
