BALTIMORE – With his customary good humor, sharp insights and coffee container in hand, trainer Bob Baffert professed yesterday that today’s Preakness Stakes is a fun event, free of tension.

“I don’t get myself keyed up because in this game you lose more than you win,” he said. “I just get the horses ready and thereafter it’s racing luck.

“The Preakness is just another race. We run in these big races all year long.”

No sale, Bob. Deep down, nobody could be more keyed up for this Preakness than the dynamic little Triple Crown hunter with the white hair. He’s on the line today and he knows it.

Paint the picture: Baffert pulled into Louisville with the hottest hand of the season, confidently expecting to run 1-2 in the Kentucky Derby with his twins, Point Given and Congaree. Instead, he ran 3-5. No roses, no coronation, no joy, just the painful sense of loss.

Worst of all, no explanation. Point Given finished so far back – nearly 12 lengths behind Monarchos – that after the Derby Baffert sent him to an equine hospital for a top-to-bottom physical checkup. They found nothing, leaving Baffert as mystified as ever over Point Given’s disappointing Derby.

Congaree ran a mighty Derby to the furlong pole, but then gave ground, unable to hold second. Baffert promptly fired the jockey, Victor Espinoza.

The double loss was a double blow, making it a bitter experience for the usually jovial trainer.

So now he has come to Baltimore, loaded with the same ammunition but conspicuously less confident.

Today, Point Given has drawn the extreme outside No. 11 post, which may not prevent him from winning, but certainly will make the task more difficult.

Baffert has a new jockey, Jerry Bailey, for Congaree, but he has opted to remove the blinkers from the horse. Tinkering with a horse’s equipment at the 11th hour for a classic like the Preakness is not an encouraging sign.

This will be Congaree’s fifth race in less than two months, a hard regimen for a young colt who only broke his maiden in late February.

As if these things were not troubling enough, Baffert’s horses are stabled only a few yards down the shedrow from the gray monster, Monarchos, giving Baffert the opportunity to examine his main competition close up. He’s impressed.

“Monarchos reminds me of Silver Charm,” Baffert said. “He’s a really good horse, a good-looking horse. I like the way he’s made. I’ve paid a lot of attention to him. He’s intelligent – and he’s the horse we have to beat.”

Baffert might have even greater anxieties off the racetrack. Hanging over his head is the detection of a small trace of morphine in one of his horses a year ago.

The California Horse Racing Board’s counsel has recommended that Baffert be fined $10,000 and suspended for six months. This is a hard hit for such a high-profile trainer perennially engaged in the Triple Crown and Breeders’ Cup.

Baffert has denied administering any illegal substance to his horses. He believes that poppy seeds from hay or pastries could have found their way into the horse’s system.

Complicating the case is that the horse’s blood sample was never tested for the offending drug, then it was inexplicably thrown out.

The Californian stewards have not yet handed down a ruling on Baffert. He is, for now, twisting in the wind, his reputation hanging in the balance.

So between the stewards and the Preakness, Baffert has a lot on his mind. Only once yesterday did he let his guard down.

When a TV reporter, Keith Mills, who won a local award, passed by, Baffert yelled to him.

“Congratulations,” the trainer said. “It was well-deserved. Thanks for mentioning my name. I need it right now. These are tough times.”

A win in the Preakness would do much to boost Baffert’s morale, his insistence notwithstanding that he’s low-key and the Preakness is just another race.

POSTSCRIPT: Baffert says he has one pre-race superstition.

“Never put a hat on the bed,” he said. “I don’t know why, but my father told me that a long time ago. Somebody in our group must have put a hat on the bed before the Derby. I don’t know who it was, but I told them – no more hats.”