A ride into the sunset

I am not feeling well this week and skipped riding Limerick on Monday. I also skipped riding tonight. However, I wasn't about to let Miss Lim get off so easily.

I rode her three times last week and wanted to maintain that momentum so I asked Christine if she could hop on Lim. I watched by the rail and was treated to a beautiful sunset as Christine rode.

Most importantly, Lim was great! Hopefully I'm feeling better by Saturday and can ride her then.

Beauty in racing without sound

Seven weeks ago, not long after it was revealed that Rachel Alexandra had undergone emergency surgery due to foaling complications, my husband and I were watching her races on YouTube. The best of her 2009 season flashed across our computer monitor—the Kentucky Oaks at Churchill Downs, the Preakness Stakes at Pimlico, the Mother Goose at Belmont Park, the Haskell at Monmouth, and the Woodward at Saratoga.

In the middle of it all, my husband said that he thought her Preakness and Haskell wins were the most impressive, and I said that I thought her Woodward was her best race since, although she didn’t win by daylight, she—a three-year-old filly—was able to defeat older males in one of the most prestigious races in the country. We then found her Woodward on YouTube and watched as Rachel seized the lead and raced along in split times of :22.85, :46.41, and 1:10.54, setting the pace up perfectly for deep closer Macho Again. Yet, as her pace stalkers tired and fell back, she was able to courageously keep the talented gray at bay to win by a head.

After the race, my husband appeared sad and said, “I wish you could hear the race call.” He then described the call for Rachel’s Woodward to me, and I told him that although it sounded awesome, for me, the experience of watching races has never been diminished simply because I can’t hear what is being said in the race call.

I’m aware that a great race call can, for some people, make the race. I also know—from what others have said—that a good race call can add to a race, while a poor one detracts from it. I have seen my husband laugh at or grimace while listening to bad race calls.

I know that some race calls—one in particular—are quoted time and time again, and I do greatly enjoy reading these quoted race calls. In Blood Horses: Notes of a Sportswriter’s Son, John Jeremiah Sullivan’s drawn-out description of Chic Anderson declaring that Secretariat is “moving like a TREMENDOUS machine” as the big red colt is en-route to demolishing the 1973 Belmont Stakes field—and the world record for 1-1/2 miles—is music to my eyes.

In the mid-90s, at the request of a Christmas list I wrote, my mom ordered VHS tapes of certain races for me. My absolute top request was Secretariat’s Belmont Stakes and although, by then, I had read and re-read who knows how many accounts of his remarkable performance in this race, nothing had prepared me for seeing it for myself. I noticed—and still notice—every little detail. The healthy sheen on the red colt’s powerful rump as he leaves the starting gate. The seagulls flying through the air shortly after he leaves Sham behind. The billowing NYRA and American flags. The two people sitting on a blanket on the outer turf course at the final turn. Secretariat seamlessly changing leads at the top of the stretch as Ron Turcotte sneaks a look back. And the countless hands coming up at the bottom of the screen, cheering and clapping in acknowledgement of the great performance unfurling on the homestretch below. If I turn the volume up and listen closely, I can hear the cheering of the crowd.

My mom also presented to me a typed transcript of the race call for Secretariat’s Belmont. In reading it after watching the race for the first few times, I found that it did not add to the race—it merely complemented it.

Although I will never hear a race call, I understand the people that stand in their booths above the track for hours and watch race after race after race through binoculars, day in and day out. I understand them because when I see a great performance on these same tracks, I do not need background narration to guide me through what is happening before my eyes. I see every little detail, I understand every fraction of a second, every move the jockeys make, and every expression the horses give. I see the perfect rhythm of Secretariat’s strides, I see the courage in Rachel Alexandra, I see the powerful surge of muscles in Zenyatta’s hindquarters, I see the flick of Winter Memories’ tail, and I see Royal Delta’s ears pricking as she takes the lead. It all comes together and creates something beautiful for my eyes, and that is all that I need.

Weekend Recap: Bittersweet

From the Dubai World Cup races to the Florida Derby card overflowing with stakes races at Gulfstream Park and the Louisiana Derby (and undercard) at the Fair Grounds in New Orleans, Saturday had fine horse racing from early morning to evening. Despite the abundant quality of all the races, however, it was something of a bittersweet day.

Dubai World Cup: The richest race in the world was run on Saturday, and although technically an American horse—2011 Kentucky Derby winner Animal Kingdom—won, for me his victory was both bittersweet and disappointing.

The disappointment was largely due to the uncharacteristic performance of Royal Delta, who had been (literally) rearing to go while training at Meydan Racecourse in the days leading up to the race. Leading early, she set very modest fractions (roughly 50 seconds for the first half mile) and led going into the final turn. But she appeared to hit a wall at the top of the stretch and faded to 10^th. It was a big surprise and a disappointment. Anyone that reads this blog regularly will know that I'm a big fan of Royal Delta, and it always hurts when one of "your" horses performs very poorly.

On the other hand, an American horse hasn’t won the Dubai World Cup since the race moved from Nad Al Sheba Racecourse’s dirt track to Meydan’s Tapeta surface in 2010. Animal Kingdom conquered this obstacle; however, as he will not return to the United States and will stand stud in Australia this fall, he isn’t truly an American horse anymore, is he? Hence, the bittersweet flavoring of his victory. 

As a bonus, here's a video of Cigar's 1996 Dubai World Cup win in the inaugural running of the race. For those held spellbound by the great Cigar, early 1995 through late 1996 was a magical run for racing, and no moment of this time was more defined than Cigar's win in Dubai. That day, after flying halfway around the world to an exotic land to conquer all that was thrown at him, Cigar truly became America's horse.

Gulfstream Park: Gulfstream Park had seven stakes on the card for Saturday, including the Florida Derby (Gr. I), Gulfstream Oaks (Gr. II), Sir Shackleton Stakes, and Orchid Stakes (Gr. III), which were of particular interest to me. Click each aforementioned race for a video. Overall, the day of racing here was also bittersweet.

Giving Capt. Candyman Can a peppermint

The Sir Shackleton Stakes was run by a horse Shannon and I like a lot--Capt. Candyman Can. He failed to fire and trailed the field. Since he finished last in his previous race, the Super Stakes at Tampa Bay Downs on February 23, I wondered if it was time to retire Capt.

As it turns out, I was correct. The Daily Racing Form released an article today announcing Capt.'s retirement.

The three-year-olds of 2009 have proven to be some of the more memorable for me. Rachel Alexandra, Giant Oak, Musket Man, Quality Road, Mine that Bird, Mr. Hot Stuff, and Capt. Candyman Can. It was April 4, 2009; my husband and I were at Hawthorne for the Illinois Derby. It was clear but cold outside and I wasn't adequately dressed for the weather so we spent most of our time inside, watching races across the country on the televisions while we awaited the Illinois Derby.

On these televisions, two horses in particular caught my eye--the beautifully handsome, appropriately-named Mr. Hot Stuff in the Santa Anita Derby, and the oddly-named Capt. Candyman Can in the Bay Shore Stakes at Aqueduct (click here for video). That oddly-named horse won his race drawing away and the next day, I put him in my virtual stable. Little did I know that we would meet him three years and six months later.

Racing fans become attached to the horses they follow, particularly as the years flow on and the horse continues to race. Naturally, one becomes more attached to particular individuals, for one reason or the other. Capt. Candyman Can became such a horse for my husband and I, and we are happy that he is retiring safe and sound, with a bright new career on the horizon. Thanks for everything, Capt., it was a great few years.

Capt., his personality, and a corgi.

The Orchid Stakes was a few races later but I missed watching it live. It was recording while I was at the barn, riding Limerick. I wasn't having the best of days up to my ride, but was in a better mood after (as riding can do), and was in an even better mood once I returned home and watched the recording of this race.

I posted a few weeks ago that it was a huge thrill to watch Regalo Mia nab her first stakes win. Well, it's an even bigger thrill to see her accomplish the coveted title of graded stakes winner. Yeah! The lovely Sligo Bay - Shake It Up mare unleashed a good closing drive over the Gulfstream turf to win the Orchid with room to spare. Regalo Mia appears to be improved this year; I hope to see her get her first grade I win later in the year. Here's a good Blood-Horse article on her win.

The Gulfstream Oaks was the most impressive race of the day. Dreaming of Julia (A.P. Indy - Dream Rush, by Wild Rush) took command of the lead over the final turn and won by over 20 lengths, handily. The final time for the 1-1/8 mile race was 1:48.97. Several races later, Orb won the Florida Derby--also 1-1/8 miles--in 1:50.87. It's not often that you see a filly so dominate her race that she wins in a time nearly two seconds faster than the time for a Kentucky Derby prep worth 100 points. 

Orb himself is interesting and has become one of my Kentucky Derby picks. His fourth dam, Laughter (Bold Ruler - Shenanigans) is a very close relative to the great Ruffian. Orb himself is also owned by the Janney family and races under the same silks that Ruffian herself raced in. Maybe it's just me, but amongst the three-year-old colts this year I see so many signs from our trip to New York last year. I spotted Oxbow in the paddock at Saratoga before his first race, Verrazano is named for the Verrazano-Narrows bridge, which we crossed to get to Belmont Park, and Orb is owned by the Janney family and descends from the family of Ruffian. It's kind of surreal, but it's also cool.

"A well-mannered pogo stick"

Limerick and her 'peeps' this morning.

 That's what Limerick felt like last night when I rode her. It was the first ride in a while and I was expecting some silliness (especially since she's in heat again) but she was great--very well-behaved. She did carry herself in a lofty, springy way as if she, rather than spooking sideways or darting forward, instead expedited her energy by elevating herself above the ground with each step. Hence, my well-mannered pogo stick.


I later realized that yesterday was my 17th anniversary with Limerick, as well as the 17th anniversary of my first fall off her--good thing we didn't celebrate that with a repeat!

I received the results of Lim's ACTH blood test this morning and everything is well within the range of 'normal'--in other words, there's no sign of PPID/Cushings in my girl. I have been discussing her case with the reproductive vet that studied her false pregnancy in 2010 (and by the way, he's presenting her case at a conference soon!) and he had some very interesting, good observations. I'll post about that at a later date.

A brilliant start to Friday

Undefeated super-mare Black Caviar cruised through her 24th race at 5:55am this morning, United States Central Time. A typical weekday for me begins at 7:30am but I was more than willing to get up at 5:30am for her, just in case TVG or HRTV showed her in the paddock or on the track, warming up prior to her race (alas, we were instead presented with a choice between a rousing 15-minute Sensa infomercial, courtesy of TVG, or a blurb on Akhal-Teke breeders in America, presented by HRTV. I chose the latter).

Then suddenly, HRTV switched gears and we were at Moonee Valley in Australia. It was post time and the camera shifted from trainer Peter Moody to the great mare herself. Each time I see Black Caviar, I study her close. At first glance, she is packaged plainly. Her coat, although shiny with health, is a standard deep dark bay with no discernible white markings. She doesn't have the swan-like features of Royal Delta, or the imposing size of Zenyatta.

But over the months and years, I've come to realize that she is one of the loveliest horses I've ever seen. She is incredibly well conformed, with a shapely sprinter's neck, strong shoulder, deep barrel, and a powerful engine within her hindquarters. Her finely fierce head, with its dished profile, is that of a Greco-Roman marble carving of a chariot horse in battle, nostrils flared and eyes flashing. And this morning, she tossed that fierce head again and again as she was circled behind the starting gate. She was ready.

Prior to the 2013 racing season, Peter Moody once said that Black Caviar was stronger than ever. I believe him. Although winning with little effort has always been Black Caviar's signature, she now conquers her races with breathtaking ease. I am not one to become emotional with every good race I see, but this morning--whether it was the early hour or the great mare's performance--I did so well before she cantered under the finish line. My husband was beside me and I, normally one to comment on races we watch together, found it difficult to speak through the lump in my throat. I was without words.



Moments later, the blue fingers of dawn touched the horizon to the east. The sliding glass door in our living room faces that way and I watched as the sky moved through the color palette of a new day--blue, pink, orange, pale yellow--as the sun rose and rays of light reached into our living room. But sun had already risen, in the form of a brilliant dark bay mare from the other side of the world.

Like a painting

A friend at the barn sent me this photograph of Limerick. I told her it's almost like a painting. Miss Lim is so lovely!

Keeneland's Blue Grass Stakes may shape up to be a great race, and it's tough to leave your horse after colic

My husband and I have another trip to Kentucky planned for April 11-13. No matter how many times we visit Kentucky, I always look forward to the next trip, and at four weeks out, typically I will begin daydreaming about the farms I want to visit and the races we will see.

However, as of yesterday, the idea of leaving home filled me with stomach-churning dread. Since Limerick's colic, I've adopted a very strict routine of hand-walking and feeding her every evening at the same time (8-9pm--the barn staff feed the horses at around 8am and 3:30pm but I always give Limerick a third meal). For past trips to Kentucky, I would ask a fellow boarder to just give her a scoop of grain at night--easy. But my new routine is rather complicated and lengthy, and I was afraid to ask anyone to commit to it for three straight nights.

Yesterday I lamented on Facebook about being scared to leave Limerick behind for our trip. A few people commented that she would be fine, but these comments didn't stop the rolling unease in my stomach. Later, at the barn, a boarder that also has an OTTB and is usually at the barn around the same time as me, stopped me and asked when we were going to Kentucky. I told her and she said that she could walk Limerick for me. "Really?" I said, both amazed and grateful that someone was offering. "Can you feed her, too?" I asked hopefully. Oh sure, absolutely! she said. And I know this woman has seen my semi-complicated beet pulp-soaking, grain top-dressing routine with Limerick's nightly feed. She then added that she's "been there," and I know she was referring to the worried obsession that eats you up after your beloved horse colics. Thanks Maggie, I owe you!

Between having Lim's care secured for our trip and this Blood Horse article about the Blue Grass Stakes (Gr. I) nominees, I am finally beginning to relax a little--just a little--and look forward to our trip. With Daisy Devine entered in the Jenny Wiley Stakes (Gr. 1) and the Blue Grass Stakes looking to be an exciting Kentucky Derby prep, April 13 should be a great day of racing.