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Racing teaches you to dream – but not too hard.

The first time my racing heart was broken was when Cavonnier lost the 1996 Kentucky Derby by a nose. It was even harder when the gallant gelding bowed a tendon in the Belmont Stakes. Luckily for me, a charming gray colt would come along that summer to capture my heart again.

After Silver Charm, there was a speedy colt named Officer, who would be retired not even a year after he had started racing. After Officer came Truckle Feature, a flashy colt that I fell in love with when he was a weanling, who went on to win a few races and run in a few stakes. He was the ultimate dream, a dream that came crashing down when he was euthanized on the racetrack after a workout and a broken leg. That would be my biggest heartbreak. I swore I would give up racing, and a few days later a chestnut filly was named Desert Heat, and the dream began again. A workout in :34 flat would push the dream to its utmost limits, and yet she never ran and was retired a few months later. That would be my biggest disappointment.

What is this dream? It goes beyond the goal of getting a horse to the Kentucky Derby or Oaks. Horsemen may tell you it is the dream of a horse who will lift them from obscurity and secure their financial future. A “dream” horse is the culmination of years, maybe decades of work. For a fan, the dream may be to latch on to a horse early in its career, maybe even before it debuts, and have that horse carry them to glory.

In 2003, I was finding it difficult to recover from Truckle Feature’s death. I thought that perhaps my girlish emotional attachments with horses I would never really own were over. I was becoming as cynical and hardened as it gets – watching a horse break down no longer made me cry.

Armed with the knowledge that I was “done” with all those feelings, I went to Santa Anita to begin working as a hotwalker. It only took a few days before I fell completely head over heels with yet another horse, a bay colt named Action This Day. Every day I saw him going to and from the track and for reasons known only to the heart, I was smitten. That meet, he broke his maiden, and I was there. He went into the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile as a major longshot. He won, and I was there.

That was one of my happiest racing moments. I was a fan of a horse from “early on” and he’d come through with flying colors. Already I was seeing roses, and my sense of excitement was heightened when I moved to Kentucky for school and was going to be attending my first Derby. I'd forgotten that dreams in racing are not often realized. I visited California to see “Action” run in the San Felipe Stakes, where he suffered and injury and ran poorly. Then he came to Keeneland, where I got to spend a little time visiting him for several days, and he ran poorly yet again. It was on to Churchill and the Derby.

The morning of the Oaks, Action’s trainer Richard Mandella, who I had spent a lot of time around in the last few weeks, shook my hand and we exchanged nervous and excited words. He knew of my attachment, and he must have had a little faith hin the horse who kept losing. I still have an Action win ticket from that Derby in my room. Yes, he lost, but the pride I felt seeing that horse in the paddock when My Old Kentucky Home started is a feeling I may never feel again.

I saw Action several more times: training at Del Mar, galloping at Santa Anita, running in his comeback race. He lost twice more, and this week he was retired. Who knows how he will fare as a stallion; I can only hope I will be able to visit him at stud.

With Action’s retirement comes the end of another dream. Somehow, being a fan of his let me have some great times at the racetrack. I wouldn’t trade the times I had with him for anything.

Last winter, I met a newly turned yearling by A.P. Indy out of Sahara Gold. After several Keeneland visits, I watched him sell for over $3 million in the September Yearling Sale. He is the newest dream, one that can lead to ultimate glory in a graded stakes race, or ultimate disappointment in early retirement or injury. Until the career is done, no one knows how it will play out.

That is one of the best parts of horse racing. You can always dream.

1/19/2005


	It Starts With a Dream by Emily Hufford Racing teaches you to dream – but not too hard. The first time my racing heart was broken was when Cavonnier lost the 1996 Kentucky Derby by a nose. It was even harder when the gallant gelding bowed a tendon in the Belmont Stakes. Luckily for me, a charming gray colt would come along that summer to capture my heart again. After Silver Charm, there was a speedy colt named Officer, who would be retired not even a year after he had started racing. After Officer came Truckle Feature, a flashy colt that I fell in love with when he was a weanling, who went on to win a few races and run in a few stakes. He was the ultimate dream, a dream that came crashing down when he was euthanized on the racetrack after a workout and a broken leg. That would be my biggest heartbreak. I swore I would give up racing, and a few days later a chestnut filly was named Desert Heat, and the dream began again. A workout in :34 flat would push the dream to its utmost limits, and yet she never ran and was retired a few months later. That would be my biggest disappointment. What is this dream? It goes beyond the goal of getting a horse to the Kentucky Derby or Oaks. Horsemen may tell you it is the dream of a horse who will lift them from obscurity and secure their financial future. A “dream” horse is the culmination of years, maybe decades of work. For a fan, the dream may be to latch on to a horse early in its career, maybe even before it debuts, and have that horse carry them to glory. In 2003, I was finding it difficult to recover from Truckle Feature’s death. I thought that perhaps my girlish emotional attachments with horses I would never really own were over. I was becoming as cynical and hardened as it gets – watching a horse break down no longer made me cry. Armed with the knowledge that I was “done” with all those feelings, I went to Santa Anita to begin working as a hotwalker. It only took a few days before I fell completely head over heels with yet another horse, a bay colt named Action This Day. Every day I saw him going to and from the track and for reasons known only to the heart, I was smitten. That meet, he broke his maiden, and I was there. He went into the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile as a major longshot. He won, and I was there. That was one of my happiest racing moments. I was a fan of a horse from “early on” and he’d come through with flying colors. Already I was seeing roses, and my sense of excitement was heightened when I moved to Kentucky for school and was going to be attending my first Derby. I'd forgotten that dreams in racing are not often realized. I visited California to see “Action” run in the San Felipe Stakes, where he suffered and injury and ran poorly. Then he came to Keeneland, where I got to spend a little time visiting him for several days, and he ran poorly yet again. It was on to Churchill and the Derby. The morning of the Oaks, Action’s trainer Richard Mandella, who I had spent a lot of time around in the last few weeks, shook my hand and we exchanged nervous and excited words. He knew of my attachment, and he must have had a little faith hin the horse who kept losing. I still have an Action win ticket from that Derby in my room. Yes, he lost, but the pride I felt seeing that horse in the paddock when My Old Kentucky Home started is a feeling I may never feel again. I saw Action several more times: training at Del Mar, galloping at Santa Anita, running in his comeback race. He lost twice more, and this week he was retired. Who knows how he will fare as a stallion; I can only hope I will be able to visit him at stud. With Action’s retirement comes the end of another dream. Somehow, being a fan of his let me have some great times at the racetrack. I wouldn’t trade the times I had with him for anything. Last winter, I met a newly turned yearling by A.P. Indy out of Sahara Gold. After several Keeneland visits, I watched him sell for over $3 million in the September Yearling Sale. He is the newest dream, one that can lead to ultimate glory in a graded stakes race, or ultimate disappointment in early retirement or injury. Until the career is done, no one knows how it will play out. That is one of the best parts of horse racing. You can always dream. 1/19/2005

It Starts With a Dream by Emily Hufford

It Starts With a Dream
by Emily Hufford