The
'Big Horse'
by Emily Hufford
Working at the racetrack is an unforgiving and thankless
job for many. Seven days a week, 365 days a year, year after year; for
many it will last a lifetime. I spend many mornings at Churchill Downs,
watching the same process day after day.
Every day after the break, a nearly black colt steps
onto the track and completes his exercise. To him, it is just another
day, but for those around him, this is "it." Each day brings
him closer to the ultimate goal, the Breeders' Cup Classic at Lone Star
Park on October 30th. There is an intensity about his every move, and
electrifying feeling that those around him get whenever he goes to the
track. This morning he breezed, his final workout before heading to Texas.
Soon, I won't see him anymore.
His name is Roses in May, and he is my "big horse."
He is the best horse I see every day, he is the kind of horse that every
owner and trainer dreams of. For him, every morning is another chance
to goof around; some of his favorite games are biting at the shank, shaking
his body, and attempting to dislodge his blanket. On the track he is serious,
moving with all the ease and athleticism in the world, but in the shedrow
he is far less so. Thankfully, his talent in the morning has transffered
into a fantastic career in the afternoon; in ten starts he has seven wins,
including three graded stakes this year.
There is a power and thrill about him that cannot be
described in words. For one quiet moment, I set my hand upon his muzzle
and he stood stock still, head up, ears pricked, like a giant black statue
waiting to be admired. Today I went to say goodbye, because I know I will
not see him until after the Breeders' Cup, and in a game fueled by quick
return on investment and driven by the breeding industry, it is too much
to hope that I will ever see him at the track again. In two weeks, his
place in history will be defined. Until then, hopes and dreams ride upon
his shoulders, almost as if he were the kind of star that you could wish
upon.
I watched him today during his bath as he nipped at the
shank and fussed. His handlers go about their business as if he isn't
one of the best horses in the entire country. They pretend as if the weight
of anticipation isn't burdening their every move. Every day they have
an entire shedrow to feed, exercise, and take care of. But horses like
him make it worth it.
10/16/2004
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