Lion Heart by Emily Hufford

Lion Heart © 2004 Emily Hufford

The first time I heard about Lion Heart was when he broke his maiden at Santa Anita on October 24, 2003, in his first career start. I listened to the call from the airport while picking up a group of friends for the next day's Breeders' Cup World Thoroughbred Championships. The hype surrounding this Lion Heart almost immediately turned me away from him. He was a little horse who had to be seen to be believed. He won that race by only a length, but in the process he defeated two horses who would go on to win graded stakes: Boomzeeboom and Preachinatthebar.

Three weeks later I watched on TV as he crushed the Hollywood Prevue field by six lengths. Again I felt skeptical about who this red speedball had beaten, and wrote him off as "just another two-year-old." Many of my friends were believers, but I could hardly allow myself to think that his sprinter's build and breathtaking speed would carry him past a mile.

The second to last week of December I chose to go to the Hollywood Starlet, a race for two-year-old fillies, and not its male counterpart, the Hollywood Futurity, because I didn't think highly of the Futurity field. Lion Heart won that as well, by 3 1/2 lengths. The whispers became shouts. This undefeated red colt was drawing rave reviews.

I didn't see Lion Heart in person until March of 2004. He had already lost his three-year-old debut in the San Rafael Stakes, missing by a neck to Imperialism. He was easy to spot during his gallop; his coat was flaming red, as if on fire, and his muscles flashed powerfully as he tore around the turn and down the stretch of Santa Anita's fabled racetrack. He came back to the gap and stared straight at me, and I felt chills run down my arms. There was fire in his eye, the same kind of fire that burned in his heart. I fell in love at that moment.

I followed him back to the barn, gasping for air with excitement. Why hadn't I seen it before, that long swinging walk, those powerful running muscles, why, he was no sprinter at all, I knew he could go a distance. I had the privilege of standing with him during his bath and watching him walk the shedrow for nearly an hour. Every time he swung his head to glare at me, I felt that desire again. Lion Heart had captured me fully.

Once back in his stall, I walked over to him to meet him one-on-one. His connections warned me to be wary because he was quick with his teeth and if he attacked, he wouldn't be playing, he would mean business. I had no reason to be afraid, and boldly set my hand on his muzzle, drinking him in. An instant later I reeled backwards when in a flash of pinned ears his teeth grazed my fingers. There was no time for love and games with Lion Heart. He wanted to run, and be left alone.

The next time I saw him was at Keeneland for the Blue Grass Stakes. He was walking the shedrow, his long muscles bunching and uncoiling, and even from a distance I knew it was him. Hours later I saw him grimly lose to The Cliff's Edge, earning a spot in the Kentucky Derby. By the time the Derby rolled around, my excitement was at a fever pitch. Deep down inside, I really believed that Lion Heart could pull off an upset.

Derby week I saw him again when he visited Churchill Downs to school for the big race. He appeared on the track like a flame, head bowed and powerful muscles reaching out at the dirt, and when he returned to the barn a throng of reporters followed. Lion Heart kicked out at the crowd - or perhaps his groom - several times, keeping everyone on their toes. I watched him walk for another hour.

I will never forget that day, standing at the doorway of the barn where Lion Heart was walking. The barn was cool and quiet and blocked off from the mass of media outside. Lion Heart walked quietly, and all I could hear were the quiet clicking noises in his legs and the soft footfalls on dirt as he sauntered past time and time again.

When Lion Heart relinquished the lead to Smarty Jones in the Derby, I felt deflated, as if someone had squeezed all the air out of my body. He held on for second, my pride was restored, and going into the Preakness I was a full-blown Lion Heart fan. I arrived at Pimlico a day before Lion Heart did, and waited all afternoon for the van that would carry him. Somehow I missed his arrival, but the next morning I was presented with a gift that I will always treasure: a shoe from Lion Heart's foreleg. All week I watched him gallop and walk and bathe and graze. Against the bright green of the grass he made a stunning picture, his red coat was dazzling in the morning light.

I really believed Lion Heart would win the Preakness as well, but Smarty Jones proved to be too much and Lion Heart finished fourth. After being given a break, he was pointed for the Long Branch Breeders' Cup Stakes, which he narrowly won with less than satisfactory conditioning, all on guts and heart. Then he was pointed to the $1 million Haskell Invitational (gr. I) on August 8th. 1 1/8 miles later, after runningly freely on the lead and turning back all challengers in the stretch, Lion Heart won that as well. The Travers seemed solely in his grasp until a broken bone stopped his bid for a championship midway around the far turn. He was retired the next day.

Hopefully Lion Heart will come to stand in Kentucky, where I can see those burning eyes again. Hopefully he will sire horses with his brilliant speed and his gritty determination. But until he proves his worth as a stallion, I will have to be content to remember his competitive spirit on the racetrack. I had no choice, Lion Heart made me a fan.