Inside the Backside

Late Friday (for a Horseman), Quick Notes

2007-08-03T17:59:00.000-04:00

Thing is, Street has come out of his race phenomenally well. He's eating everything he can get to, including ace bandages. Well, he wears aces on his front legs when he goes to the track, to help support his zillion dollar front legs and ankles. We take them off when we get back to the barn. This morning, he thought putting them in his mouth and flinging around was a la mode, so he did.

You just have to laugh. That horse is the greatest character, I swear.

The morning after the race, sure, the big guy was sleepy. He jogged that day, walked the next and walked again the following morning though, on that second day, I think he would've preferred heading back out to the dirt for a little gallop. The race just didn't take much out of him and he's feeling quite fine.

We have three horses entered Sunday, in races 2, 3 and 4. Should make for some whiz-bang action - there will be a lot to do. So much for Sunday being a day of rest.

But, it's been kind of nice, we've settled into a routine and haven't raced since Monday. That's allowed everyone to catch up on sleep, even go out for some fun (not me, my fun is hanging with Zoe, reading and getting plenty of sleep - I don't know how else to do this). Racing sometimes is like that - these sort of bunches of frenzied activity, followed by some "down" time. Don't get me wrong, I'm still washing all that stuff in the morning and handling 7, 8 sometimes 9 horses but, compared to racing every day, we've had a pretty relaxed pace.

Oh, yay for me! I got kicked today for the very first time. This 2 year old filly, Seemingly, who I actually really like, got me. I was grazing her after her bath this morning. She jumped once, I thought something had spooked her. Ooops. She settled back down, started grazing again and I continued to rub her dry. Then, she jumped again, I again thought she was spooking but, really, the sweet little angel turned her head to the left, saw where I was, took aim and BLAM caught me hard with her left hind hoof on my right thigh.

The shit hurt.

Horses are unbelievably quick, Carl has said faster than a rattle snake (he should know, growing up in rural western Texas). And she was a rocket. I've always been very quick, it was one of my only saving graces in the little organized football I played. I had no prayer with her. Carl was talking about how people will say a horse tried to kick them. He insists that those people are wrong - a horse does not try to kick you - if it wants to kick you, it will and you don't have much of a chance.

Except to be wary - Which I guarantee I will be next time.

But, though I'm sure they're will be a deep bruise, I'm walking fine and the thing only aches a little - there's not a lot of pain. I was lucky - that hoof didn't make contact with bone. That could've been quite the end to my Saratoga adventures.

Zoe's doing well. She's given up coming to the track in the morning - just not interested, it's too early. She wants to come in the afternoon, but it's been pretty skanky-hot here and she doesn't handle that well. But, we get to spend some time outside at the house where we're staying. I think the heat may break today or tomorrow, so perhaps I'll be able to bring her out some more.

Now, it's time to shut this machine off and head home to hound and bed.

Day of the Donkey, Then the Day of Domination

2007-07-31T17:51:00.000-04:00

First, I want to set the scene, because the deal is that the actual racing part of horse racing is a very intense affair. You start your day by rising at 3:00 to feed your Beagle-esque puppy and wash yourself. You arrive at the barn a little after 4:00 a.m. so you can wash, rinse, hang and refill 45 water buckets and feed tubs, though you do have some help with this, because the folks in our barn work every bit as hard as you do, if not harder. You wanna get started that early because the first set of two horses will go to the track about 5:45 - you get done just in time though, on the day of Donkey's race, we're late because we like 7 poultices to wash off, poultice being a kind of clay substance we coat the horses' legs with so those legs and cool off and remain healthy after a almost-race-paced workout called a breeze.

Then, you start catching horses. Catching means you help switch equipment after the horses return from the track, then you hold the animals for their baths, sometimes after a little walk, depending, then you graze the horses for a few minutes while you start to run them dry. I caught 7 or 8 on Donkey's race day, last Saturday - it was literally one right after another, with about a ten minute break around 8 or 8:15 (I can't remember). Then, you help feed - in the morning horses get oats, barley, a sweet feed and herbs - they're fed about 10:30. And maybe a vet comes in to do something to a horse or two or three, so you stop and help with that. About 11:00, you're ready to pack up Zoe, head home, jump in the shower, change clothes (one should dress a little up for the Spa), and head back to the track for the race.

In New York, horses have to go to a detention barn several hours before the race. Once there, someone from our barn has to be with the horse at all times. The guy with Donkey was Jose, his groom. I got there around 11:45 or 12. We were to leave about 1:30, so Jose started getting the horse ready around noon. There were probably fifty horses in our barn, which was actually this huge tent with temprary stalls put in. It was stifling in there - fans were running, but they didn't really get the job done. And, you're in a long sleeve shirt and khakis.

Donkey was pretty well-behaved there - he likes to stand and toss his head up and down when he's happy, and he did a lot of that there.

I paced a little, I always do before a race - before one of Street's I wear ruts in the ground.

The PA lady called for us to come out around 1:30.

Three mistakes and one near miss (if you don't count being attached to Donkey to begin with). Jose's one the right side, with a shank attached and he's in control. I'm on the left side with a strip of leather attached to the halter, the strip being called a pony strap. My job is simple - I'm just there to distract Donkey, not to control him. Being there, most often, helps to keep a horse calm (I was supposed to be on the right side of Street the next day, but that didn't work out because the person who was supposed to carry my bag of equipment wasn't given the right instructions by, uh, me, so Ian walked on the right side - I'm writing this to memorialize that it was an honor that Ian was fine with me doing that, b/c, with a horse like Street, that's a very cool thing to be able to do - I have ego, therefore I am).

First mistake: At the Spa, you gather at this walking ringclose to a fence. OK, no worries. Except, what I didn't realize is that the tracks right there! And the horses race right past where you are. Though our horse and the others couldn't see the racers, they sure as hell could hear them and, when horses hear other horses running full out, guess what they wanna do? That's right, they wanna run too!

Lesson learned: For all other races, be away from that damned fence.

Next mistake: After settling the about-to-bolt Donkey, we left for the padock, but we left first. That's generally not a good idea. Because, the first horse is, of course, the first one to see, um, everything, all the people, all the vehicles, all the everything. And, so, Donkey walked fast. We tried to make him walk slow, but you really can't MAKE a horse do anything, so we walked fast as well, and probably arrived a good 20 lengths in front of every one else.

I was bath-drenched with sweat by the time we arrived.

So, no more leaving first.

Donkey was very nervous in the paddock; he just didn't want to stand, whether it was for saddling or for standing period.

Third mistake: If you're the hotwalker and you have the groom and trainer trying to control Donkey, don't try to help. At the end of the saddling process, we take the shank and halter off and attach the pony strap to the bridle. However, of course Donkey moved when we tried to do this and I put my hand on his chest to stop him - I ended up underneath his head. That's a bad place to be because, if he had reared, his legs would have smacked me right in the head.

So, lesson: Just stay the hell out of the way of a nervoud horse in the paddock unless you're asked to do something.

We got the horse out and got the rider one him. He ran a very good race - Calvin Borel, his jockey, had him well positioned coming down the stretch and we all thought he had a chance to win. He just couldn't quite finish with those three other horses. Carl was very happy with the race.

And, then, Donkey didn't get to go back to his home quite yet (and Donkey quite likes his home - he feels very safe there). Nope - the New York Racing Association elected to send us to the test barn, where we bath, water and cool out the horses before they are urine and blood tested to ensure no cheating. They took, I think 4 or 5 horses from Donkey's race - the testing is somewhat random, though the winner always goes.

Donkey does not really like new things. He was not comfortable in the test barn. We had trouble getting him to stand for his hosing off and bath (you have to put a lot of water on horses when it's as hot as it's been here), I had trouble getting him to settle while I was walking him, he didn't really relax when we put him in the test barn stall to do his business.

I love Donkey, but he gets so nervous that he's very difficult for me to handle well. I tried everything I knew of to get him to relax, but, I guess, he just is the way he is. He think, as he matures, he will likely get better. I sort of feel sorry for him because I want him to feel like there's nothing to fear, but he just kind of doesn't get that. Anyway, we got him home safe and he was a happy baby after that. And, he got more than a dose of TLC.

And, then, there's Street Sense. Now, to set the scene, repeat the Day of Donkey (because we ran, and I walked, a calm, sweet filly named seemingly in the race before Street's). Add the same weather but mix in a suit, 'cause it's the Jim Dandy and we're at the Spa.

If ever a horse knew his job and loved every bit of it, it's Street Sense. He really needed this race - he hadn't run since the Preakness and a guy like Street gets antsy when he hasn't run in a while. He felt very good in the detention barn; he even jumped and squeeled (sp) a little bit. But, because he's a champion (the reigning two year old champion, actually), he spent a large part of the day napping. He would come up to the front of the stall and look out from time to time, but then he'd go right back and hunker down on the left side of the stall.

But, when Street's ready, he's ready. Wasn't particularly enamored of having four bandages, put on his legs, but we got the job done and off we went (we stayed away from that cursed fence with the thundering horses). Sometimes, Street can be really tough in the afternoons heading up to the race - he wants to go, and he wants to go now. But you know what Street absolutely adores, almost more than carrots? Attention! People all along this amazing walking path that's borded by a white picket fence are calling his name, shouting encouragement. And, folks, it felt like the Derby. I don't know how many people attended the races that day, but the entire path we walked was lined with people.

Street also thrives on the attention of cameras - I swear he knows what they are - he pricks his ears when he hears shutters going off. And, once we got to the actual paddock, where he also has been known to insist on leaving right now ("get your hands off of me!!!"), there were so many cameras, he just ate it up.

And, then, he totally ate up his competition. Strange thing to see, him being so close to the lead, but it was, what, a six horse field? Plus, they went fairly slowly, I think, though not as slowly as the Bluegrass Stakes at Keeneland in the spring, where the fractions were ridiculously slow. Still, he was not setting the pace, I don't think, but he was right on it. He's usually a late runner, coming from way behind but Calvin Borel flat knows his job, knew his job and felt the pace that day, and had our horse right where he needed to be, hugging the rail.

That rail, where the other jocks, I think, had Mr. Borel and Mr. Sense pretty well pinned in. I was a little (not much, I mean that) concerned, but then did you see Street bull his way to the front. I mean, he literally pushed his way into the lead, no problem. Great race, and he even had to work a bit for it. Not so tough on him and that Calvin couldn't pull him up a little before the wire, saving his best for later, the Travers 8/25. What a champion - I mean, to got though holes that, really, weren't acually there, so he could make it to the front was the mark of a horse with an enormous and courageous heart. Boom, blam! Get out of my way.

And, he didn't relax on the lead, which he's had a tendency to do. Fantastic performance.

Needless to say, we were glowing.

The next day, a guy could tell he'd done some work, our Big Guy was desirous of some quality snoozing. And some carrots; gotta have those. And, after such an invigorating triumph, he deserved that and anything else he wanted.

Esquela and the Attack of Gorgon

2007-07-27T14:17:00.001-04:00

"Esquela", which I may likely have spelled (or spelt for you Kentuckians) incorrectly, is Spanish for school. Today, we schooled horses. That means the groom preps the horse as if it's going to race. You put some bandages on, clean the critter up, put on a halter (sometimes a bridle, the thing with the bit) and you march up to the track (the groom on the left side with a shank, a very long strip of leather attached to a brass chain attached around the halter, and a hotwalker (myownself) on the right with a much wimpier piece of leather also attached to the racing mammal), to the paddock where the horses are saddled for the races.

The idea is that the horses you're schooling will stand in the paddock and have a look around, see all the people, and maybe get out a little nervous energy, so that, when they return to the paddock on race day, they're not scared out of their minds and, hopefully, will behave themselves.

What also happens is that horses get really, really mad that they've come to the track as if they're going to race, and then they don't. "Ha, ha, horses, just foolin'." Some of them really are alright with this. Others, especially the good ones, look to take out payback on their handlers on the return back to the barn.

Today we schooled Donkey. Donkey gets an "A". What a good boy. Not such a good boy when I brought him out for his rider to get on, seeing as how he, once again, dragged me several yards and scattered a couple of horses. Once again, I tried not to pull, but I ran out of leather to hold on to and, when Donkey goes backward, he goes hard. Sigh.

For schoolin', no worries. He got a little antsy while standing, but was overall pretty calm. Donkey schooling can be a really good idea because he's such a flight risk. I expect him to be fine for his race tomorrow (the third).

We also schooled Street Sense. Oh boy. Street, as opposed to Donkey, gets very, very discontented when he goes to the track and can't run around it and beat all the other horses. And, so, on the way back, Street jumped and threw his head, and jumped, like reared up, threw his head. Repeat that about 7 more times.

Now, I was with Street when Carlos and Jose, our barn foreman (manager) and Street's groom, respectively, schooled him before the Derby. I thought he was going to kill them both coming back. Not really, I guess, but he spent the whole 12 minute walk back to our Churchill barn trying to get rid of Carlos and Jose, so he could go run around the track, which he thought he was supposed to do anyway. Both guys held on. Oh yeah, and we were walking through a sloppy track, mud flying everywhere (in this game, you just have to let go to the elements, so we're hollering back and forth and having a good old time).

So, I gotta grade Street on a curve. Even with a steep one, I'll have to give the fella a B-, just a lot of pent-up anger there - he needs to get in touch with his inner child.

The upside of all this is the endorphine or whatever-generated happiness which comes afterward. I expect Street and Donkey will be a couple of very happy critters tomorrow, and that's just the way we want them.

Another note on today: Today was the first of all my months with Street when he acted up while we were walking - he reared up twice when I was walking him after his morning gallop. That's the sign of a sharp and fresh horse. I guess most people have seen horses rear in a movie or on the tube, but to be right there when the Derby winner does it is something I won't soon forget. It was a beautiful thing to be a part of.

Donkey bolting, not so much.

Now to Gorgon:

I believe Gorgon had been dormant for thousands of years, probably after the onset of the last Ice Age (like I know when that was). The appearance of all these notable persons and horses at the Spa apparently awakened him from his centuries-long slumber within the last week. And, so, Gorgon rose. And Gorgon was hungry, and angry. Very, very angry. He wanted to level Saratoga, the racetrack, and the surrounding town, and thought he might proceed to New York City when he was through. Like himself, Gorgon's powers were still a little hazy from his long dormancy. And, so, Gorgon needed a small test before setting out on greater ventures.

And Gorgon chose Zoe.

But Zoe prevailed, not because of bravery so much on her part (or, really, much bravery at all). Zoe won the day because of the essence of Gorgon - what Gorgon is cannot change over time or through circumstances.

Gorgon, you see, appears first like a rat, not even really a very big rat, just a sort of smallish black rat. And, unfortunately for Gorgon, his teeth aren't very big. And, he's a total chicken, really.

That's because Gorgon is a Chihuahua. A chihuahua (I couldn't capitalize the word again) who attacked Zoe the other day here on the grounds, right behind our barn. Zoe, true to form, tucked tail and slinked away. Gorgon, cowed at last, was retrieved by his handlers. When I saw what was going on, I was stunned for a moment - what was that little thing trying to do around my dog? And then he started yipping, and then his "teeth" started nipping at Zoe's flanks.

It would have been funny if I wasn't so alarmed. In retrospect, it is pretty funny because he's such a ridiculous little creature. I have loved dogs all my life (and there's this great, sweet honey-bear of a Rottweiler who comes around the barn who I just fell for), but chihuahua's are not dogs. As Mark Twain once said of Dachsunds, I think it was, I consider chihuahua's "almost a dog".

"Easy Mama, Relax, Relax"

2007-07-24T18:26:00.000-04:00

See, I told you they were relaxed! This filly, Silent Street, just felt it was time for a flop-down after her morning work. Her nickname here at the barn is “Diabla”, Spanish for “Devil” because, believe it or not, she has horns.
OK, they’re more like nubs really, but teeny bumps of horns she has. She also likes to buck as she walks down the shedrow, just for kicks (ha ha) and it usually doesn’t matter what’s in the way. She’s a bit of a loose cannon, but can also be a lot of fun to be around.
Donkey update: Donkey breezed today. That is, he had a vigorous workout at 80-90% race speed in preparation for his race on Saturday, if he gets in. He did very well and was “brave” in the words of his rider, Ian’s wife Tracy. With Donkey, bravery is a step up from his normal, fear-based, approach to life. He is so content here it’s amazing. At Churchill he was getting a little uptight and it’s wonderful to see him here relaxed and calm and brave.
By “get in” to his race, I meant that racetracks take entries for each race several days before the event. If there are more horses than there are slots in the starting gate (I think it’s 14 at the Spa), then the track picks the entrants at random.
In American racing, field sizes tended to be very good until recently. In recent years, fewer horses have been entered generally, much to the chagrin of handicappers. Bettors like larger fields because the odds tend to be better – shorter fields usually equal shorter “prices”, meaning lower odds on more horses and less money returned.
Thoroughbreds don’t race as often as they did in the past, partly because they may well be more fragile than they have been historically, so they tend to get injured more. Also, purse structures have stayed relatively flat, meaning the amount you get for winning races, generally, is more or less the same today as it was years ago. Personally, I also think owners and trainers tend to be more conservative now than in the past. Just a feeling on my part. There are also probably more reasons I’m not aware of.
Saratoga, however, is definitely not part of the trend with shorter fields. A trainer told me one time that he was taking a string of horses to Saratoga for the meet when he knew full well that none of them had a chance to win. Thing is, his owners wanted to go – so many just want to run a horse here. This meet is very much a see and be seen affair, much like being on the Backside Derby Week is at Churchill Downs.
And, the six weeks of racing here is the finest in the country, its closest competitors being Del Mar in California and the spring and fall meets at Keeneland. And I love Keeneland dearly – the few weeks they run are my most favorite of the year, apart from Derby Week at CD.
But, there is just something about Saratoga. Maybe I’ve written this before, but it’s very easy to see how a person who loves these animals and this game could get lost here – just come here and never leave (forget about winter for the moment). Saratoga is like this Wonderland for horse people. The peaceful ambience just gets into your bones, human and equine alike. Zoe’s even felt it, I think. The feeling is the same as ones we all probably had when we were kids. Imagine getting that one thing you wanted more than anything in the world, whether that was going to Disneyland, scoring a goal in soccer, getting that X-Wing fighter toy complete with R2D2 (I was so about that), getting a puppy or a kitty for your birthday or Christmas – that feeling is what you get here every day.
And, don’t get me wrong, the horse business is not for the lazy. Imagine working non-stop for 6 straight hours, getting pulled in totally different directions several times throughout the morning. And, most of what you’re doing involves animals that can go ape on you at any moment. It’s physically brutal work and, most days, when you get done with the morning, you have a few hours before you come back in the afternoon, either to help feed horses or to race or, Heaven forbid, both.
And yet, if racehorses are in your blood, you just do the work. It’s not so much work, but more like a lifestyle choice. The hours do wear on people and many quit to do 9-5 and have free weekends (there are no weekends in this game). But, other people stay because they love the game and, trust me, when a horse wins who’ve you’ve spent months helping get ready, the natural high, the rush, the elation, is unsurpassed, it’s electric. Other people stay because it’s all they know, but I also know a good number of folks, including some in our barn, who do this just because it’s deep within them to. They, like me, just have to be around these animals.

We're all done, so now we can get started

2007-07-22T17:29:00.000-04:00

Whew boy. Two days, maybe closer to three, of work, and we're ready to get started training and racing.

People in Saratoga, this spa town, say that there's something about the waters here that's beneficial for people and animals. They may well be right.

I swear, all of our horses just settled right in; there wasn't a wacky moment among any of them. Just like with the first eight who arrived, two or three of this set were lying down in their stalls within minutes. Not Street but, you know, all of the horses love the atmosphere here - there's a track right outside where they can watch other horses run around, there's grass to be grazed on, there are hounds around, it's quiet and there's this canopy of trees sort of creating a bit of a hush over everything.

Street got a little anxious once his semi had to stop to be inspected by Department of Transportation guys. The horse just likes to be moving, I think it's that whole Jane Smiley motion/genius thing.

But, he was great when he got here, had a bath and got to graze. And, you know, I said "Hey, Big Horse" to him when he was at the back of the stall and he came up to see me. I sorta felt like he was glad to reconnect. A pretty cool feeling.

Busy day, though, the eight who got in Friday went to the track for the very first time to gallop. There were no incidents there, the horses just got down to business and felt out the track. Those 8 had to be bathed and done up when they got back and, in the middle of that, the truck with the other 6 arrived. Chop, chop!

At Churchill, a lot of our responsibilities are pretty regimented - each person knows and does his or her job. Here, and on the road in general, everybody just sort of pitches in - a hotwalker will roll bandages, help do up horses, rake the shed, whatever needs to be doing, the idea being that it's all work and it all has to be done, so just work all the time and everybody will get done more quickly.

It's backbreaking stuff but overriding it all, or at least riding along with it, is the deep feeling of how extraordinary this all this. I've gone on about Street plenty, and he's definitely the reason I'm able to be here and the reason this year has been so constantly joyful, but I need to say too that Saratoga is this sport's very best meet, every year.

The track has been here forever (I think the Travers may be the oldest race in the country), and each corner of this place exudes history, as well as class. As someone in town told me, at Saratoga, everyone shows up - it's the event most horsepeople try to get to. It's not only important to run here, but running well here is noticed by the important people in the business, partly because having a winner or a good showing is very difficult - the competition is extraordinary. I think Saratoga is also called "The Graveyard of Champions", so called because of the track's and competition's tendency to cause defeats of previously spectacular performers.

There are champion's everywhere here. We can expect to see all the healthy big name horses who've run well this year. Street, Curlin, Rags to Riches (though maybe she got hurt the other day, not sure, I'm not to well informed about much of anything right now - Hey, I come from the home of the Know Nothing Party, gimme a break), The Tin Man (I hope, a very cool old guy, you gotta love the old ones, especially old great ones who are still running well), think of a big name runner, and they'll be here.

Why else would a guy be sitting once again outside of Donkey's stall and taking the time to write this, to memorialize, when he has to get up at 3:30 and jump right into the machine again. After a day of hard work, with things going well, it's good to take a few moments and look back on the day. I learn something every day I didn't know before but, in back of it all, in my head, is great joy at being privileged just to be able to take part.

Chillin' with the Donkey

2007-07-21T16:41:00.000-04:00

Saratoga just seems to say "animals are welcome here." Zoe's been given, more or less, free reign to move around as she wishes, except when we're training in the morning; my girl doesn't see or hear so well anymore and generally seems to think that whatever is in her way is responsible for getting out of it. With horses, maybe that's not so good. So, for a few hours every morning, I put her on a leash outside the barn, the leash being connected to a screw-eye set in the barn wall.

She was looking at the horses this morning like "Oh my, my, but that thing is too big to be real and it's moving. Better be careful." And she was.

But, and this is the kind of thing I love about being around animals, we got done training his morning (all the horses were just walked around the shedrow in the barn, giving them a little stretch and getting them used to their surroundings) and Donkey, methinks, fell in love with Zoe. He just couldn't stop checking her out. At one point, as Zoe and I are sitting in front of his stall, he and the hound were nose-to-nose. Zoe, being a good flirt, was aloof. Well, Zoe can actually be aloof alot or, rather, it's more like her MO for life. She'll come see you if she's interested, not if you are. Plus, Donkey was making these sort of sucky, piggy, tongue on the roof of his mouth kind of sounds and who, really, wants to be around that? In any event, both canine and equine are "fixed", so perhaps this is a platonic affair of the heart, at least on Donkey's part.

Well, our first set of 8 horses got in safely. Better than that, they all seemed pretty happy from the start. Donkey and a filly named Seemingly lay right down in their stalls and snoozed, always a good sign of a nice and relaxed horse. Sometimes horses are a little uptight when they've shipped in, and it was nice that our guys weren't. Everybody just settled right in!

The day wasn't quite so relaxed for the people - first we had to unload the gobs of stuff we use to take care of the horses; that was about a three hour hefting job. We also had to carry the groom's stuff off. I was a little sore from all that, and I'm in decent shape at least from having wrestled horses all year.

Then of course, we had to set everything up. Webbings, hay, rakes, tack, feed, herbs, buckets, boxes, you name it, the barn had to be made ready. But, when you have a lot of people and they're all willing to work (and we were), we got it all done. We finished a good bit of the setup this morning. There's sort of a sigh that all this stuff is accomplished. It amazes me sometimes how hard people in the horse business work without complaint. Carlos and Alejandro, two very fine grooms, those guys hadn't had much sleep for over a day and they come and get right to work. I mean, heavy work too. It makes you want to work that much harder yourself - there's this sort of empathy you get, "we're all in this together and we're all busting our butts".

Good thing we're ready, too, because tomorrow is our first day of track training, meaning the 8 will go to the racing surface for their morning gallops. Plus, Ian , Mr. Nafzger's partner and co-trainer, has said tomorrow is an "open house" day at Saratoga meaning, I think, that the public is welcome to come wander around the barns and the grounds. So, maybe big crowds and our first day on the dirt, big day!

Street should get here about noon and I'd imagine there'll be some people here to check him out. They better not disturb his napping, though! Street's one of the biggest nappers I've been around - it's like he conserves all the energy he can. He may be a little wound up tomorrow since, like the other horses, he too has been aboard a truck for more than 24 hours. We'll see. Maybe he'll be like a person who, even after having just driven, just sat in a vehicle for a long time and not exerted his or herself, is nonetheless flat whipped when they get where they're going. I'll raise my hand as having recent and firsthand knowledge of this.

Today I also learned all about feeding. Our horses get to munch on hay almost all day; they also get a bit of alfalfa after their morning work. Twice a day, though, about 10:30 and again at 4:30, they get this fine-smelling mix of barley, oats, sweet feed and various herbs and magical potions. Just kidding on the last, though they do get various all natural dietary supplements designed to help the development and maintenance of all their various parts. I don't know that I'll be feeding every day but, once we're racing, it will be good to know how to do it so I can fill in for someone who's running a horse, or someone who has a day off.

I think things will get extremely busy once the meet opens. Apparently in New York, you have to take your racing horse to a detention barn like 6 hours before the horse runs. I think they do this to monitor the horse and be sure everything is being handled properly. Or, bluntly, they want to make sure nobody's cheating by giving the horses substances to enhance their performance. I'm not 100% sure this is why we have to go over so early, but I'm thinking that's probably the case.

In any event, early it is and that means that you'll be short one person at some point during the day. If you're racing at one, you have to be in the detention barn at 7:00 - that's the heart of the training part of the day, meaning someone will have to fill in for someone at that point.

And that's fine, just part of the deal, but I wanna know how to feed so I can get that part of the job done if needed.

And now we're at the end of our day. The horses have been fed and are settling in to the evening as the sun starts to settled a bit. It's a leisurely feeling here. Though we all certainly put in our share of effort today, we're set up pretty well and that gives a guy a pretty peaceful feeling. Racetracking is often a hectic and stressful enterprise, there's a lot to do in a compressed time. So, when I get a chance to sit back like this outside the stall of Donkey and reflect a bit, I'm reminded of the love affair I have with these animals and this game.

And Street's not even here yet!

The Horses Are Coming, the Horses Are Coming

2007-07-20T10:28:00.000-04:00

It's kind of like Derby - there's no place I'd rather be that right here, right now. Zoe and I (the former napping right here in the shedrow) are sitting at our barn waiting for 8 of our 14 horses to arrive from Kentucky - They've been on the road for more than 24 hours and I'm sure there's some exhaustion on the part of the two grooms, Alejandro and Carlos, who are with them. Part of our job today will be helping those two guys as much as possible, so they can rest.

And, the horses, imagine being a juvenile athlete designed to run and roam, but being pent up for more than a day - there'll be lots of energy, nervous and exercise-needy, when these 8 arrive (Street is coming in Sunday - worked 5/8ths of a mile in 57 and 2/5 seconds yesterday, the last 1/8th in 10 seconds!!! - wow!! He galloped out in 1:09, very fast considering he was slowing down on purpose at the end. He shold be loaded for bear for the Jim Dandy, though I imagine he's a little endorphine-sleepy today!).

But, the setting - it is just flat lovely here - I can hear the wind somewhere between a whisper and a rush blowing through the ancient trees which surround us here at Clare Court. After two cloudy, rainy days, we have blue upstairs and some soft, willowy clouds. I feel like I'm at a picnic with Zoe and my friend Kate, who's one of our riders. I would be perfectly content to sit here all day, write a little, drink some coffee, nap a little, take a little stroll, watch the horses work. The peace of the place creates peace in a guy too.

But, there'll be much work to be done n just a little bit. You're never actually quite sure when the horses will arrive, but here comes a van now (not us). We'll need to get the horses off the van and settled in their stalls, where they have some alfalfa awaiting them as a tasty treat (alfalfa smells like heaven itself must - so healthy and rich and of-the-land).

And there's the unpacking - feed tubs, water bucks, saddles, bridles, halters, webbings (the "doors" to the stalls), fans, the guys' stuff, more buckets, the list is quite long.

We'll be here for a long while today.

Once the horses are settled and the unpacking is done, we'll start getting ready for feed time in the afternoon. I'll be here all day to watch the horses and to update Ian, Carl's co-trainer (they're in a unique, as far as I know, partnership) about how they're doing.

Well, the batteries dying on the laptop and more vans are pulling in.

I'll try to post an update later to tell everyone how the day went.

If Zoe gets any more laid back, people may think she's in a coma. What a gal - she's really taken right to the bucolic nature of both the barn and where we're staying. Happy hound. Now, if we can just get the horses to relax like that, all will be good.

Dog is My Co-Pilot

2007-07-18T14:56:00.000-04:00

We made it, and in fine shape too! After a slightly spooky night in Erie, PA (I was sort of surprised to see my vehicle still there when Zoe and I went outside in the morning), the Zo-Monster and I glided in to Saratoga Springs about 5:00 yesterday afternoon. We were a little road weary, but not as bad as the night before (I thought, toward the end of Monday night, that I was having an out of body experience; the road is like to hypnotize a guy).

Saratoga Springs is a gorgeous place. I'm sitting downtown now, at the Saratoga Springs Visitor Center, where they gave a guy Internet access for free, so I'm sitting outside at a picnic table with, can you Kentuckians believe it???, a jacket on, of all things.

It's been raining all day and it's cool, especially by a south of the Mason-Dixon line guy's standards.

But, it's quaint here - sort of like an old small town meets Chicago's Miracle Mile - there are upscale shops everywhere and the town is very tidy. And, it's fairly quiet, though there are a lot of people around, going about their days.

But the silence is enchanting at the track. We're at Clare's Court, as our section of the Spa (a nickname for Saratoga) is called. You drive under this one-car wide, low-ceilinged, tunnel to get there and your path is surrounded on all sides by trees. When I got to the barn, the first thing I noticed was the silence. That's great for horses, them not being especially vocal animals.

And our barn at Clare's Court is surrounded by this very narrow training track - I know of at least four tracks here and I'm sure there're more. I thought this track was a horse walking path, sort of like the one's you see at Keeneland, for those of you who've been there. But, no, out of the silence I heard the unmistakeable "thumpity, thumpity, thump" of horses galloping. And, whereas at Churchill Downs you're always several feet from the track, here you could reach out and touch the animals as they thundered by. Quite a thing to see.

You have to love ow dedicated this town is to horses. There are guards who stop traffic on surrounding roadways so horses can cross to get the tracks, or get back to their barns. A place where horses have the right of way! Well, most of the are probably worth more than the stopped cars combined, so it's probably prudent as well as charming!

We spent this morning getting the stalls ready for the horses' Friday arrival - 11 or 12 of them then, but I think Street comes in later, possibly in his own chariot.

I did very glamarous things like this morning rake the shedrow, put screw eyes in the walls so we can hang feed tubs, water buckets, and the like. More fun than that, though, was sweeping cobwebs out of the stalls. The stuff even gets in your eyes! Yipee!!!

Naw, really, that's just part of the job. And, even though the rain poured, I was quite content to get what we could ready for our horses to come in (footnote: Donkey's coming as well - as koo-koo as he was the other day, he's a very sweet and kind horse and it will be fun to have him here. Plus, I didn't let him get the jump on me the day after he exploded - I just kept an eye on him and talked to him and he didn't act out - whether that was just luck or not, I'll never know).

Zoe the Wonder Dog is doing very well. I think she really took to the setting this morning, even with the rain. She even followed me outside, and got her self wet, which is usually a Zoe no-no (she is an urban dog, and does so enjoy shelter - she believes she will dissolve in water, generally speaking) and watched horses galloping around the training track (and didn't even bark at them!).

She didn't come with me here to the Visitor's Center, though. I think she felt she needed a great big ole nap before feed time tonight. She's been a joy to have along. How cool that I can take her to the track with me!

We get to enjoy the next day or so without a whole lot to do. We're not charged with many duties until the horses actually get here. That'll be nice, so I can finish unpacking, get groceries, sleep in (for one day) and generally just relax. That'll be good for the dog too.

It's about time to head back out to where I'm staying, unpack, maybe catch a nap and get around to that doing nothing I've been thinking about for the last hour or so. Fading, fading, too much manual labor, soft lawyer guy's hands are sore. Feel my pain?

Please don't. Feel my joy at being here. What an extraordinary place.

Day of the Exploding Horses

2007-07-15T20:59:00.000-04:00

By the title, I don't mean flatulence. Though, if you're every around a horse with that issue, duck, because the concussion might deafen you and/or cause brain damage.

No, this morning I was lulled into that peaceful, dreamy state I sometimes get on Sundays, just because of the quiet at the track. You see, the Police played a concert at Churchill Downs last night, so the track itself was closed for training yesterday and today. That meant no one was riding horses up to the track, there was no hollering back and forth of "good mornings" between riders and barn workers, there was no yelling jokes over the roar of the fans running in the barns to help keep the heat (and bugs) away. Just the sort of morning that can be pretty rare at a racetrack, unless it's closing for the winter. A nice, quiet day.

Until we started walking horses. Since they couldn't go to the track, each of our Thoroughbreds was walked around the shedrow - doing that gets a little leg stretching in them, just a bit of exercise while the grooms clean up the stalls and prepare them for the rest of the day.

I never know why this happens but, occassionally, it seems like more horses than normal act up - it's like monkey see, monkey do, or quite possibly a collective reaction to being pent up for a couple of days.

Whatever the reason, there was an adventure or two. I gotta tell you about Donkey. That's our nickname for Kettle Hill, a four year son of Pleasent Tap who is huge, sweet and not so bright, I'm afraid. Or, rather, he's afraid - he has a pretty high instinct for self preservation which means, essentially, that if a situation worries him, he generally thinks it's a good idea to leave, and leave quickly, without a whole lot of regard for who's around him or who wishes he would stay where he is.

To give you an idea of the scope of this animal, Donkey is probably somewhere around 18 hands, a hand being 4 inches, 18 of them being about six feet, but that's six feet from the ground to the base of Donkey's whithers or, more or less, his neck. There's a lot more of Donkey above that, though there's no so much of Donkey between his ears.

So, I'm holding Donkey for his bath today and he has this device called a Stabilizer on - a Stabilizer is this wonderful invention - it's a sort of pully-type deal that wraps behind the horse's ears and then runs down the face into the mouth, where it sits between the gums and the teeth. I'm talking to a groom from the barn across from ours about what a Stabilizer does, how it puts pressure on this gland behind the ears and releases endorphins (or other happiness chemicals) and helps keep the horse calm.

We're finishing up the bath and I'm finishing up my explanation, walking Donkey away and back into the barn when Donkey explodes, just moves as fast as he can, backing up, backing up. Now, the first rule when a horse does this is not to pull on them - you let them go back a little and then they stop, you pause, let them get their bearings and then you can start walking again. Unless of course your name is Donkey. Back he goes, stop, no pulling, wait, but back he goes, and on and on until we've gone probably 150 feet. Don't pull, right?, but that's kind of hard not to do when you've more or less run out of lead to hold on to.

Eventually, only through some kindness on the part of God or some rational part of Donkey's psyche (doubtful), he did stop, calm down and I was able to walk him around the barn in peace (after my heart slowed).

Every time this happens (which, thankfully, really isn't very often), I try to puzzle out why. And, you can't. Some things with horses just are. Frustrating, I guess, but you learn to accept the animals and the situations for what they are.

I even asked a good friend of mine this morning if there's anything you can do to calm them down more quickly and he said, "Find a wall for them to bump into". Sigh.

Similar deal with our sweet baby two year old grey filly, Lenawee. Calm, calm, especially for a "baby", as we call two year old horses. Today, though, we needed to squeal and buck a couple of times during our walk.

Same deal with Deep Canyon, a gorgeous black recently gelded horse who's one of my all time favorites. Even he was throwing his head up in the air and jumping about.

The best of the bunch - None other than Street, who is maybe the best walker I've ever had - he doesn't spook, doesn't act up, doesn't mess around, just walks. It's like he knows motion is a good thing for a horse, it's what they do.

I think of Jane Smiley's novel "Horse Heaven" a lot when I think about Street or am around him. In the book, there's a horse who ends up going on to win one of Europe's most prestigious races, Le Prix de L'Arc de Triomphe. There's a great scene in which Smiley writes that this horse has a kind of genius, in that he is obsessive about one particular thing and he does that one thing better than any other horse. The horse likes being in a horse trailer travelling around, he's doing a thing he enjoys, a thing he thrives on.

The thing is motion - horses depend on it, they live because of it, they love it and, some of them, like Smiley's animal character and Street, have made some kind of connection between motion and being the fastest and the best. And so, for the gifted ones, maybe motion in any kind of form makes them happy.

Saturday July 14 notes

2007-07-14T11:57:00.000-04:00

I was struck this morning by how mellow Street was - thought maybe it was the weather (a little hot here in Louisville), or just a quiet day in the mind of the Big Guy.

Well, truth be told, I couldn't quite wake up in time to make it to the track yesterday morning. Turns out Street breezed yesterday, which means he ran a lap around Churchill at just below race speed. Trainers do this to get (and keep) horses fit, especially when they have a race in their future, as Street does - he'll next run in either the Jim Dandy at Saratoga 7/28, or in the Haskell at Monmouth in New Jersey on, I think, August 5.

So, my reward was a thouroughly content and slightly sleepy champion. That means he didn't move around a bunch while I held him for his bath (he usually likes to play a game of "keep track of me if you can" - I juke left, he jukes right - ha ha, very funny, but it's great entertainment if you're a horse - if you're a people, you just sigh, laugh and deal with it - keeping him happy and healthy is the top goal for all his handlers).

And I'm very glad to say happy and healthy he certainly is. He's also a great character; he has as much personality and intelligence as any horse I've ever worked with.

We had more work to do together after bath time. The breeze and following endorphine high (or whatever) also meant I was likewise blessed with a happy horse while I rubbed him dry. Being "rubbed out" (taking rub rags and swirling them about the animal), as we call it, is not something high on Street's list of favorite activities, though we've kind of come to a compromise, insofar as it must be done, he doesn't much like it, but he tolerates the intrusion while I talk to him and try to get the job finished quickly. Singing to him also seems to help, as long as I don't try to hit high notes, which he thinks rather sounds like a cat whose tail has just been crunched.

One of the wonderful things about this guy is seeing how gratifying it is for other people just to be around him. One of our exercise riders, Lucia, normally rides other horses in our barn but, this morning, she got to ride Street. I took a picture of the two of them with my camera phone and was able to send them to her. Lucia is from the Czech Republic and has been with us since the start of this year. Imagine how cool it is to send your friends back in Europe some shots of you on the Derby winner! Lucia's good people and I was glad to see her sitting pretty this morning.

And now, it's about time for that post-track nap. I do love the barn in the mornings, but my energy peack tends to peak and then collapse around noon.

2007-07-13T14:25:00.000-04:00

Well, this year has been so extraordinary, something so beyond my wildest dreams, that I want to start recording as much as I can of it. Thing is, a horse like Street Sense, if you're really, really lucky, comes along once in a lifetime. I think it's time to share the experience, insofar as I'm able. It's a great story to tell, but only because of the greatness of the animal.

And, as if winning the Breeders Cup Juvenile and the Derby weren't enough (they are), I'm lucky enough to be able to travel with this remarkable, fascinating, superlative, intelligent and occassionally maddening (OK, maybe more than occassionally) racehorse to Saratoga Springs, New York for a six week adventure as he chases the Jim Dandy and Travers Stakes. I'll help take care of him, which means, mostly, I'll walk him around in great big circles. More on that and what else I'll be doing, later.

I've learned more about horses from this one guy than I ever expected I would.

I help take care of racehorses because I love the animals and the game, so there'll be more to this story than the champ (we're taking 12 horses with us), but he's the reason I get to pack up my hound Zoe (Dog of Power and Horse Warder Extraordinaire, when she's not asleep) and my belongings and trek to the Far North.

This'll be the first time in my 6 year involvement in racing that I've left home, work and family and just been a racetracker. And, Saratoga is quite the place to be one, from what I've heard. Much of the excitement of this trip comes from hearing story after story about the Spa, and wondering what it's actually going to be like. So, some of what I'll post here will be about the inevitable encounters with racetrack characters (many of whom are more or less straight out of "Cannery Row") and whatever oddball stories I hear or about or, heaven forbid, become a part of.

Well, that's the first post, my "mission statement", if you will, to tell stories about Street and his relatives, about the game, about caring for the critters, and about the track, the people and the passion of horseracing. The game is, to me, the most beautiful, primal, romantic, heart-rending and sublime of human and animal undertakings and I'm excited to communicate what I can about it.