Winning Colors

Euthanized yesterday due to complications from colic. She was 23. She was a dark gray who matured into an almost pure white horse (like many grays). One of only three fillies to ever win the Derby. And how could anyone who saw it ever forget the 1988 Breeder’s Cup with Winning Colors and Personal Ensign battling down to the wire? It was probably one of the best races I ever saw, and although I was pulling for Personal Ensign that day to keep her perfect record in tact, the fact that she did it against a gutsy fast mare like Winning Colors added a lot.

Genuine Risk survives as the only living filly Kentucky Derby winner (she also happens to be the oldest living Derby winner).

Barbaro

I am just a casual horse racing fan, but like most of the country, Barbaro captured my heart. He is the first horse (I got lucky again with Street Sense) that I chose to win the Derby who actually won. (The list of horses I chose and who subsquently lost is distingushed and includes Bet Twice, Easy Goer, Point Given, Mister Frisky). I picked him out after the Florida Derby, cheered him home in the Derby, and was shocked and saddened like the whole country by the Preakness. I followed his story carefully and mourned his death at this time last year.

Today his owners announced that he will be buried at Churchill Downs, scene of his greatest triumph. While not one to normally comment on current events such as politics (other than to say I really do think we need some sort of health care net for the uninsurable), seeing the story about Barbaro brought back a whole flood of memories. Horses are the true runners, they are bred and born to run and love it. I think Churchill Downs is a very appropriate place for Barbaro because although I admire his courage in battling for long months to recover from his shattered leg, it’s the image of him winning the Kentucky Derby that will always be in my heart.

John Henry

There is good news on 32-year old legend John Henry. The old fellow’s kidneys appeared to be failing back in September, but as is his custom, John Henry seems to have rallied and is doing well. In the various stories about him that appeared, it came out that apparently he really likes to eat chocolate donuts.

I didn’t know horses could eat chocolate. A champion racehorse who loves chocolate donuts. That is a horse after my own heart.

I’ve considered driving down to the Kentucky Horse Park. I’d really like to see John Henry. It would be the chance to see a living legend. Maybe at the end of the month.

I was the prototypical girl who loved horses. The “Sport of Kings” particularly caught my interest. I especially liked Walter Farley’s books about the Black Stallion and my favorite was one called the Black Stallion’s Courage. My favorite “real horse” was the incomparable, terribly tragic, almost perfect Ruffian.

I haven’t really followed horse racing since Barbaro. Despite following horse racing for years, I had a bad habit of picking the Derby loser; being my choice was assurance that the poor horse would lose … my list of loser picks is long, but distinguished (Bet Twice, Easy Goer, Mr. Frisky, Point Given, you get the picture). Barbaro was the first horse I picked who actually won, so I figured he was going to be special. Alas, Barbaro proved to be special and inspiring — though for a terribly different reason. The saddest words are these: It might have been.

(Oh, how a Cleveland Indians fan really understands those words. Speaking of which, I’m hanging my old-school style “C” cap on the Indians winning the World Series and thereby somehow giving the year 2007 redeeming value. Yes, I like to wear my cap down low over my eyes and yes, I really do have that much hair left after 8 cycles of ABVD. Really, though as Michael says, may the best team win.)

hoping for Barbaro

I have rarely become that attached to active racehorses — there have been exceptions. The first was Easy Goer. Then, Point Given. AP Valentine. Afleet Alex. This year, right after the Florida Derby, I started to follow Barbaro.

Its better not to get attached to racehorses. Racing, as yesterday illustrated, is a cruel game. No horse — no matter how good, how powerful — is immune from the dangers inherent when a 1,200 pound animal lands with tremendous force on ankles not much bigger than that of you or I.
My connection to Barbaro is only casual — all I did was follow him, mostly through reading news stories on the internet. And yet that allowed me to become somewhat emotionally involved and attached. If any other horse had broken down in the Preakness, I would have been sad. I would probably occasionally check for information on his condition. But since I became emotionally invested in Barbaro, well, I feel more than just sad. I feel crushed and heartbroken.

From what I have read online about the extent of his injuries, what I saw yesterday, and from what I know about horse racing, I was actually mildly surprised to not wake up to the news that Barbaro had been destroyed during the night. That gave me some hope that perhaps his injuries were not as bad as I feared. But just now reading an article on The Bloodhorse, I see that the injuries were catastrophic; I imagine almost any other horse would have been put down.

Of course, Barbaro, like Ruffian, was not just any horse, so of course every effort will be made to try and save him. I just hope that he does not end up suffering more in the end in a futile attempt to save his life like Ruffian did.

If you know anything about horse racing, I’m sure you know about Ruffian. Ruffian was a big black filly who was brilliantly and freakishly fast. Like Barbaro, she was undefeated. Like Barbaro, she broke her leg in front of a huge crowd and a national television audience. Although her leg was shattered, an attempt was made to try and save her. But Ruffian did not wake up well from the surgery; she ended up basically destroying herself. She had to be put down that night.

Medicine for racehorses has come a ways since Ruffian. So there is at least reason to hope Barbaro will survive. I know I have my fingers crossed for him. I will probably spend most of the afternoon looking for updates online about his surgery.

goodbye Lion Heart

Going into the Kentucky Derby, I had been following the colt Lionheart. I loved his red chesnut color and he seemed like a speedy guy. I also loved his name. Horses should have good names and Lionheart is a very good name. I was impressed in the Derby with his heart. Lionheart lived up to his name, folding only reluctantly and grudgingly. Despite a pedigree that I would say screamed “MILER,” he hung tough. I still think every time he won over a mile he won on heart. I also thought he showed heart in the Preakness, though I was pulling now for Smarty Jones — what can I say … there has never been a Triple Crown winner in my lifetime and after the Derby Smarty was the only potential candidate.

After Smarty lost the Belmont, I was very disappointed. After the Preakness I thought Smarty was “the One” — he seemed more legit than did War Emblem or Funny Cide. I thought he had the most potential of anyone I’d seen recently, save Point Given who of course lost in the Derby.

Well, of course Smarty’s owners lied about running him at four and when he had a relatively minor injury, he was quickly spirited off to Kentucky to begin his new career with the fillies. I was sad again … But not shocked. Even people with a lot of money (Smarty’s owners are not hurting financially) I guess aren’t sporting.

But after Smarty retired I re-latched onto Lion Heart. He went on to win two more races, one of them a Grade one, and both in his usual gutsy style. I was pulling for him in the Travers Saturday, but was surprised when he just faded after a mile. He is such a game little horse that I figured something must have been wrong with him. Turned out that he broke a bone in his hoof. Its not a life threatening injury, but his owners chose to retire Lionheart since it would take awhile for him to come back. I am disappointed I won’t get to see my red comet blaze through the handicap ranks at age four, but he retires with a legitimate injury. And, he was always just so game.

So farewell Lion Heart. You were an awesome red comet … I wish you could have blazed across the sky for another year, but so be it. You lived up to your name. Enjoy your retirement, boy.

I feel as though I’ve just written Lion Heart’s obituary. It reminds me of a passage in one of Walter Farley’s Black Stallion books (I read every single one about ten million times as a little kid) where he opens a book with an “obituary” of a racehorse which is actually a retirement announcement. The obituary points out that “He’s not dead yet, but for racing fans he might as well be.” The Sport of Kings could learn from that. I am not complaining about Lion Heart’s retirement, I think he had a legit reason, but so many other horses have been retired for very little good reason. The sport is killing itself. It needs stars. Not more stallions. But everybody wants the $$.