The Face Off

The Stable Face Off Maiden Turf had five entrants, two of which were from Silver Stride Stables. Wannado Voodoo, Sara, and Desperate Appeal, Desi, had drawn gates four and five. On the day they would be facing the likes of Nochebuena, Brave Angel and Prince Arthur. On the day, they would be fighting to show themselves to be the best and to get themselves those precious positions in the top three. For Sara, it seemed a long shot. Three starts so far had led to three seventh place. But then Desi was in a similar boat, with her two starts ending in eight positions. But each race provided exerience, and in Matthias' eyes that experience would soon add up to wins.

As with all races, the workout began at the starting gate, which with some horses was a dramatic affair. But that was not the case with Sara and Desi - the pair took to the gate well enough. Neither kicked up a fuss, nor did they even seem to resist gating. Instead, they just did as their handlers wished and entered the gates, allowing the shutters to be closed behind them once they had. The jockeys knew what lay ahead for the pair - a run which was shorter than what they would face on race day, designed to get them ready for race day without tiring them out completely.

Once the gates opened Desi broke quickly, settling herself beside the rail. The black filly took up a high pace with a short stride. Sara, on the other hand, broke more slowly and took up a pace slightly slower than that of her rival, her ears perked as she moved across the turf. Through most of the race she remained tucked behind Desi, losing ground but as she came into the corner she started to increase her speed, preparing for the stretch.

Desi knew well enough what was coming and as Alexia cracked the crop against her rump she surged forwards. Sara, however, was already beside her and they remained head on head for a while before Sara surged past. The post was taken, but there was little distance between the two fillies and it was certainly going to be interesting to see them on race day.

Despite a very late start the previous year, leading him to having only one start as a two year old, Perry was doing well as a sprinter. The bay colt, purchased in a sale from Stride of Perfection Stables had a nasty temper and a way with humans that could only be described as vicious. However, when it came to the track it appeared that his temper paid off. Now three years old, he had run a total of five races with one win, one place and one show. It meant his consistency on the track was exactly sixty percent but that his experience was really more that of a two year old than a three year old. Still, he was a nice colt on the track and it was likely he would improve greatly over the next year. He would have a long career, too, and who knew whether or not he would end up running against his younger brother, also owned by Silver Stride Stables, at some stage.

For Perry, the grade five turf sprint would be a chance to prove himself in a bigger race though it would not be an easy ride. With little experience he was really being thrown into the deep end - very much in the way that some parents would teach their child to swim. In that situation it was either swim or die. In this case, it was run well or lose and Perry hated to lose, so the likelihood was that the competetive streak in him would fuel a good race. Even if they did not win, a high placing would look good on his somewhat small record and perhaps push him to a point where he may be classed as a high-class runner. For now though they were stuck in small races and until they had some more races, and wins, under their belt that was the way it would stay.

In a field of eight runners, Perry had drawn gate four, and it was going to be a tough race for the colt. Especially as some of the other entrants had a great number more races under their belts than he did, giving them a big advantage. But Perry had determination on his side, a love to run and stamina which most sprinters lacked. He had a fiery soul and a hatred of losing which spurred him to do well. With preparation, and the only human he allowed near him without hurting her, on his side Perry was able to achieve great things. He would prove such, with all the pride and attitude that was typical of his behaviour.

The handlers were having a problem. With Alexia already mounted, it was time to gate the colt and he wasn't having any of it. Anyone who knew the colt knew that on top of his hatred of humans he hated the gate, so when you mixed humans with the gate it was not a pretty sight. He was rearing, kicking, and generally doing anything he could to avoid the fate that was awaiting him. As one handler tried to grasp his bridle the colt released ivory teeth, staining them red with the handler's blood. The handler quickly withdrew, swearing. Luckily, however, the handler which had dealt with Perry since he had first arrived was around and adeptly took hold od the colt, pulling him into the boox before making his escape. As he did so, the other handlers closed the gates thankfully behind the colt.

It was obvious the colt was not happy. Ears were slicked across his skull, tassel snapping viciously at his rump as he stared at the gate hatefully. Waiting, somewhat impatiently, for them to open. He felt trapped, he felt liked the sides of the box were closing in on him like ahuge mouth, trying to consume him. He tossed his head in anger, eyes flashing, and as soon as the gates were open he bolted out of the demonish thing, flying down the track.

Stride by stride, he threw himself into the run. Soon, his mind was no longer on the gate but on the track ahead of him. On he chance he had to run. He enjoyed this, being able to run, and while he tried to deny it to himself he had allowed some semblance of a bond to begin to build between him and the small, blonde, female jockey upon his back. As she settled with his stride, he was able to find joy in his situation. The wind as it pulled through his mane, the feel of it upon his skin. The turf beneath his strong hooves which tore it up without mercy. The aftermath of a good run was always the damage of hooves on turf, especially when they were wielded with the power and determination which his were.

With two furlongs remaining, Alexia began to drive the competetive colt, the crop meeting with his flank as they powered forwards, speed surging as he threw what he had left into those last few moments. He knew the run was coming to an end, that soon he would have to return to the stable, and while he hated the thought he wanted to impress. He wanted to be the best. He would not give in, never would he give in. Flying past the post just meant one run was over, there would be others. Soon.

He was the first racehorse they had ever owned, a stunning chestnut colt with sabino markings. Raised by Alexia, who had always insisted he was special, he was from unproved racing lines and so had been in many ways an uncertain prospect. However, he had not performed badly and the young colt - whose preferences were between sprinting and miling - had above a seventy-five consistency level from his thirteen starts which included two wins and would hopefully soon include a third, this time in a major race. After all, it was not like the colt was unproven on the track having placed in the Breeder's Cup Juvenile Sprint the previous year.

The Face Off really was a chance for him, although some of the competition he would be facing was tough. But it was like everything else, a little work could win the race and a little work was exactly what he would receive. Alexia had already made it clear she wanted to help the colt succeed and so work would begin. By the time race day came, Aztec would be as ready as he could possibly be.

At least they could be sure he would be running his best and not messing about, seems as his preferred jockey had already committed to riding him for the big race so he would not be throwing one of his characteristic strops. He only ever really ran under Alexia, and it would always have to be that way because he fought like a monster otherwise. In the colt's mind, Alexia was the only one that should be allowed to ride him and he made it clear every time another jockey tried to mount him. Yes, somehow the two had connected and though Matthias was not sure the bond was healthy he allowed it to go on, seems as the colt always seemed to run well.

Seeing the sabino, with Alexia already mounted, stride confidently onto the track Matthias shifted in his seat, blue eyes taking in the sight. Confident Alexia rode the energetic three-year old as if he were a school horse. Quiet, confident, and without all of the fuss that some of the horses made on the track. But then he had been brought up for this, Alexia had spent many hours preparing him to take the track by storm and she seemed to be even more determined than the colt that this would be their year. Her hand stroked the colt's powerful neck as they moved forwards towards the gates and the colt seemed to react by lifting his head, his stride becoming a little longer, his pace a little faster. Yes, this colt was ready for a fight and Alexia seemed ready to give him all the back-up he might need.

While gating occured, something which neever took long with the chestnut colt, Matthias gllanced through his notes. Not that he really needed to check on how the colt was doing as Alexia had drilled it into him enough, but he always liked to keep up to date. At three years old, the colt liked to run on the dirt with distances between six and nine furlongs. As a two year old, he had made his debut in July - placing third in his first race - and broke his maiden in December before going on to run in the Breeder's Cup; placing second in the Juvenile Sprint. This year, he had so far ran six races. Sadly, he had been out of the top three in two of those races but had managed to get a win, two seconds and a third placing. Overall, in thirteen races he had two wins, four seconds and four thirds giving him a relatively high consistency level of about 76.92 percent. Recently, the colt had been given a lot of attention and this seemed to be motivating him to do well.

OK, so the colt was full of potential, and as he stood in the gate it appeared a serene calm had come over him. The calm before the storm, perhaps, for Matthias had witnessed this colt going all out for Alexia on a number of occasions and when he did it was like he had changed into another creature, filled with a furious passion to succeed. Tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, Matthias settled into his seat. It would be interesting to see how the colt would perform in this workout as it was an indicator as to how he might perform in the race.

The gates opened and the colt started well. Not the flying start of a front runner but a more thought out, steady start. Matthias knew from experience that this was typical of the colt and as he settled into a nice pace he moved toward the rail, ready for the corner. For a horse that ran with the pack, as the colt did, the rail was an advantage. It meant you were running a smaller distance in the corner and that you would be able to make the most of the slight lead it would provide you with. Matthias knew that, Alexia knew that, and the beautiful colt also knew that. It was a trick that he had used to his advantage in races previously and hopefully one he would be able to make full use of come race day.

But they were not yet at the corner. With his powerul stride they would be soon, but certainly the colt was not there yet. His powerful limbs were moving at a good speed though and when they did turn into the corner he was skillful at taking the turn. From the stands, Aztareal's markings always made him stand out in a field, and as his mane flew out behind him it was not hard to imagine why Alexia wanted the colt photographed. He was a stunner, powerful and well settled. Each move so wonderfully executed, and with a heart as strong as any it might come into contest with.

Now, they were moving into the straight and the colt's speed was quickly building. Alexia was driving, but had not yet used the whip. It appeared, however, that there was no need for they were flying toward the post. Stride after stride Matthias could feel his pride in the pair building and when they passed the post he nodded to himself. Alexia was right to have such high hopes for the colt.

The two four year old mares which had been purchased in January did not have the most impressive race records. Nor did they have great consistency. But Matthias was determined to get them through the year, and hopefully get some wins under their belts. It was not, after all, as if they were completely hopeless. At grade four they both stood a chance of improving over the next year and with any luck one of them would be able to make it to grade three, or even grade two. If they could be pulled into shape, they would continue to race but if they continued to place poorly then at the end of the year they would be retired to brood where, with their good lines, they might produce the stars of the next generation.

For Amira, the change of home seemed to have produced something positive. In her four races this year she had managed to win one and place in another, showing a desire to succeed and while they were not perhaps the biggest wins in the world any win was welcome when it came down to helping her show her potential. Plus, that meant that while coming in as a grade five she had already progressed to the next level - a trend which Matthias was determined would continue and a goal toward which Jacob was encouraged to strive.

For Goldie, however, things had yet to improve to a reasonable degree. With two starts this year she had placed in fourth and eighth positions - neither of which would help her career to progress. It was, however, experience and eventually that experience was sure to build up enough to count for something. Plus, with some of the things she had achieved the previous year it was obvious that the potential was there she just needed the work to bring it out. That and some luck and she would soon be finding her hooves on the track.

Gating with the pair was easy. Front-running Amira wanted nothing more than to start while solid, trusting Goldie found nothing to fear in the starting gate. As the shutters were closed Goldie tossed her head a little but other than that there was no reaction from either mare, their dark eyes set on the track ahead. Amira seemed to be full of anticipation of the run, Goldie was more laid back in her approach. But they were both focussed and they were both ready for whatever the workout would bring.

As the gates opened Amira was out like a flash, determined to take first place and show herself for the star she was. The bay mare was certainly on form, and the way she moved showed the determination she felt. Pure, honest will to win and show herself as better than what the world had so far believed. Behind her, the palomino mare was much more laid back. Her pace was slower and she settled in a way behind her bay partner, pale mane flowing behind her as they made their way down the track.

All in all it was a quiet ride. Amira pushed hard, Goldie seemed very laid back and so while Jacob was trying to hold Amira back Tanya needed to spur the palomino mare onwards and yet ensure she did not spend too much energy too soon. It was not until the five furlongs mark they really started to catch up with the front runner, and when the crop cracked at four furlongs their speed shot up accordingly. But Amira was not going down easily, she was fighting in every stride and as they came to the post the mental battle between the pair was huge. Crossing the line, things were close. But Matthias, who was sat in the stands, declared that be believed both had ran well.