We're Up And Coming

Alice and Isa work for the Up And Coming Cup

It had recently been discovered that our future foundation stud, Instant Success, could now run a mile… and guess what? A mile over the turf too… that’s something special. You rarely get a horse that can extend over the distances of five furlongs. Now, him and his little lovebird, Sonja, could both run together on turf aswell as dirt. Isa was going to race over ten furlongs in his first turf race coming up at The Wire track. Smack bang in the middle of his distance range. The entrants so far were Calle Ocho, Thunderstrike, and the Innocent Skier. We had never faced them before – and now it was time for him to kick some butt over the turf. The Up And Coming Cup – Isa's first time on the turf. It would be the final show down. The race would run this Friday… it was all so exciting for the staff at KHS, as well as something new for Isa. New track, new season, new surface, new distance.

This race would be Isa’s first race as a three year old. The second week of January. Spring was beginning to take it’s toll over here, and breeding season had just begun. Excitement was in the air as more foals were lined up to be born in this current year. The turf was springy, and easy to run over on this particular day. Were we to make it to Grade 3 in our first start as a three year old? Only time would tell. Easy, sweety. Alice said, stroking the chestnut colts neck as he stepped energetically out onto the surface. The track was silent, and the air was chilled – though humidity began to rise as the sun hit the track with it’s powerful yet damaging UV rays.

Alice turned the colt in circles as he slowly calmed down. She halted him and let him examine the sights and sounds of the new track. She walked him forward to the barrier separating both the dirt and turf track, and we switched onto the turf. Alice pushed him forward into an energetic trot and he responded instantly, perking his ears and snorting. He lifted his knees high, his light aluminium shoes rising and falling, hitting the turf and not flicking it behind him, unlike the dirt. Isa liked it. He continued to move swiftly over the surface at a trot, then he energetically broke into a canter, bobbing his head with each energetic stride.

His collected stride was proceeded with a little snort. He tucked his head into his chest, and arched it beautifully. We approached the large metallic grey starting gates and Alice slowed him back down his paces. Gating Isa was a jockey’s worst nightmare. Alice halted him near the starting gate and they were approached by a tall man in his mid-thirties, who lead them towards it. Isa pricked his ears slightly, and Alice gave him a little squeeze. He walked forward energetically, all four hooves hitting the ground in canon, but as we approached, he pinned his ears and lashed out at the handler. Isa, will you pack it in?! She sighed. Isa walked in after some encouragement.

When they were in the gate, Isa shifted his weight. He looked ahead at the back stretch and Alice pulled her goggles down over my eyes. She gave the starter the thumbs up, and they were ready to roll. Isa snorted and pawed at the turf. The bell rang and Isa leapt out the gate in slow motion, as he always does. Alice pulled herself up and relaxed, resting her hands near his withers. Alice pushed her hands up his neck slightly and urged him forward to pick up the speed. He responded well and perked his ears, his muscular legs and body working together to power him along the turf.

Alice kept him at the quick pace along the turf and she asked him to switch leads as they entered the turn. Isa nickered lightly and did just as Alice asked. She continued to niggle him forward slightly as they rounded the turn kept him into the rail so he wouldn’t drift out. She showed him the whip and began to drive him as we came to the top of the lane. The colt picked up his speed considerably and changed his lead again, the lead he had used to gain momentum from the turn so he would have his final burst of speed.

Alice gave him a tap on his rump and he shot forward. She gripped onto the mane so she didn’t fly backwards and she made myself as small as she could. Isa stretched out as much as he could, speeding up and pinning his ears. The air flew over his ears and the lessened air resistance caused him to pick up his speed. Alice drove him forward, her arms stretching out as far as they’d go as she urged him, and her crop fell onto his rump. As they flew under the wire, Alice released all the tension and felt a breath of release throughout my body. They were ready for this race. Isa collected his stride and came back down the paces, the warm air from their breaths mixed with the cool spring air to form a fine mist. Alice patted him. Good boy. He was definitely ready for this. It was time to face The Innocent Skier, Calle Ocho, and Thunderstrike.