Post by creativecause on Oct 9, 2015 6:39:25 GMT -5
The Theory Of Evolution
Here's the thing that makes life so interesting: The Theory of Evolution claims that "only the strong shall survive." Maybe so, maybe so. But the Theory of Competition says "just because they're the strong doesn't mean they can't get their asses kicked." That's right. See, what every long-shot, come-from-behind underdog will tell you is this: The other guy may in fact be the favorite; the odds may be stacked against you. Fair enough ... But what the odds don't know is this isn't a math test. This is a completely different kind of test. One where passion has a funny way of trumping logic. So before you step up to the starting line, before the whistle blows and the clock starts ticking, just remember: out here, the results don't always add up. No matter what the stats may say and the experts may think and the commentators may have predicted, when the race is on, all bets are off. Don't be surprised if someone decides to flip the script and take a pass on yelling "uncle". And then suddenly, as the old saying goes, "We got ourselves a game."
The theory of evolution says that only the strong survive, but walking out onto the track at six am sharp in the morning was living, breathing proof that it didn’t apply to these two horses. Two horses that had been so beaten down this season that it was a wonder that they found a way to keep going. Losing streaks a mile long and run after run with no glory. Being dubbed by the public as ‘not classy enough’ or ‘out of their league’ however, these two knew better, never stopping, or giving up even if the competition was stiff. They stuck it out and ran their race every time and somehow through all the nail biters, and frustrations and headaches, the Grayson Meadows’ team did too. They rallied behind this mare and colt, they campaigned them the same way they would have if they had been winning every race put in front of them. Because that was how much they believed these two were meant for something greater, better.
Two former Breeders’ Cup race winners that were hungry, pissed off, and both more than capable of running a field into the ground. They came into last years races as the dark horses, and this year it would be no different.
Long gone were the spidery legs of Take Flight, he was a totally different looking horse this year. He had muscles in his eyebrows, a long back and huge stride, lungs of steel and enough heart and grit for ten horses. He lunged forward and struck the ground with a powerful swipe of his left front hoof digging a wonderful hoof sized divot in the turf of Green Horse Fields turf track. This was in fact the scene of some of their greatest failures with this colt, his failure to stop pandora in all three legs of the Turf Triple Crown hurt the stables morality more than they had let on. Given Crook certainly helped cushion their fall but after how well he had been performing prior to the series they expected him to at least take a single leg of the crown, which he failed to do. Everything about him screamed champion, yet he had failed to even muster up a win against older horses. Going into the Breeders’ Cup Take Flight was looking over hyped, beaten down, and quite frankly looked like he stood little chance against the likes of the monster that was 8 time HOTY race winner Wish Upon A Star. This wasn’t a math test, this horse wasn’t a statistic, he was a living breathing unpredictable animal that was done yelling uncle. This was his time, it was his turn and he was ready to blow the doors off of his competition over his favorite distance of 12 furlongs.
Then there was Dare To Impress, Turf Triple Crown near misser, that looked to be on the improving side. She was in a place that made her a huge threat to the likes of Impress The Moonlight. There was one thing for sure about this mare, from each step she graced the track with, from the ways her eyes burned holes through those who looked too closely. She was ready and she was strong. Unlike Fly, this was Imp’s final race. Her final shot to prove that she wasn’t just that horse that ‘couldn’t win the turf triple crown’ that horse that ‘only pulled through once a year’. This was her final shot to prove she was more than what the public saw her as. There was no retakes, there was no excuse, she was there to run her race, and she was there to prove all of the doubters wrong. She didn’t have a Turf Triple Tiara victory on her side, or a huge amount of Horse Of The Year race wins, but she had the pedigree, the class, a turf triple crown near miss, and a Breeders’ Cup race on her side. This was Imp’s race for the taking, and there were no reasons why she couldn’t win.
Alex gave a nod to Andrew and the two took one last glance at the grandstand where the whole team stood, nothing brought them together quite like the Breeders’ Cup. They drew the eyes of some of the public that had decided to come out early that morning, but overall, it wasn’t much of a showing. Which had been expected. They had their crew behind them, and that was what mattered. They all believed in these two horses, they busted their asses for these horses everyday, stayed up late through every fever, and bruised hoof, spent hours of their day pondering what to do with them, cried tears of joy for them, walked off the track defeated with them, and stood behind them every step of the way.
“This is it my brother, lets show all of those doubters why they should be looking our way come race day.” Alex said to Andrew who responded with a sly smirk and they began to canter their mounts, the green and white pole approaching all too soon.
“Suppose Fly’s going to remember what Imp’s ass looks like?” Alex taunted.
“You’ve got it wrong. What you should be asking is Imp going to remember what Fly’s ass looks like even as she’s enjoying retirement?” Andrew spat back.
Alex bit his tongue at the remark and as soon as they approached the start he took off at a strong in-hand gallop with his prized mare. Andrew and Fly were not far behind, they were instantly glued to Imp’s shoulder, but pressing Imp onward with Fly’s huge strides. This wasn’t a usual workout between these two, and no one seemed to know that better then the two equine athletes giving it their all. Wasps of steam came flying from their nostrils as they got up to full cruising speed. If anyone could see through the dense fog in the grandstand as the two rounded into the final turn, they would have seen Fly reach forward and try and take a chunk out of Imp’s shoulder, heaven knows why.
A silence fell over the track that morning as the two flew into the stretch, the only sound you could hear was the determination of their hooves hitting the ground in perfect sync. The whites of their eyes blazing, this was all out war occurring on the track at six o’ five in the morning. Each stride longer than their last, Fly put a nose in front, then Imp battled back only for Fly to push back harder. If this had been a real race they would have been called as giving it their all, digging in, showing the hearts of the champions that they both truly were. This was it, the final stretch and they weren’t holding back.
With each stride, with every breath, the world slowed, it stopped to listen to the sound of greatness erupting from each hoof beat. It stopped to listen the cheers from the team as the two of them burst from the fog in an all out drive to the finish. Lunging further, and further to try and get the edge over the other. Alex and Andrew desperately trying not to ask too much of their mounts before race day.
The bay son of Merry Bay King put in one final effort which landed him with a nose on the wire first. Imp wasn’t too keen on that and the two continued to battle it out even into their run downs.
