Post by Snowflake on Apr 6, 2012 7:50:18 GMT -5
FURIOUS PASSION WORKS FOR TRUE ENOUGH MEMORIAL STAKES
Now four years old, Furious Passion had accomplished a lot. He was a Triple Crown Champion, for one. And a Dubai World Cup winner. Since narrowly losing the Breeder's Cup Classic, he'd had a relaxing few months, with only four starts this season. Now, things were heating up, and with his older half sister Vindictive Fury tearing up the track, he had better live up to his fame and deliver some more amazing wins. Beginning with the True Enough Memorial Stakes.
Marissa's face was split wide with a grin. She was still high off her Kentucky Derby win on Sunset Crusade. She could remember this very same feeling after winning on Passion last year, then going on to win all three races had been indescribable. She rose quickly to the young stallion's trot, steering him clear of a misbehaving two year old. Passion had always been the 'tamest' of Rising Fury's offspring, but he was still explosive at any time.
The True Enough Memorial Stakes was his next race. As the only colt in a field full of fillies, it was looking like an easy enough race. Not that the fillies weren't a talented bunch, but hey, colts were stronger and faster, right? So he could win it. The four year old colt broke into canter on her cue, tossing his head with pleasure. The early morning breeze was nice and cool; summer was starting to cool off into autumn.
After a lap of warming up, Marissa gathered a handful of mane in preparation for Furious Passion's burst of speed when she cued him to gallop. The colt cantered on, anticipation apparent in each stride. He quivered slightly as a trio of horses raced by on the inside rail. Just a little bit longer, babe. Marissa assured him, holding the reins firmly when he tried to get his head and run. Glancing back, she saw that no one was behind them for a few hundred metres, and started to steer Passion closer to the inside rail of the track. She eyed the four furlong pole, which they were approaching quickly. 50 metres. 45 metres. 40 metres. 30. 20. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.. Furious Passion burst forward.
Marissa held the handful of mane until his stride balanced, then released it. She crouched low over his neck and withers, and urged him on. Not that he needed urging, the colt was dead set on catching the three horses who had passed him before. Before she knew it, it was time to bring Passion back down through his paces. Thankfully, the three had slowed up and were trotting together just ahead. Passion roared past them, then, satisfied, dropped back to a slow gallop, fast canter, slow canter, then brisk trot. Marissa aimed him for the gap, smiling to herself. He was ready to win.
