Post by alicekcrose on May 5, 2012 1:43:14 GMT -5
[/blockquote][/blockquote]The morning of the first major race, and the colt was raring to go. He pricked his ears and bounced energetically on the turf surface. Pawing at the ground, I giggled. You are a goofy sod at times. I said. I squeezed him forward into a trot, and let him get the feel of the good going surface. His muscles rippled under his neck, and he flinched as a fly flew round the base of his mane. Snorting, I squeezed him into a gentle canter, and began to breeze him.
I let the colt go forward; his stride was big and powerful. He was relatively big for his age, and had the muscle and frame of his father, Grand Silence. The colt flexed his body, and stretched out as a steady gallop, nothing fast, nothing fancy. We came to the five furlong pole, and I let him go. He began to stretch out more and more, and he pricked his ears. I urged him along and as we entered the turn, he changed his leads.
In the bend, the colt stuck long and hard to the rail until we entered the home stretch and he moved to the center, and came flying down. I urged him along, pushing him. He stretched and extended his stride, long, far, and very energetically. His ears were still pricked, as always. I never thought such a big goofy colt could be one heck of a racehorse. He flew past the post and I punched the air. I knew we’d have a shot against Royal Assasin… then again, Secretariat came fourth in his first race…
I patted his neck and smiled. Good boy, Danny. The bay colt nickered back to me, as in reply, to say thank you. I smiled again, flicking my blonde fringe out of my face, watching as the other contenders in the race worked. We’ve got a chance boy. Let’s go kick some butt.