Post by alicekcrose on Jun 25, 2012 3:43:55 GMT -5
Ivana and Danny work for the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile Turf.
The big elegant colt stepped on to the soft turf. He held his head high, kept his ears perked and released a snort. I allowed him to look around for a second to get used to it... which was stupid as he was a racehorse. He was definitely the biggest horse I've ridden in a long time. The colt was muscular, in shape, and with a couple of great works, he'd be well on the way to success in this race – the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile Turf. The colt shifted his weight and I slowly eased him forward. He'd never had me on board, it felt so different... watching the birds, the other horses working, and many more things that look so different whilst on board this fine, handsome colt. We were going to be racing in the Breeders Cup Turf. We weren’t going to do great, I know we weren’t. The current official entries in this race were SOPS colt, Canjun Moon, and their grade four turf colt, Infinite Warcry. He was the one to watch, the big, looming black colt, who would be a real threat for the turf triple crown next year. I wasn’t sure if Star Thoroughbreds were going to enter, but they usually do enter at the last minute, which was worrying me ever so slightly.
Just breeze today I think... get him used to me. We'll do a proper workout next time. I smiled and squeezed him into an elegant trot. He had a much longer stride. He lowered his head and tucked it in, flicking his toes out as he took the advantage to show off. I giggled slightly and stood up in my stirrups as he broke into a steady canter. I allowed him to get the feel of me. He ignored everything, but me. His canter was smooth and he lifted his knees high. He definately had a good stride. I squeezed him forward a little more until the canter was now a steady gallop. He carried his head the same, beautiful and elegant. I felt him change his leads instantly as we entered the corner. Well what a beautiful colt this is. I kept him in this steady gallop around the turn. His hooves hit the turf, flinging it back in chunks. The turf was soft and fast. Perfect. I smiled.
As we entered the home stretch, I brought him back to a steady trot, then walk. We continued to walk until we got to the starting pole at the mile and an eighth post, which was slightly shorter than the race itself. I thought to myself Should I give it a go? Should I race against a workhorse? After a slight argument with myself in my head, I chose to do it. I trotted over to the posts. "Excuse me, please may I work a mile and an eighth with a work horse please?" I asked politely. They nodded. "Certainly." They took hold of the rein and began to walk Danny in. His ears perked up and he slowed. I gave him a little squeeze and he went back in. Good boy, Danny. A grey five year old gelding came up beside us in the gates. I looked to my right, and there he was. He was a bit smaller than Danny, but boy he had muscle.
I took my crop out my belt. And semi leaned forward, ready for the break. Briiiinggg. The bell. The gates burst open and Danny leapt out, hogging the rail and dropped back to a length infront of the grey. I stood up and let the colt go. He kicked turf up behind him and he snorted. It was like he knew he was racing now. The grey came up beside us, tossing his head, and pulling the rider. He seemed content on the lead, so I pulled Danny back a tad, and the grey over took, leaving us a length behind. On board, we were about to go round the clubhouse turn. I hogged the rail and kept him at a steady gallop, nothing to intense just yet. With each stride, Danny would snort. Racing was in his family, and he loved the turf, aswell as dirt. As we entered the back stretch, the grey stretched out even more. They'd got a three length advantage. Surely it couldn't keep this up. I niggled Danny a little more, and received an instant response. He picked up the pace almost instantly and we were gaining on our grey.
Coming round the home turn, I showed Danny the whip, moved him to the outside of the grey and niggled him along. I was handriding him, not using the crop, nothing, yet the grey was in full speed, being urged as much as the jockey could. Too much for us. I began to fully urge, and Danny pricked his ears and off he went, powering over the turf and leaving the grey behind. We came into the final furlong, and I looked behind to see the grey, tired, somewhat ten lengths behind. I relaxed and stood high in my stirrups, patting Danny's neck. We crossed the line and I grinned. "You got it boy. Let's go kick some butt." I smiled and patted the muscular bay's neck.