Post by Dante on Jun 26, 2012 20:32:18 GMT -5
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ROYAL ASSASSIN
workout with
ERIN TRUBELL
for the
BREEDER'S CUP JUVINILE SPRINT[/b]
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The Breeder's Cup. A semi-unknown name, both for horse and jockey, but not for long. Royal Assassin was out of Royal Red Richard, and it was showing in his results. But bloodlines didn't make the whole horse, after all. Work did. And that was what they were doing on the dirt track today. Five furlongs. It was going to be short, to the point, and decisive, kind of like the personality of the colt Erin was sitting upon, knees drawn up. At first look, she seemed rather cartoonish. Thin as a rail and six feet tall upon a two year old colt. But the pair, in all reality, worked. They had off days, but always bounced back. There was nothing they couldn't do if they tried, Erin felt. But that being said, every other horse and rider in this field was going to feel the same way. As a last minute entrant, Prince might have an element of surprise. But the rest? It came down to work.
"Okay, Erin. If I promise not to ask you out or do anything you deem worthy of trying to break my nose or ribs, will you work with me?" Connor stood before her, cigarette in his mouth.
"And if you give me one of those when we're done." Erin could see the pack sticking out, and gave into the nicotine craving. Connor nodded, then spoke again.
"The field is mid-sized, but he competition is strong. We need to come out front fast, and stay fast. The race is so short there's not a curve, it's just a straight run to the finish, you you can't do your corner trick. But I have another idea, one I took out of you."
"That's what she said." Erin said idly, but she was listening.
"Yeah, okay, sure." Connor could picture a few dirty scenarios, some involving Erin, but ignored them for the moment. "Run him like nothing else. Be aggressive. If someone tries to box you, go into them. Freak them out. If someone comes near you, make like you're going to run them over. Raise your stick early on, and morso if they come close. Some of the horses have blinders. Some do not." Connor watched a thrilled smile cross Erin's face. "Yeah, you got that right, it might spook 'em. You can't hit the other horses, of course, but they don't have to know that. You act like you're not out to win, act like you're out to kill whatever gets near you. If you dominate the front enough, you'll just have time in the last furlong to push fully ahead. In the meantime, pretend Prince here is a bulldozer."
"I like that. I like that a lot." Erin grinned, and pulled down her goggles, wheeling Prince for the gate. It was a strange strategy, to attempt to mow down - rather literally - anything that got near, but it would prevent boxing, and furthermore, in sprints, there were a lot of frontrunners. In this race - in addition to the frontrunning Royal Assassin -Wannabe Hero was the only other one. However, the race was short, and both After Dusk and Sweetness Unlimited were preceders. If they came to close to Prince's shoulder or rear, she'd move into them and see how they liked preceeding then! Lynara's Kingdom was versatile, and a bit of a wild card, but in such a short race, Erin had a feeling she'd run up front with the others. And if she bumped one horse out of the way, well, that one would have to go somewhere - possibly into another horse. It was going to be a short and violent game. The redhead had to say she was tantalized by the idea.
The boy two year old did not protest too much when loaded into the gate, and Erin shifted a little in her stirrups. She knew she could make this aggressive thing work. Prince was not a spooker or a shier, so she could pilot the colt, who generally had a one-track mind on running, where she needed him and sometimes she wondered if he'd even notice or care. She cracked her neck, and moment later, they were off to the races. Dirt flew up in the faces of Prince and his jockey as they game out of the gate, and immediately went into the inside. Once there, Erin had him weave a little, preparing him for the footwork needed to attempt to ram down anyone that came their way. Prince seemed a little confused, but he didn't protest.
The weaving practice had a second advantage as they prepped for the Breeder's Cup. It allowed Erin to feel out how he was running. His motions were smooth and well balanced, even as she made him go side to side. He did well for speeding and moving a the same time, but only the race would prove just how well. The race would be decided in the race, not the workout - especially with the plan they were taking. It was only in the race that they would have their answers.
Erin added the stick completely three furlongs in, and Prince further obliged. She could almost see his nostrils flaring, she could almost feel his breath as he pushed for that wire, for that win! The horse had determination, that was for sure. But would determination be enough? Would any of this be enough? Erin sure hoped so.
It seemed as though in the blink of an eye they crossed the finish line of five furlongs, and looped back to Connor, who was writing on his notepad. "We have a solid time on him." Connor said with a nod. "We'll see. Remember. You're a big jockey on a very determined horse. You try and ram people, and they'll think you're going to go into them, and that they will die. And if they don't move? Keeping going. Sooner or later they'll have to move, or they'll go down. Also, remember your red lipstick." He passed gave her a cigarette as she dismounted, as well as the lighter. Once it was lit and she took a drag, Erin spoke.
"I always wear my red lipstick, that's luck. Why are you telling me to remember?" She dared ask.
"Because you look se-" He shut up when he realized Erin still had the lighter, and was looking mighty threatening with it. "Breeder's Cup. Right. Got it. Okay."-----------------------
WORKOUT STATS
words| 1,076
workout surface| Dirt
distance| 5 furlongs
horse| Royal Assassin
jockey| Erin Trubell
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