Post by S u N f r O s t ~ on Jun 27, 2012 11:45:30 GMT -5
FORBIDDEN TO FLY AND HENNA TURATH
BREEDERS CUP JUVENILE WORKOUT
Forbidden To Fly was a gorgeous colt from lines of complete success. By the Hall Of Fame sprinter Flying Colours and out of the many proven broodmare Forbidden Wings, he was the half brother of Silent Wings, Pegasus Wings and Flashy Wings, all of which had reached grade one. So essentially, he was expected to do the same, though he was incredibly different from his half siblings. The essence of Fly was sound. He never shut up. He was always whinnying, snorting, neighing, and sometimes not even at another horse. He just loved sound and he loved to express himself. He was also a bit scatter brained. It took a lot of patience to work with Fly, a patience that neither Amber nor Krystal had possessed. Henna had spent hours working with Fly, as he had a tendency to forget things and not pay attention. It had taken work, but here they were. They were contenders in the Breeders Cup Juvenile.
The field was six horses, and all of them could pose a challenge. Apollo Bear from Akita Rose was the surprise challenger who had impressed everybody with no placings out of the top three and his win in the November Maiden Dirt. He was at a disadvantage in terms of experience, and he was also a front runner, though Henna definitely hadn't counted him out. Instant Success was the real challenger in gate two, with six wins. Fly was right up there though, and Fly had actually won four Horse of the Year selection races. He had also defeated these horses in the Just A Trot Futurity. Nevertheless, that Kacey Hill colt would be tough to beat, and was closing from behind. Lucky Silver was another closer, and a surprise entry, though his consistency wasn't bad. Then there was Phantie, a bit of a wild card, whom Henna felt would be closing from behind in this race. But she might pick the front, as she was known to do. Then there was Euphoria's Warrior, the other closer, and a good colt, too.
Hmmm. Lots of closers. In this case, Krystal was definitely going to ride Phantie in a front running position if she could. There was only Apollo Bear up there to run with her. The rest of the field would be spread out far behind - except for Fly. Henna grinned. Fly was the only mid packer in the field. This meant he would be able to handle the amount of horses entered with ease and would actually use it to his advantage. Fly wasn't a serious racehorse. He liked to goof around for the first couple furlongs of the race, running with the horses in the back, before just sprinting in the home stretch. The race was nine furlongs. Fly would goof for maybe half a mile before really focusing. Then, they would thread their way out of the closer pack and get closer to the pace. At three furlongs they would make their move to the front, just a step ahead of the many closers in the race. They would weave their way around Phantie and Apollo, who were hopefully tiring, and burst into the lead. The closers would become tangled up around the tiring front runners. They would be trapped. Perhaps one or two would break through to challenge them, but by then they would be out of time, and Fly would have won the race.
Henna grinned, and then laughed as Fly bugled loudly to some pretty filly on the inside of the dirt track. Here she was, seriously imagining Fly winning the title of Juvenile champion, and Fly was being completely not serious. He was still just expressing himself and his desire for the females, something which had cropped up only recently, as well as his fondness for the game of racing. As of right now they were beginning to canter, and Henna felt the eagerness of the colt's stride. He snorted excitedly as Henna let him canter just a little bit faster. Henna imagined that from the front Fly would look like an eager kid in a candy store. Racing was like candy to Fly; he loved the sweetness of it, even if he was defeated. He always gave the race, his favorite game, his all. Even if he wasn't the most serious minded racehorse out there, he was youthful and loved to run, and that was what counted on the racetrack, in Henna's opinion anyway. Not to mention she was smitten with the colt, who had captured her heart because of his youthful nature and expressive personality.
They would gallop for however long it felt like they should. She didn't want to restrict her colt, but she didn't want to over work him, either. She needed him focused come race day. Thus, she performed a couple circles to get his attention fixated on her, and then they galloped. She clucked to Fly and was greeted with a welcome burst of speed. The colt was stretching out, snorting once of course before accelerating, and his eyes were alight with joy. He loved to run. It was another way of expressing himself. He would have danced sideways at the gallop had he not learned to stop doing that. He just wanted to express himself as much as possible as the crazy horse he was. Henna loved it. She wanted to make this colt great. She wanted those that tried to defeat him to be defeated in their turn. She wanted Fly to show the world that you didn't have to be a serious horse to become a champion - you only needed to enjoy the race.
The furlongs were scrolling by at a faster rate now. Fly was slowly picking the pace up, taking his time, not in a rush at all. It was a very closer-like characteristic, but Fly lacked the analytic side necessary for closing. He was almost too non-serious to be a racehorse, in all truth, but he had still managed to be successful. He was the winner of five of his fourteen races, after all. Henna grinned as Fly's acceleration peaked and they essentially began to fly down the dirt track. They were in the backstretch, and the straightness of the stretch begged speed, which Fly was only too happy to give. They were going now at a brilliant pace, and Henna didn't want the speed to stop but knew that it was necessary. She began to ease the gray colt up, and though the two year old obeyed it was with an air of disappointment.
He wished to run more, and he would - in the Juvenile, when they snatched victory.
