Post by alicekcrose on Jul 8, 2012 4:03:13 GMT -5
We’d finally done it – we’d become the second three year old to reach Grade 3 – but the first this year. We were now the second three-year-old with seven wins… six more wins and we would’ve achieved the title of Grade One… I’ve always wanted a Grade One runner – the only two Grade One runners I own are studs – Impassioned Wind and Cryin’ Out Loud… and hopefully in a couple of years, Isa would be a Grade One too. I couldn’t wait… there was a possibility it would be at the end of this year too… I was just so excited that I couldn’t keep my excitement in. I stood in the stall with Isa, grooming him, whilst biting my lip, holding in an ‘excitement’ burst. I didn’t want to spook him. I’d let my daydream run away, and for that, I was too excited. Far too excited to hold it all in. I’d been looking at the entrants for the race since yesterday, and looked at how they would race… as for Isa… Isa is a closer and a good one at that. Though he dislikes the gate his starts tend to be slow which is helpful for him when it comes to finding his position at the back of the group. Isa will hold this position for the majority of the race and will not run against the rail, preferring to be in a position where he will not be blocked once he starts his move. Isa has a will of steel and will start to speed up with about four furlongs left of a race, making his real move with about three furlongs left. He is a powerful colt, with a lot of speed in him and a competitive spirit. He will push hard and use his great heart to move from last to first in the straight. Highly strung and stubborn at times, it is not recommended that you tell Isa what to do because he will not take it well.
In Gate One, there was Lucky Silver. We’d beaten him in every race that we’d gone against him in, including the Juvenile, where he placed and he got a fifth. As for Lucky, Lucky have already shown what style he likes to do in a race, and that's to hang back behind the other horses, not right at the back though, approximately be the fourth horse behind. He likes to hang back planning his move really carefully. All ready his heart is into running. Around the final three furlongs, he would make his move on the outside to make sure he don't get coward or bumped along the way. Once by the leader, he would challenge until the race is over altogether. Sometimes Lucky can have a stubborn streak and act like he isn't listen as he hates working alone, now when he is out working for a race, we arranged a breezing partner to keep him company. In Gate Two, there was Prince Arthur, who we’d also beaten before. Arthur likes to race in mid pack - This colt is really fast and even load himself into the gate. Two seconds before the gates open, he paws the ground and snorts a little. When the gates open, this colt would spring forward, straight into the middle of the pack. Arthur would stay in this position, without any fear of being boxed in, or having anything thrown in his face. Along the sixth furlong he would start to creep into third or fourth position [depending on number of horses], still keeping in the middle of the pack, until the final stretch he would weave slightly along the outside to challenge the leader, increasing his stride, keeping the bravery and courage. Once by the leader's shoulders, he would stay there refusing to give up, until the lead is his. Arthur is docile young colt and loves to pose to the coward while he walks to the track. On the track his docile nature is still there, he loads in the gates without a problem, waiting patient for them break open so he can run, showing off to the coward. In his stall he can be cheeky, and attention sneaking, kicking the door and even open his door. While out in the pasture he loves to play, buck and rear, showing off to any fillies which are nearer by, which is kind of cute. Where ever this colt is he never lose his playfulness and docile attitude.
In Gate Three, there was Lady Ophelia, a Prison Hill Stables entrant. We’d beaten her a few times – but only a few whilst Isa was still a Grade Five. We beat her in the Summer Cup, Seaspray Cup, and Autumn Cup – before I moved on to the Winter Cup Grade 4. Ophelia does not take no for an answer. She is a dominant mare and then some, to the point where she is kept in a pen to herself, and then she'll vault the fence and go for a run wherever she pleases. She's as insane as her namesake, that is certain; she'll go out of her way to beat up anything smaller than her, people included - in other words, keep anything under 5'6" away. On the track, it's quite as though she rather her heart burst or her leg break than be slower than any other horse. She is a front runner too, meaning that she will definitely take the lead in this race. In Gate Four, there was Akita Rose Stables entrant, Knight Rousseau, our main rival right now in these races – though he is a five year old, it doesn’t stop him from doing what he loves to do the most. Rousseau likes to sit in about the third or fourth position and press the leaders before making his move on the homestretch. He runs on the dirt track and refuses to even step a hoof on the dirt. He runs with passion and fury in every race, knocking over as much horses as he can to be able to win. If ever he is beat he holds a grudge on the horse and will do anything in his power to beat them the next time. This colt has a passion for racing but an even bigger passion for winning. Rousseau is like his father in his personality in almost every way. He is moody, difficult to manage and has a furious temper. Things have to go either his way or no way. He is loud and his eyes always seem to be blazing with hatred. But Rousseau on the other hand never shows his soft side, if he even has one. The only thing that the farm has ever seen Rousseau soft with is his pasture mates, Dark Sunrise and Pride Stalker. Other than that this boy is a complete terror.
So, the best option would to break slowly, and stay at the back behind Lucky Silver until the four furlong mark – we would pick up the pace, come wide, and fly down the centre of the track in the stretch, and take the lead away from Lady Ophelia. As I finished tacking up Isa, I kept wondering about the Triple Crown Preps. Would we go to many? I was yet to find out. We were set for the Turf Triple Crown this year, as we’d already aced our first turf race in the Up and Coming Cup over ten furlongs on the turf. Today, we were going to the January Dirt Stakes, over eleven furlongs on dirt. It was very handy that Isa could run at these distances and over the surfaces like this. I lead him out on to the track, and Ivana gave me a leg up. It was two days after Jacey’s incident, and she was home from hospital and everything was okay. Walking him forward, he pinned his ears and snorted. Oi, pack it in you. I said. He continued to walk and I asked him for a trot. He broke into a trot, finally pricking his ears and trotting across the dirt energetically. He snorted and lifted his knees. Okay Isa… four furlong sprint today, right? I said. Isa bobbed his head up and down and I laughed. I continued to trot then I asked him for canter. He loped along the backstretch and as he came to five and a half furlongs, I crouched down and pushed him forward. The responsive colt leapt forward, and began to power over the dirt. At the four furlong pole, I pushed him, my arms stretching out as far as they’d go. The colt extended his stride and powered energetically into the turn, each leg hitting the floor after each other. He continued to gallop rapidly and I pushed him more and more. The colt stuck his neck out, his long extended stride not matching his height as he was pretty small, only fifteen hands and two inches now. He powered into the home stretch, changing his leads and quickening the pace with the momentum saved. My crop fell onto his rump and he sprinted across the wire. I relaxed and went back to Ivana. How did I do? She smirked. Fourty two seconds flat. She said. I smiled and patted Isa. Good boy, let’s go try to win this race! I said, patting him again. I dismounted and lead him off the track to wash him down.
Words: 1,575
Surface: Dirt
Distance: Four furlongs
Listening to: My phone buzzing as Alexia texts me.
