Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2012 16:04:18 GMT -5
The black colt had an amazing year as a two year old, ending the season as the Best Grade Five in the Horse Of The Year awards. He had then made his entrance onto the track as a three year old in true style with a win in his first race of the season which pushed him into grade four. Now, he was preparing to race again and the team were excited to see where the black sprinter could make it to this year. There hope, of course, was that he would rise to great heights but no one was really putting money on that just yet. There was a lot of competition on the sprinting track, and he was just one colt.
The race he had been pencilled in for was the Lightning Bolt Colt Stakes, which would but him against other colts of grades four and five over six furlongs on the dirt - his preferred surface although he had managed to place on turf previously. So far, his only competition in the race was the impressive Royal Assassin of Prison Hill Stables. Hero had beat him in the Breeder's Cup, but only just, and it was clear that they would have a fight on for the win in this race. But Tanya, who jockeyed the colt, did not seem phased by that. In fact, she seemed excited about their prospects in the upcoming race.
Her excitement was probably helped by the fact that Royal Assassin had been worked the week previously, and so would feel at least something from the recent race whereas Hero had been rested for over a month and would be fresh for the race. But what was more likely to be related to her excitement was that she felt that, on the dirt at least, they could give the Royal Red Richard son a run for their money and if they could do that they would prove themselves against Hall Of Fame offspring having come from nothing themselves.
The colt was energetic as ever. He danced beneath the jockey, energy seeming to radiate from him. He tossed his head, pulled against the grip of the handler and generally seemed determined to move. As they came onto the dirt his ears pressed forwards and moved well toward the gates, entering the contraption with no fuss and standing well once the shutters were closed. Tanya rose in her stirrups and looked over the gates in anticipation and both horse and rider were ready to move when the buzzer sounded, the gates opening.
They moved quickly up the short stretch of dirt ahead of them. It was only three furlongs, half the distance of the race, and had been chosen to stretch the colts legs, allow him to run and practice his speed and ensure the colt was not too hot for race day which could lead to issues with performance. In other words, they were doing everything in their power to improve their chances in the race.
The colt moved well. His hooves churned the dirt as he powered onwards, his head held high as they moved confidently over the track. Tanya had fallen in time with the colt's rhythm, and was allowing him to move at his own rate for now. She lifted her gaze, bit her lip, and imagined the other horse and jockey on the track. Royal Assassin, like Hero, was a front runner. But where Tanya was more laid back, Erin was known for being aggressive both with her horses and with everyone else for that matter. She was tall for a jockey, but it gave her advantages, and Tanya knew the pair had talent. This was likely to be a fast paced race, and a very exciting one at that.
The moved into the final furlong, and Tanya cracked the crop. The colt threw himself into the final furlong, but was not able to provide much more in the way of speed. Still he fought, and so did Tanya as she drove him toward the line. She would not give in. This race might not have a clear cut winner, but she believed that it should be them.
The race he had been pencilled in for was the Lightning Bolt Colt Stakes, which would but him against other colts of grades four and five over six furlongs on the dirt - his preferred surface although he had managed to place on turf previously. So far, his only competition in the race was the impressive Royal Assassin of Prison Hill Stables. Hero had beat him in the Breeder's Cup, but only just, and it was clear that they would have a fight on for the win in this race. But Tanya, who jockeyed the colt, did not seem phased by that. In fact, she seemed excited about their prospects in the upcoming race.
Her excitement was probably helped by the fact that Royal Assassin had been worked the week previously, and so would feel at least something from the recent race whereas Hero had been rested for over a month and would be fresh for the race. But what was more likely to be related to her excitement was that she felt that, on the dirt at least, they could give the Royal Red Richard son a run for their money and if they could do that they would prove themselves against Hall Of Fame offspring having come from nothing themselves.
The colt was energetic as ever. He danced beneath the jockey, energy seeming to radiate from him. He tossed his head, pulled against the grip of the handler and generally seemed determined to move. As they came onto the dirt his ears pressed forwards and moved well toward the gates, entering the contraption with no fuss and standing well once the shutters were closed. Tanya rose in her stirrups and looked over the gates in anticipation and both horse and rider were ready to move when the buzzer sounded, the gates opening.
They moved quickly up the short stretch of dirt ahead of them. It was only three furlongs, half the distance of the race, and had been chosen to stretch the colts legs, allow him to run and practice his speed and ensure the colt was not too hot for race day which could lead to issues with performance. In other words, they were doing everything in their power to improve their chances in the race.
The colt moved well. His hooves churned the dirt as he powered onwards, his head held high as they moved confidently over the track. Tanya had fallen in time with the colt's rhythm, and was allowing him to move at his own rate for now. She lifted her gaze, bit her lip, and imagined the other horse and jockey on the track. Royal Assassin, like Hero, was a front runner. But where Tanya was more laid back, Erin was known for being aggressive both with her horses and with everyone else for that matter. She was tall for a jockey, but it gave her advantages, and Tanya knew the pair had talent. This was likely to be a fast paced race, and a very exciting one at that.
The moved into the final furlong, and Tanya cracked the crop. The colt threw himself into the final furlong, but was not able to provide much more in the way of speed. Still he fought, and so did Tanya as she drove him toward the line. She would not give in. This race might not have a clear cut winner, but she believed that it should be them.