Post by Deleted on Aug 9, 2012 16:26:52 GMT -5
The sun was high in the sky, clouds rolling across the blue expanse as if to break it up and life had started to appear everywhere. Flowers, lambs, birdsong. Things typically associated with arriving in spring, and arrive it had. For many, it was a time to celebrate, a time to be taken with family, but the Silver Stride Stables had not done that. Instead, life continued just as if nothing had changed. They were not rushing out to greet spring, to aww at lambs and to enjoy the world as it changed. Instead, they were hard at work preparing for yet another racing week. Not just any racing week, but the Spring Cup. An incredible set of races, part of the season series, where horses went against the best of horses at their own grade.
Usually, two year olds were kept away from the Spring Cup. They were too young, too inexperienced. Stables tended to be scared by facing older competition and would back away. But sometimes, someone stood up and decided to go with the flow. Silver Stride Stables had done just that with Italian Ice, the beautiful Impressario filly who definitely had the looks, and the personality to remind the world of her father. She had talent, she had proven it having taken a win and a place in her two races, but she was inexperienced. She was also, however, rested and competitive. She was talented and determined to do the best she could. She deserved to be given the chances, and if it proved too much they would pull her back to races against her own age group. But she deserved this chance.
Moving up the turf, the filly looked ready. She was lean, muscular, and built to run. She moved with a certainty and confidence of a star, and her jockey wore the expression of someone who knew they had the potential to cause an upset. Were they running an uphill battle? Yes. Did she think they had the potential to do something unexpected? Definitely. Alexia felt they could do something, perhaps not pull off a win but do something spectacular.
She had looked over the entry sheet only that morning, and they were facing five older horses, all with more experience and all expected by the general public to pummel them into the ground. Devil's Crusade, in gate one, was definitely a powerful horse - but he wasn't consistent. He had failed numerous times to come in the top three, though with his recent top-three streak he seemed to have found his top form once more. He would be a difficult contender to match. In gate two, Wannado Voodoo had struggled to impress in her juvenile season last year but had finally made the top three with a win and a place in January. Dazzling Dame, in gate three, had also struggled as a juvenile and had yet to race as a three year old. She had the potential to cause as issue, but was not the biggest threat on the track. Prince Arthur was another horse who struggled at times, but he also had some good days and when he did he was capable of great things. Not the biggest worry, but a worry non the less. The final horse was Passionate Flyer, a three year old with quite a strong record behind her and the potential to be difficult.
All in all, Alexia and Icee would need to be at their best to do much in this race, but they were courageous and willing to give it a go, which put them a step above most. Would they regret it? Maybe. Would they back down because the world expected them to do badly? No. Icee tossed her head as if she could sense negativity coming from her jockey and Alexia nodded, watching as the gates loomed. They were really going to give this a go, and she knew the filly was something special.
Gating was quick, easy. The filly did not fight or stiffen, but entered the stall with ease. She waited with a calm but intense focus once the shutters were closed behind her and both horse and jockey knew that it was a waiting game. Soon, the buzzer would sound. Soon the gates would open. Alexia shifted in her stirrups, passing weight until she was sure her balance was central and crouched close to her mount's neck, her blue eyes fixed on the track beyond the gate.
A loud noise cut the air, the gates crashed open and the filly flew out. She pressed forwards with a powerful gait and allowed the jockey to guide her to the rail. Here, Alexia knew, they would run the shortest race possible and reserve energy. Here, they would be sure to find themselves the best position they could in the race. The black filly pressed forwards quickly, but soon came under control again when her jockey pulled her back. They moved onwards, and Alexia felt the wind against her face as she stared down the track.
They were not running ten furlongs as they would come race day, but four furlongs. A short distance, which let Alexia get a true feel for how the filly was running. They moved forwards quickly, but sure of themselves, and soon Alexia began to press the filly forwards. Stride by stride, they were making good time and quite a display and as they came into the final two furlongs the race was really on. The crop cracked against the filly's rump and they surged forwards. They fought, hard, and they gave their all as they made their way up the turf. Alexia bit her lip, she could feel the filly working hard beneath her and all too soon it was over. They soared past the post, and Alexia could only hope that it was enough to make the difference.
Usually, two year olds were kept away from the Spring Cup. They were too young, too inexperienced. Stables tended to be scared by facing older competition and would back away. But sometimes, someone stood up and decided to go with the flow. Silver Stride Stables had done just that with Italian Ice, the beautiful Impressario filly who definitely had the looks, and the personality to remind the world of her father. She had talent, she had proven it having taken a win and a place in her two races, but she was inexperienced. She was also, however, rested and competitive. She was talented and determined to do the best she could. She deserved to be given the chances, and if it proved too much they would pull her back to races against her own age group. But she deserved this chance.
Moving up the turf, the filly looked ready. She was lean, muscular, and built to run. She moved with a certainty and confidence of a star, and her jockey wore the expression of someone who knew they had the potential to cause an upset. Were they running an uphill battle? Yes. Did she think they had the potential to do something unexpected? Definitely. Alexia felt they could do something, perhaps not pull off a win but do something spectacular.
She had looked over the entry sheet only that morning, and they were facing five older horses, all with more experience and all expected by the general public to pummel them into the ground. Devil's Crusade, in gate one, was definitely a powerful horse - but he wasn't consistent. He had failed numerous times to come in the top three, though with his recent top-three streak he seemed to have found his top form once more. He would be a difficult contender to match. In gate two, Wannado Voodoo had struggled to impress in her juvenile season last year but had finally made the top three with a win and a place in January. Dazzling Dame, in gate three, had also struggled as a juvenile and had yet to race as a three year old. She had the potential to cause as issue, but was not the biggest threat on the track. Prince Arthur was another horse who struggled at times, but he also had some good days and when he did he was capable of great things. Not the biggest worry, but a worry non the less. The final horse was Passionate Flyer, a three year old with quite a strong record behind her and the potential to be difficult.
All in all, Alexia and Icee would need to be at their best to do much in this race, but they were courageous and willing to give it a go, which put them a step above most. Would they regret it? Maybe. Would they back down because the world expected them to do badly? No. Icee tossed her head as if she could sense negativity coming from her jockey and Alexia nodded, watching as the gates loomed. They were really going to give this a go, and she knew the filly was something special.
Gating was quick, easy. The filly did not fight or stiffen, but entered the stall with ease. She waited with a calm but intense focus once the shutters were closed behind her and both horse and jockey knew that it was a waiting game. Soon, the buzzer would sound. Soon the gates would open. Alexia shifted in her stirrups, passing weight until she was sure her balance was central and crouched close to her mount's neck, her blue eyes fixed on the track beyond the gate.
A loud noise cut the air, the gates crashed open and the filly flew out. She pressed forwards with a powerful gait and allowed the jockey to guide her to the rail. Here, Alexia knew, they would run the shortest race possible and reserve energy. Here, they would be sure to find themselves the best position they could in the race. The black filly pressed forwards quickly, but soon came under control again when her jockey pulled her back. They moved onwards, and Alexia felt the wind against her face as she stared down the track.
They were not running ten furlongs as they would come race day, but four furlongs. A short distance, which let Alexia get a true feel for how the filly was running. They moved forwards quickly, but sure of themselves, and soon Alexia began to press the filly forwards. Stride by stride, they were making good time and quite a display and as they came into the final two furlongs the race was really on. The crop cracked against the filly's rump and they surged forwards. They fought, hard, and they gave their all as they made their way up the turf. Alexia bit her lip, she could feel the filly working hard beneath her and all too soon it was over. They soared past the post, and Alexia could only hope that it was enough to make the difference.