Post by *Ripley* on Sept 4, 2012 19:36:35 GMT -5
Brooks could not believe that he had only trucked Freeze in three days before his most important race of his career yet. Freeze had run once over the Green Horse Field's turf and had found it much to his liking, finishing third against tough grade five competition. This time with a few more wins to their name, Frozen Motion was returning to conquer his demon. The gray colt had been awesome in his previous workout against Infinite Warcry, a competitor for the Turf Triple Crown. The colt had been training like an express train the entire week ever since his victory in the Ultimo Derby. Brooks rubbed his hands together, watching him outside of his stall.
Freeze's dark eyes rolled over his jockey and almost trainer with interest. The colt could sense that something was up. He narrowed his gaze over Brooks. He'd been poulticed last night and given some supplements to help his energy level for race day. He knew what both of these items meant, knew that a race was around the corner. Usually the day or the day after. So, the big gray colt was puzzled over why Brookson Wells was greeting him at five in the morning with a crafty look on his face that usually signaled a workout. Brookson could only smile at the curious look on Freeze's face. They had such a good partnership together that it spread beyond just working out and racing together. Brooks lived and breathed Frozen Motion and was his main caretaker. They celebrated their triumphs and suffered through defeats. Battled cuts and scrapes and prepared to take on the best of the best.
This next race in the Grade Four Turf would judge their position in regards to later races in the Turf Triple Crown and beyond. Freeze had grown in strength, mind and body. He was becoming the torch that led Witch Creek Stable into unfamiliar territory. Taking on the turf. Brooks scraped some dust off the light saddle pad as he eyed the competitors entered for the Grade Four Turf. Among the entrants were: Thunderstrike, The Innocent Skier, Devil's Crusade, Wild Kiss and Georgie's Girl. A tough race for sure, but not an impossible one to win. Just last week they'd won stylishly over Georgie's Girl in the Ultimo and were still proudly surging on the adrenaline rush that victory had been.
Brookson groomed his future turf champion, remembering the last week's studying of the competition. Thunderstrike would lead the post parade in gate one. He'd finished extremely well behind Infinite Warcry in the Wire Finish Cup Turf, actually causing a scare to that specific horse. He would be a front runner in this race again, accept he wouldn't be by himself getting away with murder. Freeze had mastered that stalk and tackle technique pretty well. Georgie's Girl would be close by in this one as well and if need be, Freeze would sit off both her and Thunderstrike and let them go at each other. The rest of the field would follow, made up of closers and midpackers. The Devil's Crusade would be the next closest, running smack dab in the middle of the field. Wild Kiss and The Innocent Skier would close out the pack, however, Brooks was certain they would be the toughest of the entire race when it came down to the homestretch.
The blonde man ran his hands through his hair. Today's workout had been called by both Ripley and himself. Their training partnership was taking a leap here, but both of them were certain that this workout would help Freeze do extremely well. Freeze reveled in running and working out. He'd been prepped carefully this month to have him ready for these last two weeks of March. He'd been on edge the entire week, especially after his recent workout with Infinite Warcry. It was Brooks' and Ripley's combined worry that the dappled gray would be too on edge. As a result, a mile of warmup and three furlong blow-out would be given to the powerfully built horse.
Brooks patted his mount's neck and smiled. You're ready to show 'em whose boss, aren't you, Freeze? I hope so because the way you've been training... just been off the charts. Freeze nickered and Brooks smiled only to turn around and see Ripley laughing at him with feed buckets in hand. Being a little self-complimentary there, aren't you Brooks? She laughed at him and then darted away to feed Popcorn Blitz and Cross My Heart. Don't listen to her Freeze. You're the man and you'll show 'em all today. Even that negative Nancy over there. His voice had risen a couple of levels on purpose, just to hear Ripley snort in doubt.
Brooks was soon finished tacking up his gray mount. He nodded arrogantly at Ripley who was grooming Blitzen and then mounted up. Instantly, Freeze tightened up in excitement. God, he'd been feeling fantastic. Brooks wanted to chant with excitement. What a ride this next race would be. The dappled gray stepped out, dual colored tail fanning out behind him like a cape, into the week morning sunlight. Grooms and trainers acknowledged the presence of Brooks and nodded in approval of the mount. Last time Freeze had been here, no one had taken notice of him. But now, there was no other choice. He'd been powerful force on the Wire Racing Circuit and now Witch Creek was bringing the gray's show over to Green Horse Fields as well. For Brooks, Freeze was out to prove that he was a star in the making. For Ripley, it was a chance to show that Infinite Warcry wasn't going to be alone when the Turf Triple Crown started up.
Frozen Motion looked out over the track with extremely curious eyes. His body tingled in excitement and he perked up instantly at the sight of horses running on the track. He knew he'd be running there soon. He zeroed in on the running horses, sucking in their physiques, their styles, everything. He'd taken on an analytical approach recently and had been gunning for specific opponents just based on looks and behaviors before the race. Brooks' colt moved when he wanted to move, though sometimes it was a joint effort. Mostly, Brooks was on auto-pilot. This morning appeared to be just the same.
Freeze instantly honed in on the entrance to the turf track, body gliding over the loamy dirt in that direction. Gradually, his stride had smoothened out, but still Brooks wasn't always comfortable on his beautiful colt unless they were running full steam ahead. He talked nonchalantly to other riders when they passed by, noting their suspicious looks when he mentioned a blow out. So they didn't think it could work? He'd show them.
The gray colt shook his head and chomped at the bit, collecting himself in a threatening way, showing he was clearly on his toes and ready to roll. The clockers took note of Freeze's fantastic appearance and bold morning nature. Whatever he was going to do this morning would effect their opinion of him in the afternoon. Brooks leaned forward and Freeze instantly leaped into his great bounding gallop. He pulled and relented, pulled and relented. Constantly vying for control, half-heartedly, knowing he'd get what he wanted, eventually. Freeze tossed his head and settled into his brilliant rhythm, cruising over the turf.
Brooks was impressed with the way Freeze was gripping the turf. He honestly was feeling the most impressive he'd ever felt. Just well within himself and showing off for the mounted and unmounted onlookers. His body was filled out and his hind exceptional. His legs were nicely muscled and his head glimmered like molten silver. The picture of the perfect turf horse. Brooks' patted the colt's shoulder, maintaining an otherwise relative picture of stillness atop the sixteen point one hand Spitz colt. He didn't have to do anything to enhance Freeze. Freeze was enchanting all on his own this morning.
The half-mile ended at the start of the homestretch. Brooks could feel Freeze gather himself up. His body becoming a spring. Brooks grinned beneath his helmet visor and just lurched forward. In response, Freeze leaped like a gray corvette up the track, gripping the turf and pushing off. Brooks was still motionless as Frozen Motion cruised smoothly up the turf stretch. There was nothing he could do to make Freeze go any faster, nothing he wanted to do. Freeze's mane whipped around his delicate head, causing him to look fiercer and wilder. Brooks felt Freeze lengthen his stride, but thought nothing of it. The blowout was being done nicely and well in control. Freeze just bounded effortlessly, in great strides, a comfortable cruising speed.
Freeze finished the workout up in a flowing, streaming run. A flashy creature of the morning and later today, a flashy creature of the afternoon. Brooks pulled him up around the far turn, caught him in that beautifully collected gallop from the eye of an onlooker, standing up because it wasn't so beautiful when you were the passenger. Those three furlongs had been fantastic. A perfectly timed workout in :36 seconds. A proper blow out. He looked around the crowd along the rails and noted their astonished looks. They were enraptured by his dappled gray.
Freeze wasn't even breathing hard as they passed through the gap to the backstretch. Ripley stood there, mouth agape. Do you know what you just did? Brooks stared, lifting his eyebrow. No... he wasn't quite sure after the welcoming by both Ripley and the crowd. What? Ripley shook her head. Still in disbelief, she reached between Freeze's forelegs and found that his chest was barely hot. Do you know how fast you were going? Brooks pursed his lips. :36 seconds for three furlongs. A solid blowout. Ripley snorted and escorted Freeze and Brooks back to the barn, quiet for a while. Try :34 and change for three furlongs. Brooks stared at her in genuine shock and horror. There's no way, he pulled a :34 and change? Is there? He felt great and so in control... Brooks trailed off, staring down at his peppy mount.
I wish other horses had his :34 and change. Because that was too good. I had to recheck with the clockers to verify. You've made a statement Brookson Wells. You've stunned everyone at the track currently, including myself. I'm pretty positive the rest of the racing world will be floored later on as well. Brooks was quiet in response, mulling the time and mulling his extraordinary horse. Freeze tossed his head and let out a squeal and a buck for good measure.