Post by *Ripley* on Apr 10, 2015 13:08:02 GMT -5
Expect The Unexpected
featuring: Nirvana & Saintly Touch
mission: Mother Goose Stakes & Preakness Stakes
Ripley leaned against the railing of the fence, eyes trained on the pair of horses currently jogging up the track. Once again the Kentucky Derby had eluded her. Saint had thrown in an unexpected clunker and she had felt the gut check like never before. She expected losses now and again, but a horse like Saint was not supposed to lose. He was his dam's first colt and he was a talented animal. She hated the Kentucky Derby with a passion. And yet it was the ultimate unhealthy challenge. It wasn't like she hadn't had horses ready for the big dance. She'd trained Saint to a "T" and he'd lost to the day's freak in Speak Easy.
It wasn't going to happen again.
Ripley glanced down the railing where Brooks was leaning. The blond man was clocking Sun King as he came roaring up the rail. She shifted her green eyes to the brawny colt, impressed by what she was seeing. Sun King had the uncanny ability to fly and not look like he was flying. He was a superb machine, a homebred that she had raised from before his birth to now. Some would say it had been the biggest mistake of Ripley's career to not send the horse to the Derby. Ripley would back that up and say she had bigger things in mind for him. Mainly a run at the Sprinter Crown races and the Red Mile series.
She sighed as he galloped out past the jogging Saintly Touch and Nirvana. Called to Brooks, "You going to stick around for this workout?"
The blonde man shrugged. She shook her head. His blow up on Reese had been damaging to Reese's pride. She wasn't going to justify her ride to the assistant trainer and Ripley sure wasn't going to fire her. Sometimes things happened and wires got crossed. Granted, the result and the ride had been confusing, but Reese's chemistry with Saint was too good to replace.
"Well then go take over for Lane. You're going to have to change Keller's diaper. Lane isn't going to accept diaper duty quietly."
Brooks snorted, walked to Ripley and kissed her forehead. She rolled her eyes at his back before lifting the walkie-talkie to her lips.
"Alright guys. Whenever you're ready. We're sending them for a three furlong breeze. Saint doesn't need too much. Nirvana has been going two minute clips. She's as fit off of those for the nine furlongs than this work can get her."
Ripley eyed the clocker who was leaning a little closer than he had been two seconds ago. "Just gallop them up to the pole and let them go."
Lowering her voice, "Aim for 36 and change."
Reese cocked a brow, surprised at the quickness of the breeze. Neither Nirvana or Saintly Touch were known for incredible workout times. If Ripley wanted something sharp, she wanted her horses to snap out of it and be ready for their races. The Preakness and the Mother Goose were going to be testing for both. Saint would have to recover and Reese would have to sit a perfect trip to notch the victory. Reese loved her shot aboard The Devil's Touch son. Historically, The Devil's Touch foals tended to improve in their major three year old goals. The Devil's Touch herself had run fifth in the Derby and finished second in both the Preakness and Belmont Stakes. Saint was out for the win. Nothing else would be acceptable. It'd been a couple months since he'd seen the winner's circle and Reese was itching to get the colt back.
Laura nudged Nirvana into a canter at the first turn, letting the stout filly gather her momentum. She'd get her set up in the Mother Goose with Impressionable going after Jazzasoleil and company. People tended to forget about Nirvana even though she was last year's juvenile filly of the year. She was a slower to get going this season than last, but she was really sitting on the edge of grade two and her best race looked before her. The eight furlong was never going to play into her hands. Too little speed to make a run at. Against tired horses, Nirvana was coming in fresh and ready to roll.
Nirvana loped easily over the dirt, ears swinging in Saintly Touch's direction when the seal brown colt rumbled up on her inside. The strong colt paused briefly, eying the blaze faced filly with contempt. He had full of vinegar since the Derby loss. It usually happened that way when the horse hadn't gotten his energy out in a race. Reese was convinced the colt hadn't put out his best effort. He'd come out of the race, bucking and striking. Tough as nails was this Night Stalker son.
The pair galloped handily into the backstretch, ears pricking as they waited for their cue to go. Usually they were worked five to six furlongs. Saint tugged on the bit, really asking the question. Reese held him in, impressed with his generousness. He really wasn't an on the muscle colt which was why Reese had been convinced the Kentucky Derby and its aftermath was a fluke. Both she and Saintly Touch were very much out for redemption.
Saintly Touch was the first to leap into the bridle upon asking, stunning Reese. He was really in a powerful groove at the moment. Reese leaned close, held the reins firmly in her hands, feeling his mouth out and not letting him get to full of himself. Nirvana hung tough at his haunches, her ears pinned and her eyes full of irritation that had to keep up this early with the other horse.
Laura felt the strength of her filly, knew she had a potent force beneath her. Nirvana had been trucking around the dirt track at Witch Creek since her start in the Silverbulletday. She pounded the ground beneath her, muscles contracting and releasing beneath her slick hide. With powerful strides, the daughter of Gold Storm loomed up on Saint through the turn, forcing him down toward the rail over the tougher track. She was a tough little filly, Nirvana was and she knew exactly how to grab you by the throat and shake.
Saint pinned his ears irritably as Nirvana pressed him toward the rail. He didn't like her heavy presence to his outside. She was as tough as the other colts he worked with, if not as talented. Nirvana pushed him heavily through the stretch, forcing him to run just that much faster to stay ahead. Laura gave the filly mild urging, appreciating her eager response. She had Saint right where she wanted him.
Reese tapped Saint behind the saddle with her whip, let the reins loops around his neck. In the blink of an eye, Saint had his half length lead back. In two leaping strides, Saint was a length in front of Nirvana and through the wire. Reese fist pumped on the left side of Saint's neck, impressed beyond expectations.
Nirvana galloped strongly through the wire, snorting. Laura patted her filly's neck, happy with the move. Nirvana had a determined streak a mile wide. If anyone was going to be running anyone down, it would be her Gold Storm filly. Nirvana had guts and toughness and she was really getting back into form.
Ripley hid her grin from the reporters, slipping away through a new crowd of folks. She'd seen exactly what she wanted to see. The Triple Crown and Triple Tiara dreams were over, but she knew her horses would be the last ones standing when all the chips fell. It was just going to be who could stay on their feet longer and run at a faster pace.