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Post by S u N f r O s T ~ on Feb 8, 2009 13:55:25 GMT -5
The dark bay pranced in place as I mounted up in one swift motion. He calmed down slightly as my weight registered with him, but I knew his eyes would still be gleaming. A drop of desire would sprinkle into them when I asked him to walk, because he knew we would be working at the track. But today, we wouldn't be alone. Amber Black had promised to help me train the Breeder's Cup Turf hopeful. She said she had a surprise horse to train my stallion. I was excited. Passionate Class, finally, was going places.
He was a tall colt with the long, measured strides of a distance runner. He enjoyed the turf track a lot - it seemed to calm him, as if it was the grass he used to run in as a weanling in the pasture. He had won the Breeder's Cup Mile as a three year old on this surface; we were all hoping for another big win, this time in the Breeder's Cup Turf. He accelerated to a trot as the reins loosened once we entered the green turf track. His strides became a small bit more energetic, and his paces changed back and forth as he stretched out and warmed up. I shaded my eyes to see who we were running against, and let my jaw drop open.
A majestic black mare was waiting for us at the wire. Her shiny black coat was radiant with the sunlight, and every muscles was accentuated. She was the turf queen, one of the best turf racehorses of her time. She was Little Miss Innocent. Amber smiled at us as we got closer, seeing the excitement written all over my face. Classy, however, snorted in disdain as we pulled up beside the smaller horse. He seemed to be saying to himself This is my challenger? She'll be easy! Missy's reaction was a sharp snort and stomp of her front hoof. Her eyes gleamed, and I knew she would make a run of it.
Amber quickly briefed me on workout instructions. One mile on the turf. Run with Classy's closer style. Missy and I will take the lead. Try not to get beaten by too much. The smirk on her face convinced me to ignore the last, lest I glared back at my employer. I forced my face into an emotionless mask, and urged Classy to the inside of the fence. We would show them. Missy may be turf queen, but my Classy could very well be the current turf king.....
Amber focused on the race at hand as well. She pulled Missy to our outside and made sure we were evenly matched. Then she began the countdown. Three.....two.....one......BEGIN!
Missy was off fast. The black mare poured it on, and was a length in front of us already. She was directly in front of us actually, blocking any advance we may want to make. I grit my teeth and let Classy run his race. The four year old's strides begged for speed, but the stallion used his brain. He measured them out into equal each, and fast enough to not let the mare go too far ahead. His ears were pricked, and I could tell he was enjoying himself.
At the first turn, I saw Missy escalate her speed. She was now leading by two lengths, maybe three. Classy snorted quietly with frustration and lengthened his strides. He cut the distance down by a length before we entered the backstretch. Now I could see clearly how much Missy led by. A solid two lengths separated us. Classy patiently bided his time as a furlong went past, and then chopped off another length. Missy seemed to feel the closeness, and widened her lead once more. She was challenging Classy to wear himself out. Classy once more kept up the patient facade, but real frustration was evident in his stride. It was clear he hadn't expected this from the champion mare.
We were halfway through the backstretch, and neither horse showed signs of tiring. Missy's legs bunched with muscle each time she used them to propel herself forward. Classy's looked the same, I believed. The two of them could go the distance and still pull off a classy win. I hoped my stallion would beat the mare. He needed a reputation if he was to win the Turf, like a lot of Hall Of Famers had. Of course, Onya had beaten Ario once, and it hadn't added to her reputation....but things could be different with grade ones.
We had a furlong left in the backstretch when Classy poured it on. Like gasoline on fire, he widened his stride and ate up the distance separating him from glory. Missy didn't accelerate yet, and I wondered why. We were on her outside, neck to neck, and then the turn came and I saw her strategy. I was forced to slow Classy for the turn, but Missy accelerated. She left us in the dust, putting two lengths between us, and showed no signs of fatigue or stopping. I urged Classy on with a nudge of my heel. He didn't need any encouragement, but because of his bulk was forced to slow on the turn.
We finally entered the stretch. We had two furlongs to get into the lead. Classy's power finally became apparent. His strides ripped up the ground, and he reached Missy's flank. His muscles were heaving, his bay coat rippling, but Missy was like a unicorn. She lowered her head and pushed off some more, her hidden but strong muscles rippling in unison with the movement of her legs. We weren't fast enough to beat this supreme power, but we weren't going down without a fight.
I asked Classy for more, begged for more, and Classy heaved his legs forward to an astonishing pace. We fought for every inch, running at the top of our game. Now I saw Missy struggling. The black's muscles were looking strained, and for the first time I became aware of the two champions panting. Amber's eyes were pumping up and down with Missy's neck, and I was doing the same with Classy.
The two horses gave it their all, but Missy came out on top by a length. We blazed under the wire, and both horses slowed. There was shock evident in Classy's labored movements, shock and rage. No horse was to beat him now, not after the Breeder's Cup! His dark bay coat was nearly black with sweat, but his ears were down. I knew he had learned something from this experience; never underestimate your opponent.
Missy danced, covered in sweat as well but thrilled with racing and winning. Amber's face was proud, but one look at my face made her smirk and nod. My face clearly said You wait until next time..... [/blockquote]
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