Holy Grail of Racing: Lost Forever?

   Thirty-three years have slipped away since Affirmed held off Alydar, in 1978, to sweep a dramatic Triple Crown.  Since that Saturday, in June, no horse has stood in the winner's circles at Churchill Downs, Pimlico, and Belmont Park all in a five week period.  Many fans, including myself, have never seen a living, breathing Triple Crown winner.   The question, 'What changed?' has come up, and moderation is being considered by the racing industry.

   Are the fields too strong for one horse to go 3-0?  History says no. Although, the times were slower than usual in 2010, in the previous years, the finishes have hovered around average times for the Triple Crown.

  Common sense would tell us that the horses of today should be more prepared for the Triple Crown trail; a less vigorous racing schedule, better nutrition, more advanced medical technology and less stressful transportation.  Then what evidence is there to support a theory that the Thoroughbred can no longer handle the wear and tear of the Triple Crown trail?  In the first half of the 20th century, horses would run races only days apart without injury.   A horse, such as War Admiral, had winning streaks that would include races just a week apart. Of course, I am certainly not suggesting that horses should be run so often, but it gives me pause to think.

   Every year, around Derby time, I'm sure it is on the minds of The Jockey Club and NTRA, how it would give the racing industry a huge boost to have another Triple Crown winner. Last year, various leaders in the industry suggested possible changes; one was to adjust the distances of the Triple Crown races, and another was to make it for four year olds.  These ideas never seem to gain any traction.  No doubt because they don't want to diminish the accomplishments of past Triple Crown greats, such as Secretariat, Seattle Slew, Affirmed, Gallant Fox, Omaha, Whirlaway, Citation, Sir Barton, War Admiral, Count Fleet, and Assault.  I personally believe that the actual races should never be changed.  But one thing I could live with is changing the eligibility guidelines.  One possible change could be that you must participate in each consecutive race in order to move to the next.  No racing in the Derby and skipping the Preakness so you can save your horse for the Belmont.  Just imagine how different the 2009 campaign would have looked; Mine That Bird would have won the Derby, Preakness, and Belmont!  Also, making history being the first gelding to win the Triple Crown!  

   Is it a coincidence that the Breeders' Cup was created just a few years following the last Triple Crown winner?  Could this have changed thoroughbred racing to the extent that we will never see another Triple Crown winner again?  The Breeders’ Cup may have had a bigger impact on racing than was anticipated.  I believe that because there are now more important races, bigger purses and different distances, breeders began focusing on creating a Thoroughbred that could run average race distances.  It makes sense that this began in the '80's, with the introduction of the Breeders' Cup.  Breeding for the Classic distance has become less and less popular.

   Leading breeders should make a strong effort to bring Classic distance back into horses' pedigrees.  Importing promising mares from major racing countries in Europe, as Claiborne, and August Belmont did in the early 1900's would be a great start.  Both farms had their best success from their European stock.  From England, came Rock Sand, which led to Man O' War; La Troienne, one of the greatest broodmares of all time, and Giant's Causeway, who sired Eskendereya. 

   I remain hopeful that racing’s “powers that be” will strive forward towards creating another Triple Crown champion. 

 

Finding Love

  
Driving out from the city to the small Georgia horse farm where our two Quarter Horse geldings, Leo and Fred, were pasture boarded, I was completely unaware of how my life would be changed forever.

   The horses were only grained at dinner time, so every morning during the cold winter days, we would fill five gallon jugs of hot water to mix a warm breakfast for Leo and Fred. The pasture was so large that sometimes when we arrived you couldn’t see any horses at all. So we would yell, as loud as we could, to call the boys. I always thought it was so funny how out of seventeen horses, only Fred and Leo would come cantering to us. It didn’t take long for them to understand who got food and who didn’t get food. There was one exception…the one that would change my life.

   Fred and Leo, separated into a small paddock would plunge their cold noses into the steaming grain buckets filled with warm, sloppy grain. One of the other boarded geldings, a twenty-five year old, Thoroughbred, Polka, would slowly move his arthritic bones down towards the paddock, and patiently watch our boys lick every last morsel from their buckets.

   Polka had been a long term resident at this facility, approximately fifteen years. His owner had to relocate to New Orleans and felt it was best to leave him at his home in Georgia, where she visited him when she could. Polka was in a sense, faceless. He had to wear a fly mask at all times, because he would develop chronic eye irritations that needed treatment, and the mask seemed to give him some protection. Not being able to see his face, also made him somewhat not real to me.

   Finally came the day when my mother said, “Enough! Let him in!” She fixed a warm breakfast for three that morning, and every morning since. Not so long after Polka became part of the morning feeding ritual, I finished grooming Fred and Leo, and decided Polka needed a good scrubbing too. As he stood, contentedly chewing on some hay, since he didn’t have to worry about being run off by another horse for his pile. I curried, brushed, and combed his mane and tail. Lastly, picked his feet and stood up to take a final glance at how good he looked. Something wasn’t right. Something was off. I had left his fly mask on so no dust or debris would get into his eyes. I yelled to my mother, in the barn, since I was finished, “Could I take his mask off and brush his face?”

   She said, “Sure. Just be careful for his eyes.”

   I gently spoke to him as I pulled at the velcro under his chin, and slowly pulled the mask from his ears to reveal the most beautiful face I had ever seen. I took a deep breath and took a moment to look into his eyes, he had “the look of the eagles”, and followed his striking white blaze down his nose. I finally blinked and with my second breath, I yelled sharply, almost screaming, to my mother, “Come quick!”

   My mother bolted out from the barn, thinking, no doubt, that something was wrong. She shouted, “What, what! What is wrong?”

   “Look! His face!” I exclaimed.

   I believe that is when my mother realized we just got another horse! Polka was mine and I was his. It was as simple as that. 

  We treated Polka no differently than we treated Fred and Leo. He enjoyed getting his daily grooming so much, that if I spent to much time grooming the other boys, he would be obviously jealous. I would gladly make it up to him by re-grooming him all over again. Polka had leapt into my heart and soul with all four hooves. I was starved to learn any facts about Polka. His owner was up for a visit and was very happy to see Polka getting care and attention. She had mentioned that she had shown Polka as a successful hunter-jumper. She also shared that he had been a twin and his twin died during birth. This explained his small size. He had very good breeding and she told me he was a descendent of Native Dancer. This one statement opened a new world for me.

   I immediately dove into the computer and searched for any information about Native Dancer. I had no idea who he was, and all I knew about racehorses was that they ran fast. I became captivated by this wonderful horse. I was eager to learn more and more about thoroughbred racing.

   I was only ten years old when I pulled that mask from Polka’s face. His owner had told me I could ride him anytime I wanted. To say the least, I was a little apprehensive about riding in general. After weeks of caring for Polka, I decided to put on my helmet, and boots and give it a try. We saddled and bridled Polka, who hadn’t been ridden for quite a long time. I led him into a small round pen for our first ride together. I gave him a pat and a kiss on the nose, promising I would never hurt him. My mother held him while I used a mounting block to climb on. I secured my feet in the stirrups, grabbed hold of the reins and took a deep breath. The anticipation of the first step was so exciting. My mother walked beside us for just a few steps, realizing Polka was completely okay with me. Polka and I walked and talked together for a little while. We seem to both understand that he was helping me relax and I was helping him feel important again. I only rode Polka occasionally, because he was so special to me and I felt his “riding days” were over, but I know he enjoyed the occasional stroll around the farm. We were a great match for each other. I was afraid to ride any faster than a walk, and Polka’s favorite speed was a walk. He was a wonderful horse to ride, and I was very gentle with him. He always wore his ears up when we rode together.

   We soon bought a farm outside the city and Polka’s owner agreed that we could bring Polka with us and be his new family. It was heavenly to have Polka at my house and see him anytime I wanted.

   My interest in racing skyrocketed. I read all the articles and books about racing I could get my hands on. I began to follow Bloodhorse’s website, keeping track of all the races and horses being run.

   When I started studying bloodlines, I first looked into Polka’s. What I discovered was an exceptional pedigree worthy of only the greatest racehorses.

   He was out of Pojarsky, by Porterhouse, who is responsible for multiple track records; and his broodmare sire was Bimelech, by Black Toney, and out of La Troienne, one of the top broodmares of all time. Nasrullah is five generations back on the dam’s side as well. Most horses in the fifth generation of Pojarsky’s pedigree are from multiple countries in Europe.

  On the sire’s female family, all of his ancestors in the fifth generation are from all different parts of Europe, including France, Great Britain, and even Italy. His sire, Dancing Count, is by Northern Dancer. The incredible, Native Dancer, sired Northern Dancer’s dam. Though Dancing Count won his only two starts in Canada, he has a stakes race named after himself, and was the broodmare sire of the 1991 Preakness, and Belmont winner Hansel. In those two races, Hansel beat out the Derby winner Strike The Gold, and won the Eclipse Award for Three Year Old Male.

  Polka was foaled, out of an unraced mare, in Maryland, on an April spring day, in 1982. Twenty-nine years ago, Pojarsky foaled twins, one living, and one less fortunate. Polka seems as if he will live forever, happily enjoying life in great health. His eye troubles have ended, in the early summer of last year, by removing his bad eye. But he still wears a flymask to keep his good eye safe from harm. Polka has forged a place in my heart, which I will carry with me forever.

   How amazing it is that something like taking the time to care for an old gelding changed my whole life. Polka has led me to a place that I would have never believed I would love as much as I do today. You never know when a door is going to open, and who will be opening it for you.