"The Chance of a Lifetime in a Lifetime of Chance"

And so the poignant lyrics of Dan Fogleberg's song, Run For The Roses, go.  They speak to us in an oddly melancholy way, because during Derby week, chance meets opportunity in perhaps the most famous, if not the richest horse race in the world.

At Churchill Downs excess breathes excitement. While private jets sit wing tip to wing tip and nose to tail at the local airport, thousands pay $300.00 each to swelter in the noonday sun while they party on, dancing, drinking or sleeping off a colossal hangover, only to rise like the Phoenix to party again. The infield is so crowded that few if any will actually see the race.  Most will watch on huge screens posted variously among them.

But if you have $12,000.00, you may spend the afternoon seated in air-conditioned comfort high above the race course on the grandstand's topmost floor, enjoying much of what money and privilege offer and allow.

There are other diversions though.  Hats so grotesque that they are no less than a milliner's nightmare.

It takes some moxy to wear this little number.

 To walk among the throng of race goers is to be treated to a movable feast of fashion the likes of which you have seldom, if ever, seen.  Coiffed, barbered and dressed to the nines, men and women strut their finest, often without regard for taste.  Taste, well, just take a take a gander at the great skier Lindsey Vonn's ensemble.

Lindsey Vonn.  Tasteful, tasteless or just hot?

A believer in equal opportunity, this gentlemen joins in the fun.  And the beer.

And don't forget the ubiquitous and vile tasting Mint Julep.  Here is one of many recipes for making the classic Derby Mint Julep:

• 1 cup of sugar
• 1 cup water
• 1 cup of rinsed mint leaves, de-stemmed and coarsely chopped
• 1 (750 ml) bottle of respectable Kentucky Bourbon.  (Not sure there is such a thing.)
• crushed ice

What no cherry?

The run to the first Saturday in May began 56 million years ago, when the dawn horse, the tiny Eohippus appeared in what would become The United States.  The horse's appearance marked the beginning of and proliferation of life as we know it.  Prolific, the early horse quickly spread, perhaps across the land bridge to Asia, Africa and Europe.  Millions of years passed and for reasons yet unknown, the horse disappeared from the American landscape, reappearing in the sixteenth century with the arrival of the Spanish conquerors. 

Long prior to their reintroduction to the Americas, horses, because of their speed and grace, made racing a sport on the steppes of Asia, in the sylvan settings of Europe and the sands of North Africa.  It remains so today.

I often compare the Kentucky Derby to the circus.  We tolerate the hideous clowns, the men on stilts and the souvenir hawkers, while waiting, scarcely breathing, for lumbering elephants to appear and finally, the lions and tigers, who though caged, bring us to the edges of our seats in anticipation of a disaster that might befall the lion tamer.



Just one look at this animal and you understand why we love them so much.

 

Cathryn Sophia made her mark early in Derby Week by biting her groom in the stomach and knocking him out of her stall.  She was a bargain priced yearling filly (Street Boss x Sheave x Mineshaft), just $30,000.   She provided a pretty substantial  return on investment in her 2-3/4 length victory over Land Over Sea in the 1-1/8 mile G1 Longines Kentucky Oaks on Friday.   The purse: $1,000,000.  

 

The brat: Cathryn Sophia, in the Kentucky Oaks.

 

Her trainer, John Servis, said, "She's not crazy, she's just mean.  She's not like that really out of the stall, but when you're in her stall, that's her stall."  See what I mean about the circus coming to town.

 

 

On the Derby undercard, Sharpe Azteca, winner of the G3 Pat Day Mile.

My vote for the best turned out horse of the entire card.

 

 

Nyquist's glittering record of seven consecutive wins, especially his trouncing of archrival Mohaymen in the Florida Derby, did little to add to his luster in the public eye.  How does American Pharoah capture the public fancy and Nyquist, on paper more accomplished than AP, does not?  Nyquist has won "over four race tracks covering the East Coast, the West Coast and Kentucky.  He has won on the lead and from off the pace.  He has overcome trouble out of the gate and forced to go wide."  There is just no explaining the presence, the grace, or magic of American Pharoah.  Nyquist, the talented workman, or AP and his ballet on four flashing hooves. The public has clearly made its choice.

 

Breaking well from stall thirteen, Nyquist showing early speed, was throttled back by jockey Mario Gutierrez, allowing speedster, Danzing Candy, to assume the lead at the first turn.

 

At the head of the stretch, Nyquist running outside and out of trouble along with Gun Runner, overhauled the tiring Danzing Candy.  Gun Runner "pricking his ears back and forth at the top of the stretch," assumed the lead briefly before Nyquist rallied in top gear, speeding to the finish line ahead of a desperate charge under the whip of Kent Desormeaux, by the luckless Exxagerator.

 

 

The Derby stretch drive.  Nyquist, center, with red shadow roll. 

 











The winning time: 2:01.31 before the Derby's second largest crowd of over 167,000.  And the finish was just the way the public bet them: Nyquist, Exxagerator, Gun Runner (my choice) and Mohaymen. 

 

For Exxagerator and the Desormeaux brothers, now 0 for 4 against Nyquist, its back to the drawing board.  Perhaps they will stay closer to the pace in the Preakness.  Seems the only thing to do.  And what of Mohaymen, a son of Tapit?  The gritty Gun Runner?  Who knows?  The racing gods do.

 

And the tents were folded and shipped off in the night and somewhere a tiny Eohippus, the dawn horse, raises its head, offers a soft nicker and resumes its grazing.

 



 

 



** My apologies, the centering and spacing are off and I am unable to correct them for some reason unknown to me.

Copyright, July 11, 2016 y Loren R. Schunacher
Photos copyrighted as noted.

Independence Day

From me, my family and our  horses, Stormy and Callie,  Happy Birthday America, July 4, 2016.

 

 

 

We have it all: strength, grace, choice and freedom.

 

God bless the USA.

Baby, Baby Can't You Hear My Heart Beat?

Well can you?  Hear my heart beat that is.  I haven't written much lately, too busy with my small business, taking care of the horses, trying to keep up with the mowing.  You know how it is, your life is much the same.

But three or four weeks ago I went to see my primary care physician.  Because I live in Sinus City (Cincinnati area), I thought the irritation in my bronchial tubes was from sinus drip, and it was.  I had a lung infection very much like pneumonia.  But it was the heartburn that made my doctor run an EKG, and the results proved enough variation from the previous one for him to request an echo stress test.

Long story made short, my body passed with flying colors.  3.5 miles per hour up a 14% grade, no problem, because I am ridiculously fit.  My heart, however, was looking for help.

What I had been feeling for more than a year, a little heaviness in my chest, a raw disquieting feeling and a heart beating harder than I thought it should, were symptoms of a probable calamity.

A week ago, while walking a friend's dog, there was a slightly more intense chest discomfort, a burning really, that caused my doctor to say, "Go to the emergency room."  I did, and for the rest of a long sleepless night the staff poked and pushed, drew quarts of blood, ran this test and that and put a needle in my left arm to drip a blood thinner through a pump that whirred and clicked every 90 or so seconds.

After nothing to eat or drink for more than thirteen hours, a heart catheterization procedure to implant a stent was unsuccessful.  Why?  Because I have three blockages: one of 100% that has already by-passed naturally, one of 95% and one of 80%.  I am a heart attack or stroke waiting to happen.

So on Tuesday of this week I will have open-heart surgery.  It is a terrible thing, four hours or more in length.  My sternum will be split and an artery from my leg will be used to patch one of the damaged arteries  and there is more, but no need to go on and on with gory details.  I will be plugged into a heart-lung machine and could wake with "pump-brain" which if you have had cancer is supposed to be very similar to "chemo-brain."  Six hours in recovery, 24 hours in ICU and then the fun begins. Stand up, sit down, cough and hug this heart-shaped pillow which is used as a splint to keep you from blowing out your sternum, now held together with wire.

There will be 5 or 6 days in the hospital, followed by cardio-rehab and a great deal of pain.  And all the while my wife Carol will be there and when she goes home there are the cats to feed; the house to keep up, horses to be picked up after, fed and groomed and grass to cut.  All of these things and then I crawl through the door, a semi-invalid, who is not allowed to do ANYTHING!

Even though I am the one with a problem, the real victim in this play is my wife, the love of my life. You know, the one who has stood by me when I was a childish asshole, comforted me through tragedies, job disruptions and only God knows what else she has quietly endured.

So if you should read this and have a spare prayer or two, say one for both of us, we'll need it and we thank you for your thoughts.


Copyright June 19,2016 by Loren R. Schumacher

I want to mention that while I am mending I will be writing.  I have parts of three stories written about this year's Triple Crown (better late than never), a post on the 2016 Road To The Horse and a story about a nationally ranked competitor in Western Pleasure and other disciplines.  It may be a while until the next post, but there will be a next post.  Thanks for reading my blog.

Title taken from an old Herman's Hermits song, Can't You Hear My Heart Beat?

Some Thoughts On Memorial Day 2016.

Surely most every Londoner and Parisian is proud of his or her country.  Seldom though is a country that has given and sacrificed so much to the world been maligned and reviled as much as the United States of America, the country that I call home.

Criticize our mistakes, but never forget the blood we've sacrificed to the freedom that we and many other nations enjoy today.  People die everyday trying to reach the United States.  Some walk across the desert, others sail in flimsy rafts over shark infested waters.  Many cross our borders in dark trailers, most without ventilation or sanitation, food or water.  People from around the world will do nearly anything that is legal or illegal to reach our borders and live in these United States.  And somehow we find a place for them and accord them the same rights that we as citizens born to this republic enjoy.  

Our loyalty is to an idea and not a person.

Why do they come?  Because they want to enjoy the freedom, the right to self-determination and the opportunities to which we were born.  Things we take for granted.

We are a nation with a big heart and broad shoulders, willing to carry the burden that others cannot bear alone. The United States is a nation of great wealth and resources, some of which we have squandered or given away.  Chief among these are the men and women, more than a million in number, who have fought and died for the idea that is the United States.  We all know that in battle, idealism is a casualty.  A soldier fights for his life and the life of his buddies on either side of him, in the hope that all of them might live to go home.  But in the end it is the ideal, the principle of freedom and not the spoils that send us into conflict.

Enormous problems plague us: the economy, race relations, endless war, an unsettled political climate, a crumbling infrastructure and the exponential growth of our national debt.  Let's not forget terrorism and the criminally insane radical Muslims from outside as well as inside our country who would kill every one of us, even women and children, and then dance happily in celebration.

I want to remind Mr. Trump and Mrs. Clinton that they need not "make America great again," The United States is great and will remain great because of its people.  Government simply needs to get out of the way, do the job for which it was intended and stop encroaching on our public and private lives.

This morning as I finished taking care of my horses, Callie and Stormy, a pair of F-16 fighter jets banked in a lazy arc right above my head.  Silly me, I raised my hand to wave at them as if they might see me and waggle their wings in recognition.  But as they sped off to the northeast in tandem, I couldn't help but think that those two faceless men or women would kill or be killed for me.  That is a powerful thing to contemplate, that their devotion to duty and our national ideals would drive them to pay the ultimate price for a little guy tending his horses in a pasture beneath their wings.  And they would do it without question.

Neither my mother or father served in World War II, but they held defense critical jobs.  My mother worked at Peters Cartridge in Kings Mills, Ohio ( today the home of Kings Island Amusement Park) and my dad at Fox Paper, where paper insulation used to ship explosives shells was made.  My father-in-law was a combat soldier, wounded in France.  My grandfather, who left Kentucky at the tender age of 15 in 1918 to join the Army, worked for the King Powder Company (also in Kings Mills, Ohio ) where explosives were made.  Those who stayed at home and those fought should be remembered as heroes, because they were.

There are three songs that can move most Americans to tears, our National Anthem, The Star Spangled Banner (though it is impossible to sing), and

America The Beautiful

O beautiful for spacious skies,

For amber waves of grain,

For purple mountains majesties

Above the fruited plain!

America! America!

God shed his grace on thee

And crown thy good with brotherhood

From sea to shining sea.

God Bless the U.S.A.
by Lee Greenwood

(chorus)

And I'm proud to be an American

Where at least I know I'm free

And I won't forget the men who died

Who gave that right to me.

And I'd gladly stand up next to you

And defend Her still today

'Cause there ain't no doubt

I love this land

God Bless the U.S.A.

Taken May 29, 2016

My wife and I watched the lightening flicker just above the treetops in the eastern sky and marveled at the beauty of this warm spring evening.  And I couldn't help but think about the dream that is the America and what it has meant to me. To all of us.

Copyright May 30, 2016 by Loren Schumacher
Cloud photo by Carol A. Lang May 29, 2016

Where's The Wire?

His first stride was not as explosive as jockey Victor Espinoza would have hoped, but with his second stride California Chrome accelerated and his saddle began to slip.  Over the remaining 1-1/4 miles of the Dubai World cup it slipped from the heart-girth nearly to Chrome's loins. Somehow Espinoza managed to lean forward enough to keep his balance and race on.

...slipped from his heart-girth nearly to Chrome's loins.

Racing from the eleventh post position Chrome, wearing blinkers a drab grey/silver in color, powered to a stalking position by the first turn, three wide, third behind the talented Mshawish with Frankie Dettorri up and Special Fighter shadowing just off his flank.  Not wanting to be trapped in traffic, Espinoza kept Chrome three wide up the back stretch.   Mubtaahij moved to within striking distance in fourth, with my favorite, Frosted, lurking in fifth.  The first quarter was run in a leisurely 25:3, but the pace quickened in the second to 23:6.

In a pre-race interview Espinoza said that he lets the horse tell him what kind of race it wants to run. What if the horse doesn't want to do what I have in mind?  Espinoza said that if the other horses would give him the lead in the world's richest race, he would take it, but still would have been happy lying either first or second, just off the lead.

Pre-race workout.  Look at his size and his impressive muscular development.  Magnificent.

The son of Lucky Pulpit had finished a disappointing second in last year's Dubai World Cup to Prince Bishop and then was shipped to England hoping to compete at Ascot.  But Chrome suffered a bruised canon bone which sidelined him for the balance of 2015.

Returning to competition in January 2016, Chrome finished first in the San Pasqual Stakes-G2 with World Cup competitor Hoppertunity finishing third.  While he did not look particularly sharp after the long layoff, his win left trainer Art Sherman satisfied and confident in Chrome's future.  His form was much improved in his second race, this time at Meydan Race Club in Dubai, where he finished powerfully to win its February 25th handicap race.

Horses are at their physical peak in their fifth year, finally mature in bone, muscle and experience.  As the World Cup herd turned for home, Chrome's will and strength were tested as he lay third until Mshawish drifted out and Mubtaahij slipped into contention along the rail.  Chrome, now four wide, powered up as Frosted pushed himself into the mix lying fifth on the far outside.  Hoppertunity, whose career has been spent chasing California Chrome, struggled to find running room after a race spent in the rearmost rank.

Inside the last 300 meters the logjam began to break up with Frosted and Mshawish fading and Mubtaahij moving boldly into second position,  Espinosa went to the right hand whip, two or three times, perhaps more, and the gap between Chrome and the field widened to 3-3/4 lengths at the wire.
In winning, Chrome set a course record for 1-1/4 miles at 2.01:5 and in doing so collected $6 million dollars of the race's $10 million purse, making Chrome the richest horse in America's long history of Thoroughbred racing with $12,532,650.00 in earnings.  Mubtaahij finished second with the unlucky Hoppertunity third.  Frosted, valiant and game as always, slipped to fifth and the early leader, Mshawish, dropped away from the pace to finish a distant sixth,

"Where is the wire?"

As soon as he could pull the classy chestnut with his flashy white blaze and stockings (Chrome) up, Espinoza leaped to the racing surface to adjust and tighten Chrome's errant saddle.  "I kept thinking, where's the wire?" Espinoza said, referring to the slipping saddle. "It wasn't coming fast enough."

Just beyond the wire.  The cinch far beyond Chrome's barrel where it belongs.

For Chrome the future holds several more races all pointing to the Breeder's Cup Classic in October and then retirement at Taylor Made Farm in Kentucky.   Thus far California Chrome has won 12 of 21 starts with only five races out of the money, so when retirement comes it will be a well earned one. Well earned indeed.

Every Picture Tells A Story, Don't It?**

I don't usually search the web for photos, but this one, recently downloaded from msn.com, caught my eye.  It captures two of the things I care most about: horses/animals and art.

You may hear the percussive thunder of hooves on a race course surface.  To you, music.  I see legs like brooding leafless trees in a winter forest and the shoes, fleeting headlight reflections on a rain slick road.  Scattered clods of dirt, here thick and heavy and there, thin and transparent, disturb the photo's angularity.  They are a kind of dissonance, like blood spatters on a wall.  In my eyes, art.

It's funny how you remember clearly things, important things to a child, that happened long ago, especially when those memories are about a favorite toy or a little boy's dog. When I was three or four years old I had a cur dog, chestnut and white in color, that lived under our hen house.  There is an old black and white picture of me, skinny and blonde, already a year or two in glasses, wearing faded bib overalls and no shirt standing next to Brownie in his run.  I think I was smiling in the picture, but then I always smiled when Brownie was around.

When the rabbits raided our garden at night they would taunt poor Brownie and he barked until he was hoarse, at least that's what the policeman told my dad. "Get rid of him or I'll shoot him," the cop said, and in those days he could have shot Brownie and gotten away with it too.  Mrs. Clark from across the railroad tracks had gotten her wish and my dad gave Brownie away.  

I don't ever remember hearing my Brownie barking in the night.  You know how soundly innocence rests. And somehow my dad gave Brownie away without my knowing.  I've carried Brownie around in my heart for many decades now and I hope to see him again one day.

My mother was a big, well, big for King's Mills High School anyway, band singer in the late '30's and early 40's.   And while she sang, she also doubled on bass and did it all while standing on a chair or a stool, or anything that was handy.  She was very short.  

Because of her there was always music in our house, on the radio mainly, and singing, although my tone deaf father remained blessedly quiet.  Because there was music, I've always sung, but after more than 100,000 cigarettes' (haven't smoked for more than 20 years) not as well as I once did.  Perhaps my memory is a just a little fuzzy about the quality of my singing..  

I was a normal kid for my time, baseball crazy and good at it too.  But I was shy and had a difficult time fitting in with the other kids.  So it didn't help my cause when mom enrolled me in tap dancing classes!  Ugh, I hated every minute of it and although dancing helped to make me faster, stronger and more coordinated than most of the other boys, it didn't matter to me, I still resented it.  I just wanted to be like everyone else.  Just a normal little boy.  I was the only boy in the dance class and it made me different, even more than my thick glasses already had.  You bet I resented it.

She redeemed herself though whenever there were "teacher in-service days."  For me it was a day away from the rigors of school.  Mom and I would take a trolly downtown to the Cincinnati Art Museum where I happily spent time with Picasso, John Singer Sargent, Egyptian history and wondered about whoever it was that wore that suit of gleaming armor.

McAlpin's department store had a tea room where mom and I would eat lunch after the museum.  I don't remember not ordering filet of sole with tartar sauce.  I didn't need the menu.

My youth is gone, so is McAlpin's Department Store and its tea room and so, sadly, is my mother.   What is left then is my love for animals and art in all their variety.  Oh, and I almost forgot, all of the memories.

Every picture tells a story, don't it?

** Wouldn't be quite right not to credit Rod Stewart with the title of this piece and the refrain from one of his best songs.

Copyright by Loren R. Schumacher, March 11, 2016

One Fine Day ( Part 1 )

Maybe the cool and distant reception our tour received at Winstar Farm had something to do with our bus driver squeezing into a place he shouldn't have and plowing into one of the large flower pots standing outside the door of the stallion complex.  Or, as it is in most companies, attitude is a reflection of ownership or management.  Giving the benefit of the doubt, I'll excuse Winstar and blame it on the youth of our tour guide, the marketing manager and her assistant.  There is more but I'll skip the details.

Winstar itself is a very young company, founded in 2000 with the acquisition of the 400 acre Prestonwood Farm by current owner Kenny Troutt and his partner.  The farm's history dates to the 1700's, then owned by the Williams family of Virginia.  Their bank barn and several other buildings remain and are on the National Historic Register.  Along with the purchase of Prestonwood came two sires: Kris S and Distorted Humor.  Before his death in 2002, Kris S sired 5 Breeder's Cup winners and 3 Eclipse Award winners.  Distorted Humor, foaled in 1993, remains an active sire to this day, commanding a six figure fee.  More about him later.

There are three viewing areas in the new stallion barn, 18 stalls, 2 breeding sheds and 22 three acre paddocks.  The first horse to be ushered into the viewing area was the incredible Tiznow, once both American Horse of the Year and California Horse of the Year.  He is the only back- to- back winner of the Breeder's Cup Classic and winner of $6.2 million dollars.

His progeny have won the Belmont, Travers Stakes, Dubai World Cup, Santa Anita Derby, the Wood Memorial and others.  My Sweet Addiction won the 2015 Vanity Stakes, Colonel John the Santa Anita Derby, Well Armed won the Dubai World Cup by a record 14 lengths and Da'Taro beat Big Brown in the 2008 Belmont.  It should be remembered that Big Brown finished dead last in the race for an unknown and still suspicious reason.  His trainer has had his license lifted in some states.

All of the photos taken at Winstar, with one exception, were taken in predominantly natural light under a dome in one of the viewing areas.  The light illuminates the best of the horses physical characteristics and if they were not elegant enough, well just take a look.

Tiznow, foaled in 1997

Tiznow ranks in the top 2% of sires by average earnings.

Still rowdy and sure of his supremacy, Tiznow.

Super Saver won the Kentucky Derby in 2010.  Just another big, fast bay horse, no not really, just the fulfillment of a lifetime dream to see a Derby winner up close.  And I was not disappointed.

Super Saver was sired by Maria's Mon who sired another Derby winner, Monarchos, the 2001 Derby champion.

Super Saver

Begging for a peppermint.

I'm exhausted, can't you see my tongue's hangin' out?

Super Saver is all man too, covering 165 mares in 2015.  His most notable achievement is as the sire of Runhappy, the 2015 sprint champion and winner of the 2015 Breeder's Cup sprint.  Runhappy posted a 113 Beyer speed figure in 2015.  Very fast.

Runhappy winning the 2015 Malibu Stakes with Gary Stevens up.

Runhappy looks like his sire Super Saver.

Pioneer of the Nile was a 2006 foal sired by Empire Maker x Star of Goshen by Lord of War (Arg ) and is now an up and coming third crop sire.  

His was a successful racing career finishing second to Mine That Bird in the 2009 Kentucky Derby with wins in the Santa Anita Derby, San Felipe Stakes and Robert B. Lewis Stakes as a three year old and the Cash Call Futurity G1 as a two year old.

Pioneer of the Nile, his groom and Stallion Manager Larry McGinnis in the background.

In Pioneer of the Nile's lineage are:  Empire Maker, Fappiano, Mr. Prospector and Northern Dancer on the top or sire side and Lord of War, Key to the Kingdom and Bold Ruler (Secretariat's Sire) on the bottom or dam side, but Winstar would like to introduce broodmares with Seattle Slew or Storm Cat (Sire of Empire Maker) breeding to his progeny.

Pioneer of the Nile

On October 26, his fee was $110,000.00 and five days later on Saturday it was raised to $125,000.00.  Why?  Because of this guy:

American Pharoah 

We may never in our lifetime see another horse like American Pharoah, record setter and winner of American horse racing's grand slam:  The Derby, The Preakness, The Belmont and The Breeder's Cup Classic.  Unlike many thoroughbreds, American Pharoah is not a brat, but a sweet and gentle champion.  My wife and I have tickets to Coolmore America, Ashford Stud to see AP on January 27th.  That's the good news.  The bad, we're not guaranteed to see him.  You pay your money and take your chances.

 Pioneer of the Nile appears to have the same sweet disposition as his son.  In the two pictures that follow he seems anxious for company.

Pioneer of the Nile at home.

The cleanliness and beauty of Pioneer's surroundings in the new stallion barn

Oddly, though we might have been able to pet Pioneer of the Nile, or at least be photographed near him, no one tried.  I will say that as we walked through the barn we were tightly shepherded by the stallion manager and other staff.  It was probably just as well.

Lane's End has AP Indy and Winstar has its own star, Distorted Humor, now 23 and still active in the breeding shed.  His 2016 fee, a mere $100,000.00  Why?   Because this smallish sire (15.3 hands) has sired over 130 stakes winners.  He has sired more G1 winners than all but two North American Sires. His progeny have won each of the Triple Crown races and he is a grandsire of a Kentucky Derby winner.  You'll recognize these names: Funny Cide, Commentator and Drosselmeyer, winners all. 

At the 2015 Keenland September sale a Distorted Humor colt sold for $1,525,000 to Goncalo Torrealba of Three Chimeys Farm.  

Distorted Humor's own race record of 8 wins, 5 places and 3 shows in 23 starts is an enviable one.  He was still winning at the advanced age of five.

Distorted Humor was not on display the day we visited Winstar, but wandering up and down the aisles I was able to get this picture, not the best, but interesting.

Distorted Humor behind bars.

You can see that there are bars preventing Distorted Humor from reaching outside his stall and nailing a passerby.  The hand on the right had just tapped on the piece where Distorted Humor is chewing on the bars.  Obviously he is a biter and best left to his leisure.  They can't all be Pioneer of the Nile.

While I love horse racing, I know that many people do not share my enthusiasm.  Horse racing has been its own worst enemy and deserves much of the criticism it has received.  But the industry has begun to clean up its act, even to the point of its concern for retired race horses.  Of course, the minor leagues of racing, the claimers, race on and on, I recently read of a retired race horse that had raced every two weeks for nine years without a break.  Nine years!  This is the type of abuse that has caused many, myself included, to question the industry and its neglect, mistreatment and its discarding of animals like chewing gum wrappers.  Still, there are unscrupulous trainers who watch their horses run until they cannot run anymore.  Let's not even talk of the drugs masking chronic injury, milkshaking tired or sore horses to reduce the lactic acid in their system and then there are the catastrophic injuries to consider.  But as long as two people have two fast cars, or two fast horses, they will race them and when they do, we have their beauty and grace to take our breath away.  It is the nature of man to answer a challenge and the nature of the thoroughbred to run.

Please see One Fine Day (Part 2) which follows.

Copyright January 15, 2016

All Photos by the author, Copyright, January 16, 2016 except Runhappy and American Pharoah in the public domain or Bloodhorse.com.