Horse Racing: A Hard Way to Make an Easy Living!

2012-01-03T14:32:00.003-05:00

A man of Falstaffian proportions, Arnold Kirkpatrick could be easily recognized by his mirth and his girth. And now, too soon, he is one with the earth.

Our first encounter , come to think about it, involved substantial portions of high class food and drink. Arnold was accompanied by master consignor Lee Eaton to Vancouver for the purpose of a seminar to enlighten a room full of Canadian breeders.

We basked in the summer sun whilst talking horses. I was assigned the task, if you could call it that, of giving Arnold a tour of that beautiful metropolis. Lee was a teetotaler, as was our Canadian host Mel McInnis, and they retired early.

Arnold and I touched all the bases. His favorite eatery was the English Bay

Cafe next to world famous Stanley Park . Their menu motto said "Waiter, there's a sunset in my soup" which Arnold thought was very clever.

Decades intervened before we next broke bread, this time in Lexington on Mardi Gras. The revelry was slow getting started until Arnold rounded up one and all at posh a la lucie.

A conga line was formed with Arnold on the lead. We went out the door circled the block and the merriment was rampant.

Did I mention that it was snowing at the time?

MIZZEN FAST

2011-12-05T22:21:00.002-05:00

Hollywood Derby winner Ultimate Eagle was the product of a mating

recommended by Dan Kenny Bloodstock. We had purchased a bloc of seasons to Mizzen Mast a few years ago when the young stallion was in a quiet time in his career, like many who start off strong and then wane while the market catches up with their talents.

In Mazzen Mast's situation it helped to know that Hall of Fame trainer Bobby Frankel would be promoting the horse and training some of his foals.

I recommended that trainer/pinhooker David Hanley purchase a season in Mizzen Mast for the Captain Bodget mare he owned in partnership with Ben Walden. The result was the rapidly improving Ultimate Eagle.

J. C. Davis profited by our advice about Mizzen Mast, too. We bought him the mare Zienat for only $7500 from Ken Ramsay and bred her to the grey son of Cozzene.

On the weekend, thaat colt won again at Hawthorne to bring his earnings $300,000 for midwest trainer Dale Bennett.

SMOKIN' JOE

2011-11-21T13:28:00.003-05:00

The death of heavyweight champion Joe Frazier was well chronicled in the boxing media.

There was another Joe Frazier, this one a Thoroughbred of some talent owned by Peter Fuller, owner of Dancer's Image, disqualified winner of the 1968 Kentucky Derby. Fuller managed a fighter named Tom McNeely who once got a longshot chance to meet Floyd Patterson for the heavyweight crown.

Joe Frazier (the horse) was purchased by New Orleans owner Albert Stall Sr. I had the good fortune to meet and interview Joe (the boxer) when his horse showed up to race at Fair Grounds. The horse proved good enough to satisfy Stall's quest for a "Saturday"

horse.

Stall Sr. later called me some years later and asked a favor. Could I try to persuade his son, Albert Jr., to give up his ambitions to become a trainer when he graduated in geology at LSU? No dice.

The younger Stall, you may remember, posted a pretty good TKO of his own with Blame in last year's Breeders' Cup.

Back to boxing. I never saw Frazier again but did have the thrill of watching Muhammad Ali train in Vancouver for a bout with Canadian George Chuvalo. For five bucks you could watch him work the heavy and speed bags and skip rope with the grace and power that set him apart.

Fuller bred another good one in Mom's Command and bred the jockey who rode her, daughter Abigail.

SHAW ENOUGH

2011-11-20T17:54:00.005-05:00

Longtime Canadian breeders Dick and Jo ellen Shaw were in Lexington during the Keeneland November sales, selling their last horse. After some four decades raising horses at their Glenview Farm west of Calgary the couple called it quits, more a function of age rather than any beef they might have with the the Thoroughbred scene.

Perseverance was never a problam for the duo. I learned that some decades ago when I phoned to congratulate them on a stakes win. It so happened that it was their first added money event after some 20 years of trying.

As sometimes happens, the Shaws then began to churn out high quality runners with David Bell training them at Woodbine. Bell also had horses in the barn for John Franks which is how I became involved. Bell trained the Canadian champion mare Woool00omooloo,

who gave Woodbine race caller Dan Loiselle a chance to dramatize her deep closer runs over the Ontario sod. I admired the pair's loyalty to trainer Bell over the years.

The Shaws represent all that's good in the "sport" of racing. We could wish to have a hundred more just like them.

DUNCAN MCTAVISH SHOWED FAITH IN ME

2011-06-23T13:19:00.006-04:00

Word has been received of the death of Duncan MacTavish in Ontario. Duncan was a longtime friend who helped launch my bloodstock career in the l970s at Hastings Park (nee Exhibition Park) in Vancouver.

Duncan was a character of the first order, dividing his time on the backstretch with a second calling, that of professional wrestler who managed to combine each pursuit because the track and the Pacific Coliseum were adjacent. It was not unusal to see Duncan race into the paddock still in his wrestling garb to saddle a runner.

Duncan mostly scuffled in each vocation and he had naught but a handful of cheap horses when we first met. He asked me to be on the lookout when I headed to Fair Grounds in New Orleans for the winter. His budget, he said, was $2,000. I was not about to complain because, to that point I had never actually closed a horse deal, relying on income from the Daily Racing Form. But I was just itching to get started and two grand was as good a place as any to start.

Down at Fair Grounds I noticed a 3-year-old filly named Sutter's Dream who won a straight maiden race by eight lengths. Next time out she bled profusely and did it again in her third start. The rules then dictated that she not race in Louisiana for six months.

Sutter's Dream was trained by a wily Cajun named Pete Leblanc and I came calling to his satellite barn at old Jefferson Downs. Two seasons in Vancouver convinced me that horses had rarely bled from the nostrils, given the more benign Canadian climate.

With Sutter's Dream in "jail" for six months maybe Leblanc would part with her for my $2000. When I told him my price he practically grabbed the money out of my hand while pronouncing me "the dumbest Yankee I ever met".

Duncan and I were in business. He left the filly in New Orleans until the probation was up and actually won a race for $1500 claiming at Jefferson Downs, rightly figuring that everyone would dismiss her as a known bleeder.

The win provided shipping money to Canada where Sutter's Dream reeled off victory after victory, marching up the claiming ladder. When Duncan nominated her to a local stakes the racing office bureaucrats refused her entry. She shipped to Alberta instead where she won a $50,000 stakes sponsored by a tobacco company. By year's end she was voted champion mare in Western Canada. If memory serves, I think Duncan began to beat up on guys in the ring, too.

Duncan packed her up and headed East to try his luck. We lost touch for a few years but he showed up whenever I worked a broadcast for Canadian television from Woodbine.

My association with such an unusual champion did not go unnoticed and others began to support my opinions that led to a most rewarding life as a bloodstock agent who also did journalism rather than other way round. Thanks Duncan. I will never forget you.

And Pete Leblanc? He swore that I was running a ringer.

2011-05-09T21:23:00.000-04:00

DOUBLE YOUR FUN

2011-05-03T22:20:00.003-04:00

While living in California I would host a Kentucky Derby gathering. In 1990, our party proved lucrative when Unbridled responded to trainer Carl Nafzger's memorable narration for Mrs. (I Love You) Genter.

In those days there were separate pools handling bets from remote outposts and one could never be sure what the final odds might be in your betting jurisdiction. Unbridled paid $23.60 at Churchill Downs but I was stunned to discover that our California tickets were worth double that amount.

Mister Frisky accounted for the discrepancy. Undefeated in l6 starts, Mister Frisky had Latin horseplayers in a frenzy after leaving his Puerto Rico home to win the Santa Anita Derby. Mister Frisky was trained by Laz Barrera of Affirmed fame and that only further expanded the Unbridled price even more. Mister Frisky was hammered down to 6-to-5 despite having lost considerable weight while reeling off his win streak.

Thousands of hombres wore a long face going home to the barrios. When it came time to cash in I discovered that our payoff in Santa Barbara was twice the size than the one in Louisville. Viva! Unbridled

After a brief tussle with my Jesuit upbringing about the proper distribution of the largesse (mine, all mine), I came home with the swag and a flourish and better champagne that we were used to drinking. Summer Squall and Pleasant Tap filled in a $800 or so payday in the trifecta.

2011-05-03T21:45:00.001-04:00

2011-05-02T23:42:00.002-04:00

O'KELLY TO THE RESCUE

2011-02-25T14:26:00.006-05:00

International racing and stallion shuttles have advanced from "wave of the future" to a new way of doing business. After decades of isolation South Africa wants in.

As an invitee to Cape Town's finest hour of sales and graded racing I was duly impressed by the quality of the runners and the enthusiasm of the 50,000 odd patrons who cheered them on.

Scotch distiller J&B sponsored the racing at Kenilworth, a world class facility a few miles from downtown Cape Town. "The Met" is contested over 10 furlongs of turf and was taken down this year with a gritty performance by 20-to-1 chance Past Master, a son of the prolific Jet Master. Jet Master is a grandson of Northern Dancer and he came to the fore in part by accident as happens on occasion in Thoroughbred breeding.

Jet Master was the subject of a difference of opinion between a husband and wife when sent through a yearling sale. The man did not wish to own the horse but the wife did. He put a $10,000 limit on the bidding, the wife went to $15,000 and secured the horse and he wouldn't speak to her for a week, so the story went on S. Africa television.

Jet Master won 17 of 24 starts to earn a chance at stud and he has flourished at distances from six to 10 furlongs.

TBA officials deemed the week a smashing success in the sales ring and at the track.

Hopes are high that administrative issues can be resolved soon that will reduce lengthy quarantines of up to 90 days trimmed to a fortnight. Horsemen there support creation of a $1-2 million US international race once protocols are in place to eliminate the scourge of African sleeping sickness.

The sale was a two day affair and most folks seemed optimistic about its maiden voyage in the indoor arena of a convention center. Close attention was paid to the progeny of Trippi, a bonafide success in America who figures to show his stuff early as a son of the speedy End Sweep, himself exported to good effect in Japan.

The bidding took some time to heat up but John O'Kelly arrived on the rostrum to show the way. The Brussels resident is a fixture at European auctions and I consider him the greatest showman cum salesman in the game. I was selling horses at Newmarket under our Four Star Sales banner when John continually pulled rabbits from hats.

On one occasion he plied bids from a trio of buyers, a Frenchman, an Argentine and an Englishman, all in their native tongue and without missing a beat. Whoever signed up O'Kelly ought to get a medal.

Past Master has been dominant sire for a number of years in S. Africa, accounting for no less than 31 yearlings catalogued at the sale put on for the first time by the Thoroughbed Breeders Association.

Golf great Gary Player had three by Jet Master and another by Fort Wood (sire of Horse Chestnut) in the sale. A regular visitor to Lexington over the years due to his passion for Thoroughbreds, he was not on the premises due to a golf commitment in Abu Dabhi.

A former Lexingtonian named Rachel Harrington looks after the Player yearlings.

A mare bred by Player won the last race on The Met card with a 6-year-old mare named Sangria Girl who captured the G II Reserve Stayer. The winner was sired by onetime US stallion Wolfhound who once stood at Lane's End in Kentucky

As we boarded the bus to leave I congratulated Rachel and berated myself that I had let a longshot get away. Enough J&B clouded my mind enough

to miss the fact that Sangria Girlwas 20-to-1

"All you had to do was ask,"said Rachel. " We won this race last year and had pointed her for this race."

The day concluded with some intramural festivities whereby a sizeable portion of the crowd doffs their kit (that's the way they talk) and sprint (if you could call it that) down the stretch to the winning post. Merciful darkness fell.

My travelling companion was Pam Parker, a noteworthy artist and photographer back in Seattle. We spent the next three days sampling the South African culture in 80 degree weather while the US was in a deep freeze. We puzzled over penguins walking along the beach in such heat. The horses were impressive, as was the wine, the food, the hospitality, mountains, beaches.

Some business was done. I made a fairly limp bid on Hip 126 because I used to own her kin Mille et Une. She brought $90,000 US.

Countryman Barry Irwin bought seven for his partners and Irish horsemen Ben McElroy bought a pair meant for Irish interests.

BELLE WATLING FOUND WANTING IN US DEBUT

2011-02-24T10:11:00.003-05:00

Belle Watling, who beat all comers in her native Chile, came a cropper when fourth at Gulfstream Park in The Very One stakes. The defeat came in her American debut.

South American form has held its own in recent years and buying agents have fanned out to scour the globe in search runners that can compete with the top internationalists.

There's an added bonus in the folks you meet along the way.

Belle Watling is a daughter of Dushyantor (Sadler's Wells) who was bred by the prolific Haras Matancilla of Carlos Hirmas. A few years ago I had the pleasure to spend a day with Sr. Hirmas.

Juveniles from Dushyantor's first crop were beginning to run and they demonstrated unexpected precocity. I remarked that he might anticipate great things as Dushyantor's

progeny began to stretch out to classic distances. He beamed at the suggestion which

came to fruition in the days ahead.

Sadly, Sr. Hirmas died several years ago and I am left with memories of that sun-drenched afternoon when we toured Matancilla. He spoke little English but Keeneland's Chauncy Morris proved an able translator. An elderly hidalgo might best describe Sr. Hirmas who for many years filled an outsized trophy room. It's hard to explain the feeling that I was in the presence of true greatness in lively pursuit of Thoroughbred achievement, culminating in the fabled Belle Watling.

Other unforgettable characters were encountered on that expedition. Marcel Zarour, the grande jefe of the Chilean Jockey Club, along with his charming wife Maria (better known as "Icha". Pedro Hurtado, Jose Gatica, Fernando Fantini, and German Fischer

became fast friends and clients.

In two weeks the Latino Americano race will be run at San Ysidro in Chile. One of the favorites, Casablanca Star, is a son of Dushyantor. I'll be thinking about Sr. Carlos.

2011-02-10T14:45:00.001-05:00

CLASS. PURE CLASS

2011-02-10T13:43:00.005-05:00

Once I was asked what was my favorite interview in a quarter century of televised Thoroughbred racing. The answer was easy. "Paul Mellon and Mack Miller after they won the Champagne at Belmont with Sea Hero,", I said.

It was with some trepidation that I awaited their entry to the winner's circle. I fretted during the two-minute commercial, wondering how I might connect with these titans of the turf.

I worried needlessly. The pair cavorted with joy, slapping hands and generally laughing it up. Our discussion was brief and to the point, mainly that the Kentucky Derby was the ultimate goal, which they annexed a few months hence.

The recent death of trainer Miller brought forth accolades from all who had the privilege to know him. He liked to wonder how he got so lucky.

"I really only had two jobs in my career. One was with Charles Engelhard (owner of Nijinsky). Engelhard was known to subsist on a diet of champagne and chocolate and suffered severe gout which forced him to use a cane when in his 40s".

Upon Engelhard's premature demise, Miller was hired by Yale man Paul Mellon.

Mellon already had an Epsom Derby under his belt with Mill Reef.

The universally loved Miller could do it all, having bought some mares from the Engelhard estate and raced them to win important races with longtime partner Smiser West.

Your correspondent got into the act with the purchase of the mare Song of Syria from West who went on to produce champion Chilukki for Canadian owner Norman McAllister.

Some of the Mack Miller magic must have rubbed off again when I bought a yearling Thunder Gulch filly named Tweedside for another Canadian, Eugene Melnyk. She went on to win Grade I races. As I signed the ticket I heard Smiser tell Mack, "gee, Mack I thought we'd get more than $l00,000".

CAPE TOWN SALE

2011-01-18T13:42:00.002-05:00

I take my show on the road to Cape Town for a new international yearling sale January 27-28. The excursion is designed to familiarize global players with South African bloodstock. Inquiries are welcomed.

HERE'S HOW IT'S DONE

2011-01-18T13:04:00.002-05:00

Jerry Hollendorf was basking in the glow of his latest Eclipse Award, well earned by Blind Luck, a few hours after Indian Winter captured the San Pedro Stakes at Santa Anita.

Indian Winter stalked a torrid pace to win twice from three starts. I bought him for a partnership organized by Hollendorfer at the OBS sale last March. When a young horse can attend such a scorching pace like that in the San Pedro one begins to wonder about stamina.

Not a worry I would think.

When I buy juveniles there is a lot of pedigree study executed before I even leave for the airport. I am seeking horses who distinguish themselves in the breezes; the third leg of the stool is a rapport with a reputable consigner who has shown he, or she, can produce runners.

Indian Winter qualifies on all counts. First, he is a half-brother to Gr. III winner Sindy With An S. She earns more points for having a stakes-horse by ordinary Five Star Day and a $119,000 earner by Johar.

The second dam did not win but her full-sister produced stakes horses by failed stallions like Dance Brightly and Acceptance. In these cases the credit invariably comes due to the female.

It really gets interesting in the third dam which boasts two-time champion Ashado and is replete with graded stakes horse like Sun River, Foresta, Victory USA and Saint Stephen.

Indian Winter is the third SW bought from Ciaran Dunne's Wavertree Stable. He bids fair to be the best of the lot in his trainer's talented hands.

NO BLAME, NO GAME

2011-01-17T22:42:00.004-05:00

They say you only hurt the ones you love. If that's true, then there was a lot of pain to be distributed at the Eclipse Awards. It was easy to love both Zenyatta and Blame on their merits.

My handicapper's mind had me choose Blame after a Breeders' Cup for the ages was decided in his favor. That point of view shifted when I realized that, while Blame may have been Horse of the Year for 2010, Zenyatta might make historians crown her as the Horse of the Century.

Blame can only enhance his reputation now through success as a stallion. The mare's exploits will be the stuff of lore regardless of her subsequent ability in the breeding shed.

When a filly named Regret became the first female winner of the Kentucky Derby in 1915 she was known forever after as "the only Regret". Who was second that year?

Who cares?

Man O'War and Secretariat dominated the twentieth century and verbal combat over who was better spilled over into the present day. Secretariat even got a movie.

Zenyata's Hollywood connections assure that she may soon star on the silver screen.

2011-01-06T12:03:00.004-05:00

"Records are made to be broken" is one of sport's hoary cliches that proves itself with some regularity. Ask Bret Favre, UConn basketball and Sunny Blossom. Sunny Blossom, you say?

In recent weeks a couple of team sport idols bit the dust while Sunny Blossom lost the distinction of Santa Anita's fastest sprinter since the l989 Palos Verde Handicap.

A snappy 1.07.1 was all that Sunny required to set a standard that lasted more than two decades. A highly touted juvenile named The Factor broke the previous time barrier.

Extenuating circumstances contributed to The Factor's suddenly newfound fame. First of all, there was no comparison between the racing conditions. The new champ showed his stuff over a Santa Anita strip that was posting absurd fractions in every race, at every call. That pattern became a habit in the early days of the Santa Anita meet, propelled by a souped up dirt track.

Second, Sunny made his mark in a graded stakes at the expense of arch-rival Olympic Prospect. The Factor was beating maiden juveniles.

Finally, a significant gap between running times convinced me that my hero had indeed demonstrated something exceptional. Horses were running in 1.11 on the 1989 card, for instance, a sign of a dead track. Everybody was flying around the Årcadia oval a few weeks ago.

Gary Stevens rode Sunny Blossom that fateful afternoon and he saw no need to even uncock his stick. "No one could have beaten me on that horse that day", he repeats whenever a little nostalgia surfaces.

Sunny could be a quirky ride. He had back troubles which probably accounted for the fact that he invariably broke slow enough to spot rivals a length or two. Once in gear, he would take the front and go as fast as he could go. He rarely ever changed leads during a race, another costly habit.

A more endearing attribute was winning the final leg of big money Pick-six wagers

at Bay Meadows and Golden Gate Fields.

While we no longer see his name on the program, Sunny Blossom will be a fond memory in years ahead.

2010-12-20T14:32:00.001-05:00

One of a Kind

2010-12-09T23:12:00.001-05:00

In 1968 I was golf editor of the New Orleans States-Item, fresh from an NCAA career uptown at Loyola University. I got a call one day from Larry McKinley, a popular disc jockey at a blues station, inviting me to play in a golf tournament at Pontchartrain Park.

When I showed up it was apparent that I was the only Caucasian in the field. I was informed by Larry that white golfers avoided Pontchartrain Park rather than play alongside black players in the midst of the civil rights movement.

After hitting off the first tee I was approached by a member of our group who said "hey, white boy, do you want to play for some cash".

If memory serves, we agreed on a $5 Nassau or so and were nip-and-tuck in the match when a torrential storm rolled in from the lake and flooded the course. Sunday's round was cancelled also and the only action to be found was at the various dice games that ensued.

Some months later I headed North to try my luck at tournament at golf. I became just another dew sweeping, trunk slamming impecunious rabbit who hastened back to journalism.

And I never met Joe Bartholomew, more's the pity.

KNOCK 'EM DEAD

2010-10-06T12:56:00.002-04:00

Galen May liked to gamble and it may have cost him his life. A key man in trainer Jerry Hollendorfer's organization, Galen was entrusted with Kentucky Oaks winner Blind Luck at Churchill Downs.

Galen was semi-retired after a life on the racetrack but Jerry would call on him whenever he needed a seasoned hand to prepare a horse for a big race until he could arrive on the scene. I got to know him from his frequent trips to Kentucky on behalf of Hollendorfer. He was a quiet and friendly man.

After Blind Luck's epic victory in the Oaks Galen returned to his California home.

Police arrested a neighbor of May's and charged him with murder. The motive was said to be robbery. Galen was a regular patron of a casino near Sacramento and the killer may have known his routine.

There is a sense of danger that pervades a gambling site, one of the few remaining businesses dealing in "cold cash".

I can recall several other big scores that resulted in homicide.

Fair Grounds had begun to offer the exacta as part of its wagering menu in 1969. There was an exacta only on the last race each day.

One day there was a lot of hooplah coming from the clubhouse bar. A regular had hit for big money in the last race exacta. A boisterous impromptu party broke out among a group of clubhouse regulars.

I drove home to my apartment on Esplanade in the French Quarter and thought nothing of it until I read the morning paper account of a murder victim who had been robbed of his winnings on the Fair Grounds exacta. He was shot in the carport of his apartment about a half-mile from where I lived on Esplanade.

I was at Hollywood Park one day when another steady high roller hit a Pick-Six for $40,000 and crowed about it enough to alert everybody in the park.

An assailant followed him down Century Boulevard towards the airport. The victim turned into the portico of a luxury hotel where he was shot dead. A gust of wind began to blow the money away and the thief could grab only a small amount. The scene sounded like the finale of "Treasure of Sierra Madre" when Humphrey Bogart watched his gold dust disappear in a sand storm.

The unlucky horse player drove a Jaguar with a vanity license that read YRU POOR.

Moral of the Story: If you hit a big lick it's best to keep it to yourself.

RESTITUTION NOT RETRIBUTION

2010-09-09T12:29:00.003-04:00

Jockey Patrick Valenzuela has been blessed over the years with a certain bonhomie that, no matter how many times he has burned the racing population, there's a tendency to consider his misdeeds as "victimless".

I don't think so.

Patrick burned me and my Santa Barbara Stable partners but good by failing to keep his engagement aboard our horse Sunny Blossom in the Frank DeFrancis Memorial. The DeFrancis was the richest sprint in the country, other than the Breeders' Cup ,with a $300,000 purse.

Sunny Blossom was capable of six furlongs in 1.07.1, a Santa Anita record which still stands. It made sense to take him to Baltimore in hopes of upsetting champion Housebuster.

A number of our partners made the trip to Maryland, excited to take on the best eastern sprinters. The Kesslers from Seattle; the Caligiuris from New York and Santa Barbara; the Koenigs from Los Angeles; Nick Ben-Meir from Beverly Hills; Bob Estrin from Hollywood and various extended family boosters were all on hand.

Patrick was due to take the "red-eye" from Los Angeles which would give him plenty of time to prepare for the race. Despite calls to the hotel there was no word from our jockey. An hour before the race he finally called the stewards and claimed to be sick.

We had to scramble for the best jock we could find, namely Edgar Prado who was tops in Maryland but a far cry from the household word he was to become. His English skills were limited.

In the confusion in the paddock our trainer failed to give the word to Prado that Sunny Blossom did not like to be whipped, nor did he want to change leads so there was no point in trying to make him change.

Housebuster went to the front and never looked back. In deep stretch it was apparent that Sunny Blossom could not win. To my horror I watched as the substitute jockey whacked our horse a number of times as if he was trying to get him to change leads. You could see him swerve to try and escape the left handed stick.

Sunny Blossom exited the race dead lame in the stifle and did not run again for many months.

The partners on hand had spent tens of thousands of dollars in order to attend one of the nation's top races and came away with nothing but a sour taste and an injured horse.

Pat Valenzuela? Not a peep out of him.

I am not interested in retribution after all these years. But there is something called restitution and I challenge Pat to make good on his many indiscretions and donate a significant sum to the Winner's Foundation.

You're making money now. Ten grand ought to do it.

2010-08-27T13:07:00.000-04:00

GOODWOOD GOOD WILL

2010-08-27T12:41:00.006-04:00

Recently we posted a piece on how to address European dignitaries often encountered in the course of our equine wanderings. Most such meetings are usually cursory and formal at best..

And then there's Charlie, the Duke of Richmond and master of Glorious Goodwood, in the family for seven centuries or so.

Charlie, you say? A bit cheeky, that.

Hardly.

Our Four Stars Sales team sent over a draft of yearlings in 2003 to try our luck in the Tattersalls lucrative Newmarket vendue. We were advised to put on a splashy show to make the toffs aware of our imminent arrival in the UK, sort of a Paul Revere ride in reverse.

Goodwood was chosen as the site for this soiree and we complied with champion jockey Steve Cauthen in tow as media bait. Our entourage was whisked to the Duke's private quarters for champagne after the running of the Duke of Richmond Stakes.

I asked the Duke what he liked to be called , not having quaffed bubbly with a real duke before.

"You might call me Duke, or even Your Grace or just plain Charlie. Just don't call me anything bad," he said with a chuckle. We had a high old time sipping on the Duke's good champagne while he regaled his visitors with tales of Goodwood.

Goodwood had been a sponsor along with Oak Tree at Santa Anita with a home-and-home stakes offering which is now in jeopardy with the Santa Anita turmoil.

I hope I can find my way back to Goodwood one day and look up my buddy Charlie.

MINDING THE STORE

2010-08-14T09:31:00.002-04:00

Sharp Secretary continues to shine among Woodbine's 3-year-old fillies. She smartly scampered away from a good field to annex the $150,000 Duchess stakes on August 7.

Several television commentators have noted that she was bought for only $1,100.

True enough. But we paid out $25,000 last spring to acquire her as a 2-year-old.

She has made everybody look good.

Highly regarded juvenile Western Mood regressed in the Best Pal stakes at Del Mar, finishing third.

JUDDMONTE HONORS FRANKEL

2010-08-14T09:14:00.002-04:00

Prince Khalid of Juddmonte Farm evidently picked out a good one to honor his longtime trainer, Bobby Frankel. The Galileo colt he named Frankel won decisively on the weekend at Newmarket.

Please excuse us if we throw out a couple more Frankel tales.

One concerns a horse named Mehmet, one of Bobby's first good stakes-winners to go to stud. When it came time to dole out a breeding right or a syndicate share as promised, Bobby hit the roof. He said that would never happen to him again and he included a clause in future training agreements granting him such perquisites.

One of those future stakes-winners was Missionary Ridge who won the inaugural Pacific Classic at Del Mar after being purchased from Robert Sangster by Canadian Peter Wall.

When Wall first signed on with Bobby he was told how he could expect to know when they would be running.

"You have lots of money," he said. "Buy a racing form".

A DEL MAR TALE

2010-07-27T22:28:00.005-04:00

This is a Del Mar story. Actually, it is a Bobby Frankel story that happens to take place at Del Mar.

In the summer of 1983 the first horse I ever bred was ready to race at Hollywood Park.

My trainer of choice was Bobby Frankel. I was a little daunted by his gruff demeanor but I was looking for a trainer who was a consistent winner with any kind of horse. I wasn't even sure he'd want to take on a British Columbia-bred maiden claimer named Bold Runaway .

I had only one request of Frankel: Let me know if we can win a bet.

"Maybe, maybe not," he told me when we met in the paddock at Hollywood Park. I took that as a "no" and made only a modest wager of support rather than conviction.

We ran second.

Three weeks later we were at Del Mar where terse instructions told me "bet your money".

My life at that time was embroiled in an unpleasant and costly divorce. My two children joined me for the trek from Santa Barbara. I was so sure that Bold Runaway would win that I plunked down a four-figure win bet. Not very clever, I realize, to drive a horse's odds down to 6-t0-5 on the nose. But I had blind faith in Frankel at that time and I needed a winner to boost my morale as well as that of Shannon and Josh.

Bold Runaway walked her beat under Martin Pedroza and,

after cashing my tickets, we went back to the barn to bid her adieu before the long ride home. To my dismay what I saw was my filly walking lame.

On the way out of the barn I bumped into Bobby. "Did you see your filly?

" he said, smiling.

"I think she's gone lame," I said. "Please have the vet look her over."

He muttered something to himself that sounded like "everybody's a trainer these days" and strode away.

The next morning, however, Bobby was on the phone with news that Bold Runaway had indeed suffered a slab fracture of her knee. The news was not unexpected so I paused, wondering what to do next, when Bobby asked what I planned to do with her.

"I'm not sure," I said. "Try to find her a good home."

"Would you take fifteen for her?" he said.

By that time I did not know if he meant fifteen hundred, fifteen thousand or fifteen cents. I knew enough about horse dealing to not make the first bid.

"I have a season to the top quarter horse stallion in America,"he explained. "I'll give you $15,000 for your filly and breed her."

Since I figured she was worth $1000, tops, I jumped at the offer while, at the same time, wondering which of us was loco. The sharpest guy in racing overpaying tenfold for a filly with no pedigree and a broken knee.

Bobby knew of my domestic disorder and seemed charmed by Shannon and Josh as only 5 and 10-year-olds can do. For years I wondered what his motive for that gesture represented. I didn't bring it up, perhaps in fear that he might want the money back.

Many years later I was in a group of horsemen, Frankel among them,

kibitzing at a Saratoga charity function. A couple glasses of wine loosened my tongue and I told the story for the first time outside my immediate family.

"Why, Bobby, why"? I asked.

He just smiled.

SPEIGHTS TO THE HEIGHTS

2010-07-26T14:39:00.004-04:00

Somebody had to be second last Saturday in the Lady's Secret at Monmouth Park.

Queen Martha didn't scare Rachel Alexandra much but a tidy sum of $80,000 was more than worth the effort. The dam of Queen Martha was the good stakes producer' Cryptoqueen which I had purchased for John Franks some years back. She was a well-made yearling but a touch on the small side. I paid $22,000 for her but she was one of those fillies who did not grow much and thus had a modest racing career.Bred to the home stallion Lucky North, Cryptoqueen produced the very good stakes mare Clearly A Queen.

Our handiwork was evident in various quarters of late. Two brilliant juveniles surfaced, Wine Police and Roxy Gap, both by the surging third-year stallion Speightstown which yours truly bought as a $2million yearling. Furthermore, I purchased the dam of Roxy Gap (the stakes-placed Harts Gap) and sold the dam of Wine Police under the Four Star Sales banner.

Another Speightstown rising star is Jersey-based Spiteful Gypsy. I sold the dam, SW Leo's Gypsy Dancer for the Purse Strings Stable, a conglomerate of 17 women from Louisville. I earned my 5 % on that occasion I can assure you.

If this sounds a bit self-serving that's because it is. Remember: it's not bragging if you can do it. When you are ready to step back into the fray keep that in mind.

STRAWBERRY FIELDS

2010-07-26T12:36:00.005-04:00

Canadians consider Strawberry Morn as one of the finest racemares ever seen in the Western province of British Columbia. The benchmark for greatness in that remote locale is to head South to take on the high class mares at Santa Anita, Hollywood Park and Del Mar.

I played a cameo role in arranging Strawberry Morn's transfer to the barn of Jenine Sahadi. She placed in a few starts, including a stakes at Hollywood, but she was clearly over the top by then and was sent to be bred to Awesome Again

and sold in the November Sale at Keeneland.

Strawberry Morn's run of success ran out the very night before she was due to be sold.

I received a call at 3 a.m. from a night watchman that the mare was in the process of aborting her foal. A bitter blow to be sure.

There was further melodrama in Strawberry Morn's life which we need not elaborate at this time (a partnership gone sour). Like many hard raced mares, Strawberry Morn needed a bit of time to reproduce her best foals.

The mare wended her way to Europe and gained international notice when her daughter Strawberrydaiquiri won a Group race at Royal Ascot for trainer Sir Michael Stoute.

"I SAW THE LIGHT"

2010-07-24T19:35:00.007-04:00

There's an undefeated 3-year-old in Northern California named Goggles McCoy who will move into California-bred stakes soon at Del Mar for trainer Steve Sherman. Another Goggles McCoy rode races in the 1930s. A journeyman rider of no great distinction, McCoy will be remembered, if at all, as the jockey who invented goggles.

I met the two-legged "Goggles" when assigned to do a story on him when I covered the races for a New Orleans daily in 1968.

"It was a matter of self-preservation," I recall him saying. "I got tired of getting whacked in the face on muddy days at Fair Grounds. You just couldn't see through the mud and neither could the other riders. It was plumb dangerous.

"The other jocks were skeptical at first but it wasn't long before they were all wearing them, too".

Sometimes it's the little things that matter.

MAKING THE GRADE

2010-07-22T21:32:00.003-04:00

A flurry of victory has a number of my clients smiling in a dreary horse environment.

In recent weeks there's been the continued progress made by juvenile colt Western Mood. He overcame a tardy break from the gate to register at first asking at Hollywood Park. Then he staged a ferocious battle against odds-on J. J.'s Gusto before dropping a neck decision in the Grade 3 Hollywood Juvenile. Western Mood has worked well in the weeks since and figures to battle J.J.'s Gusto in Del Mar juvenile stakes. What irony in the fact that our Four Star Sales company is the seller of J. J.'s Gusto. So let's root for a dead-heat!

He was a $50,000 2-year-old plucked from the March OBS sale in Florida.

Another OBS March aquisition in top form is the 3-year-old Lion's Story who made good in allowance company at Del Mark. The son of Wildcat Heir moved his career earnings to $116,220 and kept clean his record of never missing a check while paying a handsome dividend on his $50,000 price tag.

Softly Singing, yet another OBS graduate, won three of her first four starts and might have added another had the rider not dropped the ship at a pivotal juncture. The Holy Bull filly acts as if there's a stakes in her future.

Another good Canadian-bred winner is Audzeezee who has a developmental pattern that shows never worse than third in seven starts. I found her at a sale in Washington for a measly $18,000 and bought her as agent for Canuck Ted Smith who raced the brilliant Santa Anita sprinter Remarkably Easy some years back.

On the other end of the spectrum is the blazing fast Woodbine 3-year-old filly Sharp Secretary. She passed through a Kentucky sales ring for a paltry $1,100 yearling price.

Eight months later I forked over $25,000 of my best friend's money to acquire the daughter of Cactus Ridge. She whipped her Canadian foes in 1.09.10 under a Patrick Husbands hand ride. She'll be tackling stakes company in her next engagement, having already banked some $134,000.

Juveniles who won first out, in addition to Western Mood, are Given Episode and Ammunition. Given Episode appears the most forward at this time, having whipped Hollywood opposition in :58 flat.

WHAT'S IN A NAME?

2010-07-07T10:01:00.007-04:00

The recent running of the Queen's Plate brought to mind my first appearance as a commentator for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) on that nation's richest and most coveted event.

On that occasion the royal family was represented by the Queen Mother. The TV team was briefed on protocol should we be spoken to by the Queen Mother.

The producer assumed that I was a Canadian citizen. She was surprised to learn that I was an American in Canada that allowed me to work. I told her that I was not entirely comfortable with the bowing and curtsying that Canadians love to shower on what are called "The Royals'.

I decided to behave myself, figuring the odds were pretty high that she would wish to come and speak to me in Woodbine's leafy walking ring. During a two-minute commercial break I began to sweat as the Queen Mother headed in my direction.

Just in time she stopped to chat with jockey Ken Skinner who had the mount on longshot Market Control for Kinghaven Farm. "I'm going to back your horse," she told Skinner and ambled off to watch him win at boxcars.

This year it was the reigning monarch, Queen Elizabeth II who attended and received vigorous applause from her subjects. Another head of state that I encountered in a happy winner's circle was Sheik Mohammed bin Rashid al Maktoum. He had just won the Irish Derby with the great filly Balanchine.He was known around the world as simply Sheik Mohammed who can play the game in blue jeans and a T-shirt in Kentucky or a morning suit and top hat at Royal Ascot.

As I exited the Curragh I noticed a tall woman, regal in bearing, and greeted her as a fellow American-Mrs. Jean Kennedy Smith, the US ambassador to Ireland and sister to President John F. Kennedy. I couldn't help but think that high station in life doesn't grant immunity from life's woes.

The Aga Khan (make that H.H. Aga Khan as in His Highness) races with great success wherever he goes but he keeps a low profile when when he wins a big race. His breeding operation is second to none and I would love to talk breeding patterns with him. But I'm still not sure about this HH business.

The late Joe Taylor once drove me through a field of about 50 mares owned by the Aga Khan, boarded at Taylor Made farm, most of them grey as I remember.

On this side of the Atlantic, I was questioned from time to time why I addressed my main client, John Franks, simply as John while most called him Mr. Franks. I said that I was 47-years-old when we met, hardly a novice at this game and that we had terrific success right from the start. There were camp followers aplenty around him who adopted an obsequious demeanor with an eye on his pocket book more than proper etiquette.

And then there was the ecumenical duo of Prince Khalid of Juddmonte and Bobby Frankel. "Bobby called him Prince Khalid" said Juddmonte manager Garrett O'Rourke. "But not very often. They spoke about twice a year."

WHAT'S IN A NAME?

2010-07-07T09:49:00.001-04:00

2010-07-07T09:42:00.000-04:00

2010-07-05T13:49:00.001-04:00

speightstown at stud

Mervyn LeRoy

2010-06-15T11:37:00.000-04:00

While Kentucky Derby fever swept the land in recent weeks there were stakes contests honoring the memory of two of the most disparate characters that you could imagine.

Mervyn LeRoy liked to spend his time as the head man at Hollywood Park when he wasn't making films like the immortal "Wizard of Oz".

Allen Lacombe ruled the Fair Grounds press box where, on any given day, he might be promoting a boxing match and presiding over a crawfish race down at the finish line.

I had the opportunity to interview LeRoy in 1969 during the Thoroughbred Racing Association convention in New Orleans. E.P. Taylor and Wilie Shoemaker had already kindly consented to suffer a cub turf writer. LeRoy proved just as gracious.

After a brief chat he asked if I had any tips for him to bet. My selection was a horse named Easy Lime, ridden by a jockey named Esteban Medina who was new in town, having migrated from Agua Caliente race track in Tijuana.

"Medina!" LeRoy fairly shouted. "He's my favorite jockey whenever I go to Caliente".

So we bet and Easy Lime wins. I'd never met a Hollywood mogul before and it was something to see his excitement stoked so much by a $9.00 winner. While taking his leave he issued an invitation to drop in any time I might be near Hollywood Park.

Allen Lacombe conferred the moniker ("Black Cat") on himself as the result of a losing streak that began when he dropped out of school. He had to hustle to make ends meet in the rough-and-tumble neighborhood known as the Irish Channel, hard by the Mississippi River docks.

Allen never met a favorite he couldn't bet and the shorter the price the better. The inevitable punishment this policy dished out left him undaunted. In fact, the only times I saw him really upset was when he cashed a bet, a situation rectified as soon as the next chalk struggled home.
I decided to leave it to Freud or Jung to figure what that was all about.

Unlike Hollywood swells, the Cat hung out with people named Hard Times, Pickle Nose Willy,Chew Tobacco Sam, Eatin' Pete...you get the picture.

Hard Times was a Nom de Tout whose real name was Earl Vince. He was a survivor as a jockey on the West Virginia leaky roof circuits. The Cat kept him around because he might hit one occasionally. When Hard Times ran cold the Cat would retract his press box sandwich credential.

The Cat had other friends on the dole and he looked the other way as the press box began to resemble "The Grapes of Wrath". Hard Times had a daughter who owned a beauty shop near the track and she would give him a double sawbuck every Saturday with which to try his luck.

LeRoy was as good as his word when I showed up for my first look at Hollywood Park a decade later. He set me up with a champagne lunch. I began to wonder if it was a case of mistaken identity. By then I had graduated to Daily Racing Form columnist and, in those days, The Form carried a lot of weight as America's only national daily devoted to picking winners. A decade or so later I was hired to serve as host on Hollypark's nightly recap. Another movie guy, Howard Koch, also helped my career on its way.

The Cat's tragicomedy might have come from the pen of Tennessee Williams (who resided a mile or so from Fair Grounds in the French Quarter) but I witnessed his antics both puzzled and amused.

I often tagged alone with The Cat because you never what might happen next. One night we took a launch out to an ocean-going vessel in the Mississippi where we dined with the Argentine ambassador. Another jaunt came l25 miles downriver to board the USS Tirinte, a WW II era submarine. We dove twice during the lengthy sailing...Ah ooga, Ah ooga came the siren which gave you 60 seconds or so to "clear the bridge" or you were going to get wet. Years later I saw the Tirante on a popular TV show of the time, The Silent Service. The Tirante crew was heavily decorated for having penetrated Tokyo Harbor during the war..

About 40 years ago I rode a camel in a race at halftime of the NFL Saints. Beat national jockey champion Larry Snyder.

Mervyn LeRoy richly deserved to have a graded race in his honor.

Allan (The Black Cat) Lacombe and his crew may have had more run.

HURRICANE IKE BRINGS GRAEME HALL REDEMPTION AT CHURCHILL

2010-05-19T16:51:00.000-04:00

The late, great Daily Racing Form columnist Charles Hatton was fond of saying that "the place you lost it is the place you get it back." Hurricane Ike brought some Churchill Downs redemption to Graeme Hall by winning the Derby Trial in authoritative fashion. Trainer John Sadler had him poised for a run in the Preakness before he was sent to the sidelines for repairs.

IN THE BEGINNING

2010-05-19T16:50:00.001-04:00

In the beginning there was Graeme Hall. The chestnut son of Dehere was the first three-year-old sent out by trainer Todd Pletcher in quest of Kentucky Derby glory. Twenty-seven more attempts would be made before Todd and his WinStar cohorts would sniff the roses.

Graeme Hall loved a wet track and he got one in no undertain terms while winning the Arkansas Derby at Oaklawn Park. Thunder and lightning wracked Hot Springs for hours right up to post-time.

I assumed that we would end up waiting out the storm but owner Eugene Melnyk was in a hurry to return to his home in Barbados. His pilot tried to assure us that it would not be unsafe and we would fly above the storm in a matter of minutes. Todd and I and my friend Diane were to be dropped off in Louisville.

Bad call. The thunder and lightning showed no sign of abating and the private jet bounced through a phenomenon known as St. Elmo's Fire. It felt like we were seated inside a giant firecracker. Prayers to St. Elmo went unanswered as we careened through the sky like an airborne ship of fools.

It turned out that the pilot was right. What seemed an eternity was l0 minutes or so and Eugene was rightfully excited about the great victory.

"On to the Derby," he announced with a great grin of anticipation.

It would have been a good time for me to keep my mouth shut but I guess that is just not my
nature.

I suggested that there might be alternatives to racing Graeme Hall in the Kentucky Derby against the likes of favorite Fusiachi Pegasus and More Than Ready, also trained by Pletcher.

Graeme Hall was a light-bodied sort who gave his all when racing and needed plenty of recovery time after a race. He figured to be a big price in the Derby and a hard race might send him to the sidelines and miss the rich summer races.

My advice found a frosty reception. Todd even questioned my reasoning.

"How can you tell a man who won a major prep that his horse doesn't belong in the Kentucky Derby?, he said.

So, off we go to Churchill Downs and Graeme Hall lays an egg, dead last at 46-to-1.

My cell phone rings. It's Eugene and he wants a cover story right away. I call Todd at his barn where he tends to fourth place finisher More Than Ready.

"Your turn," I say to Todd. Next day it's reported that Graeme Hall has "flipped his palate" and that explains his poor effort. Did he really? I didn't ask.
A happy post script to the Derby was the great job Todd performed in getting Graeme Hall to win the Jim Dandy three months later. He had some ankle troubles that kept him out of the Travers.

At four, Todd sent him out to win a Grade 2 stakes and added a Grade 1 second in the Cigar Mile to Pletcher's brilliant but ill-fated Left Bank.

Graeme Hall is now the leading sire in Florida. Imagine what career he may have had if only
he had skipped the Derby.

AFTER A FASHION

2010-05-17T12:51:00.001-04:00

Warm spring weather arrived in Central Kentucky the other day. Exercise riders began to doff excess garb, thus revealing previously hidden "epidermal art". It makes one wonder if the only ones making money at the track these days are those who wield the tattoo tools. The recipients of these inky fashion statements, or should we describe them as victims, are not moving up in class a whole lot. The French have a derogatory word for this attitude, "deshabille'.

STAR SHOOT STAKES

2010-05-13T18:55:00.001-04:00

It's been said before that the best deals are often ones that you don't make. Case in point with the recent Star Shoot Stakes at Woodbine, won by Brereton Jones homebred Biofuel. Jones tried to sell the Stormin Fever at auction but found no takers and brought her home. A fellow came along later and said that he was prepared to pay the $20,000 reserve price set by Jones. He had only to confirm the deal with a partner.

A day or so later the man admitted that he could not close on the transaction due to his partner's backing away. Jones took the filly back home and put her in training last year as a 2-year-old.
You guessed it, she went on to be named champion juvenile in Canada and her brilliant win in her 2010 debut bodes well for further glories.

Second in the Star Shoot was a Cactus Ridge filly which I purchased for Canadian owner Dan Robb, a former golf pro turned Vancouver businessman. After an l8 month search I found a filly for him that would fill the best. I heard about her from the consummate horseman and trader Roy Coffee of Lexington, KY. Roy is known for his keen eye to find prospects for improvement at all levels. His motto for his Blind Faith Farm is "Horses bought and sold daily".

In this instance I need a two-hour ride to Lebanon, KY to inspect a lovely black filly who worked a quarter mile over a three furlong training track. Roy had bought the filly for $1,200 at a Fasig-Tipton sale and I forked over $25,000 of Mr. Robb's money, content that I had found the one I could recommend without reservation.
She's earned some $100,000 and has a bright future.

A good horse, like gold, is where you find it. I have beaten the bushes and worked the backwaters of the Thoroughbred world for some four decades now. That's what makes this fun.

DERBY DRESSCODE

2010-05-10T22:26:00.000-04:00

When noted thoroughbred artist Pamela Parker called Churchill Downs to inquire about a dress code on Kentucky Derby she was told:

“Wear a wetsuit!”

2010-03-31T17:18:00.000-04:00

Nary a horse ran a furlong in :09.4 in the March Ocala Breeders Sales of two -year-olds in training this spring. That compares to 10 such burning up the track moves at this same sale a year ago. Common sense moderation seemed to rule the day.

There is something about California speed that takes over when consignors cross the Rockies. Four horses raced in :9.4 at Barretts and another matched that during the Fasig-Tipton Texas sale. It looks a bit loony to scorch the earth that way, especially in view of the dismal performance record of previous hot-doggers.

Gone Fishin’ proved a useful horse after putting up that time on the Keeneland turf.

But between that Dogwood Stable horse and the outlandish Green Monkey there were any number of speedballs whose best day was the date they were sold.

Maybe I’m biased because we topped the inaugural Barretts sale in 1989 with a Roberto colt who had the stands buzzing when he worked an eighth in, get this, :11.

When I am buying at juvenile sales I give such horses a wide berth while in search for prospects that do not need re-education camp after such an injudicious breeze.

SMOKE GETS IN YOUR EYES

Just getting back home from the sales was a bit tense a few weeks back. The Atlanta-Lexington puddle jumper was full up as usual when two burly inebriates plopped down in front of my season. Soon after takeoff one decided to light up a Marlboro and puffed away.

The flight attendant (Delta) handled the situation professionally, having taken the offending butt and quietly letting the pilots know what was going on. I kept a watchful eye on smoker No. One (the other guy passed out) in case there was trouble.

Law enforcement officers met the plane and removed the nicotine fiend without incident.Police interviewed me but never did follow up on the incident to news media.

The whole episode got me thinking...the Transportation Safety Authority will confiscate 3 ounces of water but allows passengers who have flammable lighter fluid in their possession. What sense does that make?

Former Kentucky first lady (and Miss America) Phyllis George was also a passenger on that flight. If there’s ever a senior tour for onetime Miss Americas she could still compete.

JUVENILE BEHAVIOR

2010-03-25T22:39:00.001-04:00

Juvenile sales are in full stride at this writing. Your correspondent is shipping out with the morning tide (actually in an airplane) to do battle with the Somali pirates (pinhookers) who patrol the Florida shores in search of booty. Me, I’ll settle for a decent horse or two that’s worth the money.

The combat is not quite that bad but a whiff of piracy will always pervade the 2-year-old markets. It’s a mug’s game when seven figure prices can be extracted from gullible owners who think the difference of a fifth of a second can separate the men from the boys. The Green Monkey will not be forgotten for a long, long time and he was purchased by one of the smartest teams in the business.

There always seems to be a new angle at such sales. In their formative days juvenile sales served as liquidity for leftover stock that could not cut it in a yearling vendue.
A fast work was necessary to show a profit.

Sellers were fond of adding as much equipment to the horse as there was room for.
Shadow rolls were on almost every steed. Flesh colored blinkers were applied universally in hopes that the audience mighty not notice. Whips, sometimes even spurs were used to coerce one more tick of the clock.

The advent of high definition video means that attentive buyers would have ample opportunity to see the horses in a more natural state.

In vogue the past decade is the spread of “galloping out”. Most of this is a bogus attempt to sound like you have more horse than you do. Riders are now evidently ordered to stay down and milk another furlong out of their mounts.

As you might imagine, there are widely varied unofficial times reported . Some enterprising observers have taken to selling the product of their “gallop outs”.

Some of these guys couldn’t time a 3-minute egg yet they find believers ready to part with cash in hopes of having an edge.

I must confess that I would never be brave enough to see one of my horses exposed to injury by an unfamiliar furlong on the clubhouse turn.

A proper gallop out is highly desirable-I call it “natural gas”-when a horse is reaching out with no encouragement from the pilot. Those are the rare ones you want to pay attention to.

I’ve been doing this for decades and I developed some formulas that have produced some 40 stakes winners headed by Grade I winners Harmony Lodge, Bishop Court Hill and major winner Tricky Trevor.

It helps to be able to handicap the sellers. Make it a habit to deal with men and women who have proven they can turn out a sound horse.

You might want to have me on your side when it comes to buying an auction 2-year-old.

FINDERS KEEPERS

2010-03-25T22:37:00.000-04:00

When Congaree was retired to stud after a brilliant racing career Stonerside manager John Adger commissioned me to round up a few mares that would complement the stallion.

I went straightaway to Toronto and came back with three Canadian stakes winners with a capital outlay of roughly $l00,000 for the trio (perhaps a little less with the currency differential).

Early returns indicate that our knack for finding top value in mares continues unabated.
The threesome of Brattothecore, La Grande Mamma and Leading Role earned a composite $l million from 62 starts in their racing days.

Soundness was the dominant theme of our search on behalf of Bob and Janice McNair.
Congaree’s fore legs were suspect, to say the least, and one could only ferret out lively prospective mates and hope. Canadian racing is conducted without analgesic nostrums such as Bute so it stands to reason that horses capable of stakes wins have displayed sufficient rigor to overcome some limitations in the sire’s makeup. Pretty elementary reasoning but it had worked splendidly a few years before when we helped launch the career of Canadian stallion Archers Bay.

Bratttothecore got off the blocks first when her City Zip colt named City Style won a stakes in Louisiana and followed it up with a placing in the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile Turf. He is now in Dubai with the Darley population which was included in the Stonerside sale of its entire Thoroughbred investment.

La Grande Mamma produced a Congaree colt named Kettle River who won back-to-back races at Santa Anita and Hollywood, in the process earning a berth in the weekend’s Sham Stakes. He faltered in that salty spot but is a horse that bears watching in the second tier three-year-old races.

Leading Role was placed in the Stonerside Texas program and has a couple of foals that are considered promising.

Our handiwork showed up in other venues from Los Angeles to Miami to Barbados in recent days. Sweet Vale is the dam of Sterwins who took the Barbados Gold Cup. I recommended the purchase of Sweet Vale who did not stand training after three starts.
She has outdone herself as a producer.

Bickerson has Canadian antecedents, too. Winner of Gulfstream Park’s Forward Gal stakes, her second dam is Lil Ol’ Gal who I happened to buy for a friend in my fledgling role as caretaker for the British Columbia stallion Bold Laddie.

Lil Ol’ Gal was about l4.2 hands, hence the name, but lightning fast. She broke the world record for 3 1/2 furlongs first time out. I bought her back for a healthy buck as a 4-year-old for John Franks and she went on to win the Ontario Fashion Stakes at Woodbine. The diminutive mare was a favorite of Franks’ broodmare band.
At Santa Anita, Harris Farm’s Red Sun ran his record to four wins in five starts. I bought her dam (by Affirmed) for Franks although she became one that got away during one of his periodic dispersals. Her four stakes horses have run out $1 million or so.

SIC TRANSIT GLORIA

2009-12-17T14:58:00.001-05:00

Everyone seems to have a Tiger Woods story nowadays. This one is PG-13 so you can tell it to your kids.

In the spring of 1982 I was living on a small ranch in Central California. I had just been hired by ESPN to do the first live show of 4 1/2 hours from Churchill Downs on Kentucky Derby day.

Our producer was Scotty Connell, a NBC-Sports executive who had signed up with the fledgling cable network. Jim Simpson, Lou Palmer and I did the commentary.

Connell noted my California address and told me that he had signed up Sandy Koufax as a baseball announcer for NBC but it hadn’t worked out. Sandy was too private a person, he said, for network television.

Sandy lived a mile or so down River Road from my place near Templeton. Los Alamitos owner Ed Allred had a quarter horse ranch across the road from Rio Vista, a one time bustling stallion operation run by the Dollase family. Cardiff Stud was another neighbor.

Connell arranged an introduction to Sandy and we became fast friends who played late Sunday afternoon rounds at the Chalk Mountain muni in Atascadero. Sandy had recently left the Paso Robles country club, fed up with a wicked duck hook that shot his handicap up from scratch into double figures.

Chalk Mountain suited our purposes because we could play quickly and in complete privacy, a must for Sandy. We would have one beer afterward, never two, and baseball was not to be discussed.

One Sunday afternoon was different. The pro checked us in at the double-wide trailer that served as his shop.

“Take time to watch the kid on the practice tee,” he said. “You’ll be hearing from him one day.”

One swing was all it took for a 6-year-old to reveal himself as Tiger Woods, having a lesson with his father Earl. We watched him hit a few balls in silence and duly noted the

incipient talent which was already causing a buzz in California junior golf circles.

Next time I saw Tiger he was winning the 1997 Masters by 12 shots. Sandy and I bumped into each other less frequently after moving farther south to Santa Barbara.

Sad to see his name listed a year ago among victims of swindler Bernie Madoff.

Into every life some rain must fall.

GONE WITH THE WINDFIELDS

2009-12-17T12:18:00.001-05:00

Lost amidst the fuss about the Overbrook Farm dispersal at Keeneland was the whimpered final dissolution of the Windfields Farm of Ontario, Canada. There’s a certain irony in the fact that Overbrook owed its success to Storm Cat, a descendant of Windfields’ immortal Northern Dancer.

My one and only face-to-face meeting with Windfields founder E.P. Taylor came in the spring of 1970 during the annual convention of the Thoroughbred Racing Association in New Orleans. I was the a cub reporter for the local daily and set out to Fair Grounds to arrange an interview with the most powerful man in Canadian racing circles, and soon the world.

Taylor was a bit abrupt when I approached with my request.

“What do you want to talk to me about ?” he said somewhat gruffly.

“I’d like to hear your thoughts on whether Nijinsky can win the 2000 Guineas and perhaps the Triple Crown,” I said.

“Pull up a chair,” he commanded.

His demeanor shifted at once and he was at his voluble best for the next hour or so, extolling the virtues of his champion 2-year-old until he was called to a meeting.

Nijinsky went on to sweep the arduous English Triple Crown, a feat unmatched in the intervening four decades.

Meanwhile, I moved to the West Coast of Canada and was setting up shop for a bloodstock career, augmented with print and broadcast work.

Taylor had a friend in the whisky business in Vancouver who sought his counsel. Capt. Potter was his name and he needed someone to help run a training center which he had gotten stuck with by some shady characters.

Mr. Taylor told him to give me a call. I was flabberbgasted.

Soon thereafter I was track announcer for Capt. Potter at his hastily conceived quarter horse track called Meadow Creek Ranch. That and other Meadow Creek duties hastened my learning curve considerably.

Taylor and Northern Dancer went on to conquer the world. Taylor had a confidant in Joe Thomas who ran the Canadian operation, abetted by British agent George Blackwell.

Soon the entire Thoroughbred universe was awash in Northern Dancer blood. The Windfields team decided that they needed some new strains to infuse their broodmare band.

Chosen were two winners of the English Derby, Snow Knight and Master Willie. Both of them rolled “snake eyes”.

Snow Knight was an unfortunate choice in that he was a notorious rogue who needed a small army of assistant starters and a long buggy whip just to enter the starting gate. Horses that ill-mannered rarely succeed at stud.

Master Willie sired horses unsuitable for racing in North America and was soon forgotten.

The vagaries of Thoroughbred breeding were demonstrated anew at Windfields, only this time on a positive note. The full brothers Viceregal and Vice Regent entered stud at the Oshawa, Ontario nursery.

Viceregal bred books of mares that befit a juvenile champion. His brother had to content himself with the overflow.

Vice Regent became a leading sire, of course, while his illustrious kin was exiled to France where he faded into obscurity.

Over the years I have had the pleasure and privilege of seeing the great stallions in person. Except for Northern Dancer, more’s the pity

2009-12-14T11:26:00.000-05:00

The Thoroughbred world lost a charming character with the passing in October of Pennsylvanian Bert Linder. He was 93.

We crossed paths first at Saratoga during the 1998 Fasig-Tipton sale. I had been contracted to buy some yearlings for a flashy new player from Canada. One of my tenets in helping a rookie get started safely was to buy well-made fillies from deep families. If the filly can’t run much you have a chance to get your money back if some kinfolk show up and flesh out a prominent family.

That’s why I was sitting ready when Bert’s Tabasco Cat filly entered the auction ring as Hip #1. She was a real beauty and I thought we had booted the opening kick-off in style, buying her for $330,000. Before I could sign the ticket Bert was right there thanking me for buying the chestnut filly. He had a one-horse consignment so the day’s work was successful and cause for celebration. He hied his way to the bar while I worked my way through the bidding list.

The Tabasco filly turned out to be not particularly athletic so trainer Todd Pletcher and I recommended that the filly (named Ellesmere) seek some black type at Fort Erie, across the Niagara River from Buffalo, NY. She placed in a stakes as expected and was soon after retired to be bred.

Linder had gained an international reputation for raising top horses at his farm near Scranton. That’s coal country-anthracite or “hard” coal as opposed to the bituminous “soft” variety found in western PA where I spent my formative years. If a Pennsylvania school boy can spell both kinds of coal it is said that he can get into Penn State. Others end up at Slippery Rock.

Ellesmere’s second foal turned out to be a multiple stakes-winner and Keeneland track record holder. This fall she had out the Breeders’ Cup juvenile turf second in Bridgetown, who captured the Summer Stakes at Woodbine

Tabasco Cat proved to be less than North American breeders expected and he was shipped to Japan in short order.

These days Scranton is noted mainly for spawning Vice-President Joe Biden which may or may not be a good thing to know, depending on political persuasion. Secretary of State Clinton also claims Scranton relatives.

Be that as it may, the Linder legacy bred true to the very end.

PALSY WALSY 2.0

2009-12-08T14:09:00.000-05:00

During one of my “writer’s block” episodes I was told by one of my few regular readers

to come up with some new material. “I’m tired of reading about Palsy Walsy,” said Padraig Campion, squire of Blandford Stud.

Sorry, Padraig, but I couldn,t help but notice that Palsy Walsy shows up prominently in the pedigree of that great Japanese mare Vodka, winner over colts in the recent Japan Cup.

Palsy Walsy is the second dam of Rousillon, sire of Tanino Sister, in turn the dam of Vodka.

Now that I’ve brought you up to date on one of my favorite mares I promise to generate some more lively fare during the grey wintry fortnight when the Thoroughbreds take their rest.

A REALLY WILD TALE

2009-11-05T12:05:00.003-05:00

Vince Timphony was frantic. His exercise rider was nowhere to be found and the track would soon be closed to training. He needed a rider to give Wild Again a final stiff workout in the days leading up to the inaugural running of the Breeders’ Cup Classic.

He asked me to help him find a rider. I pointed down the shedrow of Barn 64 at Hollywood Park and told him that Jose Martinez might be his man. We all knew each other from our days at Fair Grounds in New Orleans.

Jose was galloping for Laz Barrera at the time and was glad to oblige an old acquaintance.

Vince told Jose that he needed to rouse Wild Again who was the type of horse who needed some handling.

“Give him a good seven-eighths”, said Vince. “But, for god’s sake don’t hit him with the whip. He hates it.”

I hung around to watch as part of my duties in the television department was to deliver as much fresh information as I could gather for use of the media hordes. It occured to me at that moment to wonder why Vince did not just take the whip away if it was not going to be utilized.

We took up an observation post on the balcony behind the track kitchen, opposite the five furlong pole. Jose broke Wild Again off at the seven-eighths pole and he went the first half mile in the most excruciating fractions I had ever witnessed. Jose did his best to shake him up, to no avail.

Wild Again and Jose trudged along until Jose ran out of patience. When they reached mid-stretch Jose reached down and smacked Wild Again. He practically skidded to a stop and came up short of a full seven furlongs. Luckily, I thought, there was nobody around to witness the debacle.

Surely that must have ended any chance that Wild Again’s camp would pony up a $360,000 fee to join the field in such a star-studded field. After all, his previous race was a feeble effort to be third in a Bay Meadows turf face.

With such a prohibitive buy in no sane player would risk it on what would return less than 4-to-1. Or would they?

Well, they would. The fee was paid and the Wild Again crew went to betting on race day. I kept looking for the guys in the little white coats to come and haul them to a sanitarium.

TVG showed reruns of the 1984 BC Classic the other day and it reminded me that Pat Day’s ride was one of the greatest horsebacking achievements of all time. Sent away at 32-to-1, Wild Again led virtually all the way. When accosted first by Slew O’ Gold and then Gate Dancer the champion qualities of horse and rider were revealed.

Wild Again was beneficiary of a trademark hand ride, Day keeping the whip uncocked the entire journey until the fateful joust in the shadow of the wire. At that critical juncture Day slapped him with a few backhand flicks of the whip and prevailed.

When I watched the tape again I noticed none other than Jose Martinez smiling at the cameras in the winner’s circle. He looked relieved that he was not tar-and-feathered after the incongruous “workout”.

It was not a happy ending for me. I felt that Gate Dancer could not lose and I would have doubled my wager coming past the eighth pole. Gate Dancer was a notorious bad actor who liked to lug in. He had the perfect partner in Laffit Pincay Jr. who, it was said, could “keep an elephant from a peanut”.

I plunked down my $2000 announcing fee on the nose. It serves me right for betting on a nutcase who needs earmuffs to compete.

While I was licking my wounds the Wild Again party celebrated long into the night. Tales of a trunk full of cash won at the windows grew into the stuff of legend as years went by.

If you told me a tale like that I wouldn’t believe it. Certain things in life we are just not meant to understand

AWOL

2009-11-02T20:03:00.000-05:00

Let’s see now, where were we? One disgruntled patron said he was sick of reading about Palsy Walsy. Other members of my entourage were less gentle in demanding some more product. Oh well, if you think this is easy, try it sometime. I can handle the literary, grammar and spelling departments but the damnable technology required is often more than I can bear. Taj Mahal sang about his face in a ” permanent frown” which he cured with a “cakewalk into town”. Me, I’m just plain grumpy. Maybe it’s because I have the only teenagers in town who can’t solve my tech woes in a matter of seconds.

Breeders’ Cup week seems a likely place to resume. First, though, let me shamelessly tout the upcoming sales.

Weanlings has never been my game in a big way but I am compelled to tell your that the last three freshmen I purchased earned $l.2 million after being acquired for $5l,500.

Bernie Madoff should hang up such numbers! A horse named Paradise Dancer led the way, earning some $600,000 from a $l0,000 purchase at Keeneland. And he’s still

winning down in Florida.

Fourth Floor was another overachiever, raking in $341,000 while plying the Chicago circuit. He was a son of the rather obscure California sire Robannier which is why we were able to buy him for a paltry $3,700.

Buy the individual, not the page, has long been our motto. Cat’s Career disappointed in the main, showing once again that even a speedy son of Mr. Prospector is vulnerable to the vagaries of the stallion business. His daughter Galatea Cat was so good looking that I just had to have her. Methinks it was the Storm Cat dam Sambra who supplied the competitive zeal as Galatea Cat won some $280,000 on a $38,000 buy in.

Oh yeah, both Galatea Cat and Fourth Floor were raced in partnership with a Chicago outfit named Bank-Katz Stable. The Katz partner paid his bills on time but Sandy Bank still owes me a healthy amount. Beware if you happen to meet this lowlife.

Now I’m grumpy again. The Breeders’ Cup stuff will have to wait.

BIG BROTHER, BIG SISTER

2009-07-31T18:17:00.001-04:00

Generally speaking it not a good idea to go back and buy a sibling to a good horse you have had in your stable. Remember that Mrs. Sullivan had 12 sons but only one John L.

But sometimes you just have to be right for the wrong season, in the words of Edward G. Robinson to Steve McQueen’s Cincinnati Kid in the great poker movie of the same name.

I struck paydirt when I spent $52,000 of Jerry Hollendorfer’s money to purchase Trickey Trevor who went on to win more than $700,000 as a Grade 2 performer.

A few years later his half-sister appeared in the March Sale at OBS (Ocala). She turned in a sparkling work, was by the very good stallion Montbrook and bred by a trustworthy outfit in Mike Farrell’s Ocala Stud.

The price seemed right at $95,000 and we bought her. Not long ago she won the Alameda Handicap at Pleasant and boosted her earnings past $180,000 and perhaps that sum again in breeding value.

On another occasion our flexible approach paid off handsomely. Graeme Hall cost $200,000 at Keeneland September and proved himself by winning the Arkansas Derby and Jim Dandy at three. The son of Dehere made seven figures at the races with Todd Pletcher and is standing with some success in Florida.

Graeme Hall was followed by a robust chestnut filly who was offered for sale at the Calder 2-year-old sale. The filly was a daughter of Hennessy and her breezes at Calder made us determined to buy her.

We weren’t the only ones watching, of course, and went to $l,650,000 to secure the eventual Grade 1 winner her for the Melnyk Stable who raced Graeme Hall, fighting off an equally determined Demi O’Byrne.

Demi accosted Pletcher and I after that bidding duel and said, only half kidding, that “you’ll not outbid me again”. He was right but not without a heroic effort on our part.

We locked horns later that day over who would own Yonaguska. Once again price reached the stratosphere whenever a combination of looks, speed and pedigree showed up in the sales ring. We made a $1,950,000 bid on Yonaguska only to be topped by a $25,000 bid.

PALSY WALSY

2009-07-27T16:03:00.003-04:00

Sharp Cat
In Neon

Sharp Cat was in the news again the other day when her 3-year-old son Extra Sharp won by many lengths in his second start at Monmouth.

That unlocked another bank of memories regarding Broodmare of the Year In Neon, who was the dam of Sharp Cat, who won l5 races, seven of them Grade 1 events.

It is a twice told tale by now how I came to successfully lobby John Franks to purchase In Neon who was carrying the Storm Cat filly in utero. There are other angles to the purchase and subsequent dispersal of Sharp Cat that have not been revealed.

The saga began way back in the 1960s when a claimer named Palsy Walsy was fast becoming my favorite horse. It was a wet summer and the caddy yard was filled with ambitious lads with time on their hands hoping to “catch a loop” when the Sunnybrook Golf Club in suburban Philadelphia eventually dried out enough to play.

In the meantime, some of the older fellows studied the racing entries for Atlantic City Racecourse. Palsy Walsy caught my eye because he loved the mud and won repeatedly. My racing bankroll began to surpass what the caddy yard could produce.

Fast forward a decade or so and I am a budding racetracker plying my trade in “Beautiful British Columbia” as the license plates would have it. Exhibition Park was a long way from Atlantic City but there was no finer city than Vancouver and there was not a lot of competition among bloodstock agents. I was pretty much it, largely due to some national exposure commenting on CBC-TV shows coast-to-coast.

A sportsman named Pat Ballentine asked for my assistance in securing a 3-year-old colt to run in stakes at Ex Park, now known as Hastings Park. He had been approached to buy a prospect named Captain’s Party and my job was to analyze his Woodbine form and pedigree.

And what do you know? Captain’s Party is none other than a son of Palsy Walsy. Talk about your “no brainers”! Palsy Walsy and mud in a town with 40 inches of rain a year.

Sign me up.

Captain’s Party did his job and won a number of stakes for Ballentine.

Palsy Walsy was doing her job, too. She produced a good California stakes-winner in Shamara and she, in turn, produced In Neon.

A few years later another Vancouver owner named Peter Redekop sent me to the May 2-year-old sale at Barretts in Pomona, CA with instructions to “buy the fastest in the sale.”

The fastest horse is easy to spot. He’s another son of In Neon, by Al Nasr. He works brilliantly but there’s a catch...he has a club foot. I report that fact and the potential buyer asks “what’s a club foot”?

I tell him what I know, that it’s not a big deal if managed properly. My man is gunshy and decides to pass.

The consignor is Lev Fanning who touts his brother Jerry on the horse who goes on to win $807,000 named Star Recruit.

I moved to Kentucky in 1993 and go to the November Keeneland Sale to check out In Neon once again. I do not have a buyer because I think she is going to bring half a million and don’t try to hustle up a buyer.

In Neon leaves the ring unsold with a last price of $l60,000. Quickly I seek out Californian Meryl Ann Tanz and ask what is her bottom dollar.

“Two hundred thousand and not a penny less,” she avers. Agents hover about trying to make a deal while I head straight to the telephone exchange and ring up Franks.

He demands to know why I expect him to pay $200,000 when the market has rejected the mare at under $l60,000.

“ I know this family,” I tell him. “This has already produced a major stakes-winner by a failed sire. What if you get a good looking Storm Cat foal. This mare would then be worth a fortune.”

“OK, go buy her,” he said.

What I did not tell him is that In Neon is perhaps the ugliest mare I have ever seen.

That’s why no one would bid high on her in the ring. I was quite likely the only person in that Keeneland sale ring who had been closely involved in the evolution of a successful family for thirty years.

The Storm Cat filly arrives and I am full of anticipation as I venture out to see her in her first week of life. Not too bad, I think. Plenty of leg and length, well muscled. But her right knee is rotated out pretty good. She’ll need time.

The following summer Franks decides to cull back hundreds of his horses. In general, we tried to cut from the bottom and keep the better stock.

We have a meeting in his Shreveport office with the Fasig-Tipton staff. They want to sell the Storm Cat filly and I am adamant that he keep her to race. He tells us that he can enter the filly and keep her if she doesn’t sell well.

Come dispersal day and another meeting is held with the auctioneers to set reserves. I suggest a reserve of $l50,000: Franks lowers it to $125,000. I am disappointed but the worse was yet to come.

I am on the auction stand reading the pedigrees. Sharp Cat is in the ring and the bidding is sluggish. The phone rings. From a back office Franks asks if the $82,000 bid is live money.

“Yes sir, it is,” I tell him. “ Mr. and Mrs. Rogers made the bid from the right side of the ring”.

“I’m in a selling mood”, he says. “Sell her”’.

The rest, as they say, is history.

At a post-sale meeting the mood is flat. Franks asked how I thought we made out.

“Not too bad,” I said. “But I’m afraid that you will one day wish you had not sold the In Neon filly.”

The Rogers turned $82K into $400,000 when they sold her at Saragota to Rick Porter.

Porter sold her as a 2-year-old for $900,000. Thoroughbred Corporation won $2 million at the races. Darley bought her for millions more.

GOOD THINKING

2009-07-27T15:50:00.004-04:00

Sometimes common sense plus a little deductive reasoning can be enough in making a satisfactory horse deal.

An acquaintance of mine landed a stakes filly just that way some years ago. Spectacular Bid was terrorizing Flying Paster and all comers at Santa Anita in the winter of Bid’s 4-year-old career.

Buddy Delp trained Bid along with the rest of a string sent West from his Maryland home. Dr. Ken Walters was a Vancouver dentist who dabbled with a few runners at Exhibition Park.

He had a hunch that Delp might not be too fussy about his other horses while he tended to the media circus surrounding the “best horse ever to look through a bridle”.

So he was ready to pounce when he spotted a filly by Silent Screen in the entries for a paltry $20,000 maiden claimer at Santa Anita. The filly’s name was Happy Feet, out of a Northern Dancer mare named Danceful. Danceful was out of a half-sister to the dam

five-time Horse of the Year Kelso. That’s a lot of pedigree muscle for twenty grand!

Happy Feet won that afternoon and became a stakes-winner in Canada later on and became a distinguished producer with15 foals and 14 of them raced and won.

Some years later Dr. Walters ran afoul of Canada’s tax department and had to sell his horses pronto to satisfy the authorities. A package deal of five horses was on offer and I jumped on the first plane to look them over. The price was right and I took all five, hoping to resell four and keep Happy Feet out of admiration for her ability and soundness.

I sold three horses in short order and made a reasonable profit. The one remaining was a smallish filly by an unheralded sire named Brunswick. I knew this one might be a tough sale because she had one pretty crooked leg to go along with her petite body.

But I got behind this filly, having observed her combative nature-a trait she inherited from Happy Feet- and a way of outrunning a paddock full of yearlings.

My sales pitch failed and we were packing up to bring the Brunswick filly back home when John Franks rang and asked if we had any RNAs he should consider.

I mentioned the Happy Feet filly and said that I would take $5,000 for her. He readily agreed on the deal and he sent her off to Woodbine-based trainer David Bell. David is a patient trainer of the old school and he was fired more than once by Franks for being too slow bringing them to the races.

Not this time. The filly named Screen Happy won $337,805 from 2 to 5. I got a pat on the back from the boss.

I got one foal for myself out of Happy Feet, a robust colt by Skip Away that I named Chipper Skipper (get it?). Trainer Bobby Barnett called from Churchill Downs one stormy fall day and said that we had a real shot to win in a maiden route race under the Twin Spires.

The late Luke Kruytbosch and I were friends from having worked televised races together in Western Canada. I mentioned he horse to him and we each cashed when Chipper Skipper closed about 20 lengths to get up in the last stride at 20-to-1. Luke's call of the race rivalled the way he would announce the Kentucky Derby.

Wednesday at Belmont trainer Tom Bush unveiled a first time starter named Screen Saviour a daughter of Screen Happy who won impressively. I sat in the Keeneland Equestrian Room and pondered whether to bet at nearly 9-to-1. Instead I stood pat.

Reverie can be expensive sometimes.

Happy Feet, may your tribe continue to increase!

GOOD THINGS COME TO THOSE WHO WAIT

2009-07-25T17:08:00.000-04:00

A major league baseball general manager named Frank Lane used to say that the best trade is often the one that you don’t make.

That motto certainly applied to the chain of events which led to the purchase of champion sprinter Speightstown. I was buying yearlings at the 1999 Keeneland July Sale on behalf of Canadian newcomer Eugene Melnyk. He liked his advisers to name a horse each day that he “must have”. I nominated a colt by Gone West out of a champion mare in Canada named Silken Cat (Hip 185).

Melnyk rang up from his home in Barbados with instructions to bid on Hip 167, a Gone West filly out of stakes-winner Miraloma. She was not especially striking physically but the filly figured to draw some action with a star-studded family that included sprint champions Gold Beauty and Dayjur. Worth maybe a million, I figured.

Spirited bidding quickly drove the price up on 167 and I broke out in a sweat when Melynk said make it $2.7 million. Thank heavens a bid rang out at $2.8. “What do we do now?”asked the voice on the phone.”

“Get out of Dodge is what we do now,” I countered. “You have a horse coming in about a half-hour who really is worth $2 million. Forget about this one.”

Speightstown strolled in a few minutes later and was the cynosure of all eyes. Bidding was fierce once again and we managed to acquire the horse for $2 million. I have no doubt that we would not have had the green light for two multi-millionaire yearlings nearly back-to-back.

The Miraloma filly became an expensive dud who never raced while Speightstown’s value was north of $l0 million after his brilliant Breeders’ Cup Sprint cinched a championship for him, not to mention some $1.2 in purses.

Dividends continue to flow from Speightstown’s first crop which last week included four stakes-winners, including a Gr I in France, a Gr 2 in New York and two more in the US.
They run very fast, that’s a given, but they are winning in top company at a mile, on turf, on dirt, poly, you name it.

That’s how a professional bloodstock agent serves his client.

As for Frank Lane, I have still not forgiven him 50 years after he traded Rocky Colavito from the Cleveland Indians to the Detroit Tigers for Harvey Kuenn

TOUGH BEAT AT 66-TO-1

2009-07-25T17:07:00.001-04:00

The exploits of trainer Wesley Ward at Royal Ascot sparked still another trip down memory lane. Two decades earlier my good friend Pat Collins had sent a Canadian filly named Zadracarta to try her luck in the Group I Prix de L’abbaye which is contested on the Arc card at Longchamp.

It took some doing but Pat eventually convinced owner Steve Stavro to mix it up with the Paris swells.

I had a lot of confidence in Pat so I fished out a Canadian double sawbuck and asked him to put it on the nose. News did not travel quite so quickly in those days so it took 48 hours to discover that Zadracarta had led every step of the way until the last stride of the five furlong sprint. AT 66-TO-1!!

Pat was one of those unique characters that populate the world’s racing grounds and keep them lively. He left his native Ireland an orphan and arrived in Toronto with the literal shirt off his back. He was soon hired as an exercise rider but turns out he was stretching the truth a bit about that.

Next stop was the racing office and he somehow rose to the top job there in record time. A short stint as a bloodstock agent began just when a major recession slowed trade to a halt.

Pat was not the type to give up easily. He became a trainer and hooked up with Toronto grocery baron Stavro. Stavro was no dullard himself. He migrated to Canada from his native Macedonia and became the classic entrepreneur success, graduating from selling fruit on the street to ownership of the biggest food store chain in Ontario.

He was obsessed with Alexander The Great, a fellow Macedonian, and named many of his horses with a Macedonian theme. Zadracarta was an ancient Persian city conquered by Alexander.

Bold Ruckus sired Zadracarta and was dam sire of Ward’s Jealous Again who captured the Group 2 Queen Mary Stakes. Florida breeder Harold Plumley acquired Zadracarta from the Stavro estate. Coincidentally, he also bred Jealous Again from another Bold Ruckus mare named Chi Sa.

The first time I attended the Toronto yearling sale I was trying to buy one by Bold Ruckus. The first dozen or so I looked at were all back at the knee, a point which I raised with the consignor who also stood the stallion.

“You wouldn’t want one that wasn’t,” said he. From that moment on I relaxed and bought a number of very successful runners and broodmares from the tribe of Bold Ruckus.

My friendship with Pat dated back into the late l970s when he phoned me in Vancouver from Toronto just to tell me how much he liked a column I had written in Daily Racing Form. I had never heard of the guy but I made it a point to look him up in 1985 when I was hired by the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation to work the Rothman’s International (Gr. 1) at Woodbine, won by Southjet for Dogwood Stable and trainer Angel Penna Sr.

He was a boon companion until the tragic auto accident which claimed Pat’s life while he was in winter quarters at Payson Park in Florida almost 20 years ago.

BOO, SENATOR WILLIAMS

2009-07-25T17:06:00.000-04:00

California business man buys a Thoroughbred farm and two years later proposes to invest $70 million more in another venture in downtown Lexington. Once again this demonstrates the diverse ways in which horses drive our Kentucky economy.

Will potential investors be so ready to include Kentucky in their plans if the horse business is perceived to be in decline?

As for Sen. Williams, he responded with a proposal so inane, so empty handed, so empty headed that he will soon be the object of ridicule, not fear. His bloated sense of himself has become intolerable in a time of crisis for the entire state of Kentucky, not just the horse industry.

A Thoroughbred figures to outrun a stubborn mule every time. The groundswell seems to have shifted in our favor but there’s still a mountain to climb. Let’s be ready when we are called on for further action.

ROAD TO RICHES

2009-07-25T16:47:00.006-04:00

In Neon

Sharp Cat