by Mike Rogers
I jogged him back to the gap. Longshot's neck was arched and he literally bounced along. Lucero came up to me. He said, "Could you go any faster?"
"I was holding him back the whole time!"
Lucero sighed, "I know, but what a time, Sarah. Now everybody knows what kind of horse I have in my barn."
I hopped off and said, "You always had this type of horse in your barn."
"I wanted to keep him a secret!" he said in a hushed whisper. "I can't when you worked five furlongs in 58.88 seconds!"
Dumbfounded, I tried to speak, but could not find the words. Lucero, pleased that I was speechless, led the lightly breathing horse away. I continued to stand there until Harry called out, "Aren't you going to come ride Gambit?"
I came back to reality, and jumped on the horse. Lucero called out, "Just and easy gallop!" I made sure to do just that. While on my short break from riding, Gambit had raced twice and blown away the competition. We gracefully galloped around the track. Gambit oozed with confidence. Ten minutes later, he was being led of the track and my next ride was approaching.
Immediately, I recognized who it was. It was Countdown, who won the Kentucky Derby and Belmont Stakes. The bay son of Real Quiet and Fantastic Dear stared down at me. Even though only a month earlier, he had been going through the rigors of the Triple Crown, he was in good weight and beautifully muscled.
Lucero came over and said, "I want an easy mile in company with Star Gazer, over there. That shouldn't be too difficult.one other thing. In the last furlong, ease him in front about a half length to the wire."
I was then boosted up. After jogging up the track with Star Gazer, the other girl looked at me and said, "You ready?"
"Whenever you are." Simultaneously, we opened up into a slow gallop, and then a slow breeze at the mile marker. Amazingly, the Countdown just kept pace with the other horse. He wasn't fighting at all! When we entered the stretch, I shook up the reins, once. Suddenly, we were a length ahead. I took up the reins and his speed steadied. What amazed me was that he was so responsive! Anything I asked, he delivered. After we crossed the finish line, the Countdown easily pulled up.
Lucero came over and said, "You got a little far ahead in the stretch, but good job. It was just what he needed."
The rest of the workouts were a breeze. Afterwards, I had a whole day to myself because I wouldn't have any rides till next week. So I headed down to the barn and mucked stalls, for the lack of anything better to do.
* * *
Monday of the next week finally rolled around. I had three rides. When I arrived at the barn in he morning, Lucero made a beeline toward me. "Come into my office. I want to discuss today's rides."
When we entered the office, he gestured for me to take a seat. Taking a seat behind his desk he handed me a racing form. "Turn to page 30, the ungraded stakes race, the Nashua." He watched my face carefully.
After I reached the page, I read the description. All horses would carry 121 pounds go a mile and an eighth on the dirt. As I scanned the entries, one caught my attention. Longshot Jockey: Sarah Randall. Stunned I looked up at Lucero and then back at the Form. To the side, there was a paragraph evaluating Longshot.
Longshot, who is making his first start in four months, works his way into Stakes Company. Frank Lucero decided that after a pair of brilliant works that he belongs in this company. But, he hasn't won since last year, at a claiming price! Just from
looking at the stats, Longshot had no chance, even with the ungraded status.
"Well," I said, "He hasn't' been studying the workout sheets, has he?"
Lucero sighed, "You know very well that good workouts can mean nothing."
"I know." Then, we went on to discuss the other races I would be riding in that day.
* * *
Later on, I stood in the paddock of the Nashua Stakes. The crowd was huge! It was only while I was in the paddock for the first race did I realized that it was Del Mar Futurity day. I must admit that I was a little nervous. My fears were settled when I spotted Longshot. He was just full of energy. When the girth tightened, he gave a playful buck. As he started to walk around, Lucero came up to me.
He laughed, "Longshot's feeling his oats today. If you can stalk him just behind the leaders, that would be ideal. Just don't fight with him."
By this time, Longshot made his way back to us. Lucero boosted me up and patted my knee as we walked toward the tunnel. When we came out from the tunnel and hit the sun, Longshot's coat gleamed. He bowed his head and practically skipped across the track. If he had been competing in dressage, he would have earned top marks. Longshot warmed up wonderfully!
Then, we reached the gate. Longshot loaded quietly into post number five. Suddenly, he lunged forward. The gate attendant struggled to control him. Then, just as suddenly as he had acted, he calmed down. A second later, the gates sprang open and the bell tolled.
Longshot broke in stride, but the four and six horses squashed us back. I had to check him sharply. That placed us back in eighth place. Longshot regained his stride and started to advance, but ran up on the heels of the front group of horses. As I took a hold of him, he fought me. 'This is not going well,' I thought.
I wasn't sure if we were going to make it through the clubhouse turn. Somehow, we made it through and out luck changed. The number two horse on the outside drifted to the outside rail coming out of the turn. Longshot, without any urging from me, bulled through the hole. After just a couple of seconds, we were a length ahead. I allowed him to get a little further ahead, and then moved him closer to the rail. Even though there was still four furlongs to go, Longshot was still striding smoothly.
We coasted into the far turn two lengths behind the leaders. The front- runners were starting to drop back, but I saw the closers waiting in the wings. I kept Longshot tight against the rail. If they wanted to get by it would be on the outside. Flying by the three-furlong pole, I let him out another notch. His strides flattened and his neck stretched out for the ground. Glancing under my right shoulder, the favorite loomed menacingly, gaining with every stride. Longshot was just loafing as we entered the top of the stretch. The other horse was a half-length away. It was now that I shook up the reins. Underneath me I felt a gathering of power, and then an explosion. In just a couple of seconds, Longshot had breezed to a three-length advantage. As we galloped to the wire it continued to increase. Longshot crossed the wire ten lengths ahead in the time of 1:48.78. A superb time.
After the wire, I attempted to pull him up. Longshot fought me all the way around the first turn. Finally, I was able to pull him up. Ten minutes later, we entered the winner's circle. Lucero was smiling broadly as he talked with the owners.
Harry grabbed Longshot's reins, "Nice ride there! He barely broke into a sweat!" Then, it was time for the photo. Longshot posed perfectly, just like in his Breeder's Cup win photo. Once he heard the shutter click, he exploded into a bucking rampage. It was so unexpected, that I just flew over his head and into Lucero and the crowd of owners and friends. I landed in a heap right in the middle, knocking people down on the way. I staggered to my feet and helped people up, apologizing. They, in turn, just laughed.
I took off the saddle and went to weigh in. After that I headed into the jock's room to change. Twenty minutes later, I stepped into the sunshine. Numerous people came up and congratulated me. Since I didn't' have any more races that day, I headed over to Lucero's barn to see how Longshot was faring.
I turned the corner to the barn, to see Longshot rearing and bucking playfully as he was being walked around. It took Lucero and three other grooms to keep him on all fours. When Longshot spotted me, he dragged all four of them over to me. He calmed down and shoved his face under my arm.
Raising his eyebrows, Lucero said, "Why don't you walk him out?" I took the lead rope from him and Longshot plodded calmly behind. Lucero watched for a few minutes before walking away. The rest of the day was a breeze. After Longshot had cooled out, I gave him to his groom and started to walk o
ut.
Suddenly, I heard someone calling my name. I turned around to see Lucero running up. When he reached me, he said, "The owners are holding a party in honor of Longshot's win and I was wondering if you'd like to go. You were really the one to bring Longshot back to his old self."
"Sure, I'll go," I said smiling.
"Ok," he said, "I'll pick you up around seven at."
"Oh!" I said thinking, 'Where should I tell him to pick me up.' "Um. 501 Northgate Street." That was the address of my close friend Alice. I hoped that she would be able to help me tonight.
The first minute I had a chance, I called Alice. "Hi! What's up!" she said cheerfully. I quickly explained my predicament. "No problem. You can come over right away."
Chapter Six
Fifteen minutes later, I was standing in front of mirror, staring at myself in a beautiful silver dress. Alice said, "You look beautiful!"
"Are you sure this isn't too dressy?" I asked, looking worried.
"Absolutely not!" Alice said emphatically. "Not when you're going to a party at the Rogers!"
At exactly seven o'clock, the doorbell rang. I took a deep breath and opened the door. Lucero said, "Are you ready?" Nodding I walked out the door. He opened the passenger door of his red convertible and ushered me in.
* * *
Twenty minutes later we pulled into the long winding driveway of the Rogers. By this time, I was rather nervous. I'd never had to deal with such high society owners before. Suddenly, Lucero and I walked through the big double doors and into the greeting line. Mrs. Rogers smiled warmly at me.
"It's so nice to finally meet you," she said, shaking my hand. "You rode a beautiful race." Mr. Rogers greeted me the same way. Then, a butler escorted us to our seats near the head of the table. Apparently, we were the last guests to arrive. Mr. and Mrs. Rogers walked in and took their place beside me.
Shortly after, Mr. Rogers rose and clinked a fork on his glass. Everyone grew quiet. "Welcome to this wonderful celebration of Longshot's victory in the Nashua Stakes. Before we begin to ea, I would like to thank two very important people. First, Frank Lucero, who has done a wonderful training job. And secondly, Sarah Randall, who has brought the spark back into Longshot's gaze. That was beautiful riding today!" His clapped his hands, "Let's eat!"
Almost immediately, a group of waiters passed out the fist course, which was a salad. The meal seemed to take forever. I was stuffed by the time the dessert was taken away. I groaned to myself, 'How was I ever going to make weight the next day?'
Reading my mind, Lucero nudged me and said, "I guess you'll have to do a lot of dancing tonight."
Startled, I looked up and said, "Isn't the party over yet? Do you mean we have to stay here longer making small talk with people who don't even care that Longshot won but are here for the food?! I-" I would have gone on, but Mr. Rogers approached behind Lucero.
Flashing a smile, I said, "What a positively delightful party, Mr. Rogers." Lucero barely stifled a laugh at my change of attitude. As the night continued on, I dance almost every song, taking Lucero's earlier advice. Finally, at midnight the party ended. Lucero and I practically sleep walked to the car. Somehow he delivered me safely to my doorstep. Because I was half asleep it didn't occur to me that he wasn't supposed to know where I lived. As I walked into my house, he called out, "Tomorrow at seven, be at the track."
* * * *
The next morning at six-thirty, I woke with a start. I was going to be late if I didn't hurry. Twenty-five minutes later, I ran huffing and puffing to the track gate. Lucero stood chuckling by the entrance.
"You look a little flustered, Sarah. Get up too late?"
"Very funny," I said sarcastically. "What's on the agenda this morning?"
"Your going to jog Gambit, breeze a couple two-year-olds, and use Old Bones to each a youngster how to break."
Just to let you readers know, Old Bones is a big, stocky, fifteen-year-old paint gelding who was taught to break from a gate. Instead of allowing two fractious youngsters feed off each other's energy, there was a nice calm paint to receive the bumps. Back to present.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a bouncing chestnut approaching. I knew that had to be Gambit. For the next twenty minutes, Gambit and I bounced around the track. I mean, literally bounced like a bunny.
The rest of the morning passed without trouble. Because of the amount of food I had eaten the night before, I changed in a sweat suit and helped the grooms muck out the stalls. At eleven, I weighed myself and found, surprisingly, that I would make weight that day. I had a light lunch before going to the jockey's room to change for my first race.
The first race was a maiden special weight for two-year-old colts at one mile on the dirt. Lucero had told me that Cage Fighter was one of his most promising colts. To start off, he had a wonderful pedigree, Seattle Slew out of a Deputy Minister mare. In other words, bred to run long. I didn't know much more about the horse.
Then, I walked down to the paddock. Upon arriving, chaos reigned. A big, black monster of a horse was throwing a fit, rearing, bucking, and thrashing about. At first I thought nothing of it until I realized that was the horse I was riding. Stopping dead I thought, 'Oh my gosh, how am I going to ride him?!'
Arthur Baca stopped beside me, "So you're the lucky one that gets to ride the beast. I rode him in his first race three weeks ago. A terror behind the gate, but he sure can run when he puts his mind to it. Finished second after he decided to pick up his feet. Good luck." He patted me sympathetically on the shoulder and walked over to his mount that was standing quietly.
Wearily, I walked over to Lucero when the beast was on all fours. I raised my eyebrows and said, "Don't bother explaining, Frank, Arthur told me all about him."
Two more words of advice. Stay on." Before Cage Fighter had a chance to throw a fit, I was boosted on.
We reached the track in one piece, but I wasn't sure if the lead pony would make it to the gate. Finally, I told the outrider just to let me go. Cage Fighter tried to bolt, but I just managed to restrain him. 'He's definitely warmed up,' I thought.
Then, we were at the dreaded gate. It took six gate assistants and five minutes too force him into the gate. Cage Fighter couldn't stand still. He was so distracted! I noticed that the last horse loaded. Desperately, I tried to get his attention, but to no avail. The gate flew open with Cage Fighter's head turned to the right.
I felt him lunge out of the gate a second after everyone else. Surprisingly, the big horse was able to gather his long legs and stride out without tripping over himself. Angling Cage Fighter to the rail, I assessed the situation.
We were last, sitting just inside of a gray. Immediately, I could tell the pace was fast because the two front-runners were being hustled by their riders. A hole opened up between the horses directly in front. I urged Cage Fighter to go through the hole, but he just switched leads and drifted toward the rail.
I decided not to put up with his playfulness. Taking the crop, I popped him one on the rump. Cage Fighter jumped forward in surprise. The hole was still there, so I steered him through. I continued to ride aggressively, to keep his attention. By the time we reached the far turn, Cage Fighter was steadily passing horses with every stride. The leaders were only three lengths away. I knew if I could keep Cage Fighter's attention, we would win.
At the head of the stretch, we headed the tiring front-runners. Immediately, I started to work on the horse. Cage Fighter accelerated rapidly, fluidly switching leads. Even though we were well ahead, I never stopped urging Cage Fighter forward. In the end, Cage Fighter breezed across the finish line in a workmanlike fashion.
The minute I relaxed my stance, Cage Fighter lost all concentration and let out a buck. I barely managed to stay on. The best was yet to come for the winner's photo. Cage Fighter never actually stood still. The photographer just took a picture of him moving. Half of the owner's party was cut out of the picture. Maybe the owners themselves!
