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Blogs by Leslie P Garcia
Derby Day, 2004 5/1/2004 5:15:36 PM
Run for the Roses...without sunshine. Without my mother. But tradition, never the less. The 130th Run for the Roses...18 thoroughbreds, slogging through an unusually rainy day for the brief glory of a win and a wreath of roses...always, the first Saturday in May evokes memories for me.
I've followed the Derby since I was 8 or 9--as long as I can remember, and even before my first pony. I know Smokey came after I knew about the Derby, because I'd cut wild daisies, make a chain, and pretend he was a Thoroughbred, not a Shetland, and the Derby winner, not tied to a swing.
I didn't always tie Smokey to a swing. The thing is, I turned out to be too good a trainer for my own good. I trained him to "break" from a gate--never mind that we didn't have a gate, just a chalk line on the ground, and that speed scared me to death.
Smokey was blazing fast for a Shetland--could beat any of the neighbors' big guns--Goldie, Star, Lightning. Smokey and Lightening had the most famous (and fun--much better than that little War Admiral-Sea Biscuit thing) match race in the history of Douglasville, Georgia. I'll have to write about that someday...but back to the Derby.
I used to go with the traditional stables--especially Calument. Had pretty good success picking winners when I was little, not so much anymore. Love the grays--if they're dappled, the huge chestnuts. Didn't like Secretariat in the Derby, but came to idolize him through the course of that year--the year I got disowned, married against my family's wishes, and changed the history of my live and others forever.
Secretariat came to represent so much to me that I've dreamed of him twice--once I got to walk him, once to kiss him on that magnificent nose. He's gone now, and so is much of the young me. It's life; it happens.
Now I find myself rooting, more often than not, for the less-than-perfect, the horses with stories. All of us, horse or human, have stories--some just catch the heart a bit tighter than others.
Risen Star--I liked that nuns had a stake in him. Not to offend anyone, but it tickled me that a horse was working for charitable causes. (Okay, he was a Secretariat horse, too, but still...) Funny Cide, and this year's winner, Smarty Jones. Beautiful horse, but when I learned about that bumped head and how he almost didn't make it...and how noone gave his jockey a chance, but the trainer didn't do what so many modern business types might and say "You're fired..." yeah, I like Smarty Jones. Don't think he's a Belmont horse, but then--I once thought Secretariat was over-rated. Good thing Mom told me to watch him, because she thought I'd change my mind.
Horses terrified Mom, but she had a good eye for Derby candidates. For years, we'd call each other on the first Saturday in May--once my father was gone, and we could talk.
Yeah, I don't go with perfection as much as I used to. Still like big, gorgeous chestnuts, though. Some habits just die hard...like picking up the phone today at 5:30 and having to put it back down.
Mom, Smarty Jones won. Think you'd have liked Friends Lake better. Maybe the Belmont, as you'd always say.
