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Joe Clancy The last page, the last words of another season of the Saratoga Special. You’d think I’d have this one in the vault, canned months ago, it’s easy, say goodbye in 800 words, I do it every year. But, alas, it’s the last thing I write for the 12th consecutive year.
September 2, 2012 view pdf September 1, 2012 view pdf August 31, 2012 view pdf August 30, 2012 view pdf August 29, 2012 view pdf August 26, 2012 view pdf August 25, 2012 view pdf August 24, 2012 view pdf August 23, 2012 view pdf August 22, 2012 view pdf August 19, 2012 view … Read more
I’ll miss the trees. I won’t miss the hot son on the back of a navy blazer.
I’ll miss the cups of tea in the morning. I won’t miss the cups of coffee at night.
I’ll miss watching Bill Mott watch his horses. I won’t miss the trainers who don’t know their horses.
Kathy Ritvo watched Mucho Macho Man walk toward the barn after training Friday morning and oohed like a fan, not a trainer. “See those muscles up across his back? See them?” she asked. “Three months of jogging.”
Todd Wyatt catapulted down the clubhouse stairs after Thursday’s first race, hugging friends like he just got home from the war. He came from the clouds, where he watched the race was anybody’s guess. Another trainer, watching a race in isolated agony.
While walking through the stable area, Donna Green stopped and thought about it, then painted the picture.
Like the rest of us, agent Billy Castle watched the Travers somewhat in disbelief. His jockey, David Cohen, established a position on the rail with Golden Ticket, turned for home, implored the 33-1 shot for energy. At the eighth pole, they led the $1 million race by a length; at the sixteenth pole, the margin was the same . . . and then it wasn’t. At the wire, they didn’t lead it at all as Alpha arrived alongside.
It’s that time of year . . . when you lament what you didn’t do instead of promising what you’re going to do. It’s nearly over. Three remaining issues, that’s it until next year.
Pete Bradley is no Irishman. But he can imitate one. “You know, she ran pretty good, she won by six, you know,” Bradley said, in his best Irish brogue, imitating his friend Ed Daley who had called about a 2-year-old filly who had broken her maiden by 6 lengths at Navan in April.
