Sean Clancy

I’m crying in a coffee shop in Middleburg. Three tennis ladies banter about cupcake icing, a Jack Russell begs for a bagel across the room, two old men reminisce in the corner, another latte froths from a gun-metal machine. 

From the December edition of Steeplechase Times.

Janet Elliot and Richard Valentine stood outside Shadwell’s hospitality room in Park Paddocks, Left Yard at Tattersalls, October 2010, in Newmarket, England. A thousand horses on their minds, Timeform Guidebooks dog-eared, scribbled on, digested and dissected, tucked under their arms. Elliot had just finished a cup of tea (with milk, water must be boiling). Valentine, coffee. Shadwell’s Johnny Peter-Hoblyn choreographed the show, showing horses while his wife, Isabel directed Hyphen Bloodstock’s tour. Elliot and Valentine had another list, another assignment, ready to go. Then Elliot dropped her tea cup.

From the December edition of Steeplechase Times.

They can come from anywhere. Hall of Famer Burley Cocks cultivated a championship season from Flying Cottage in 1962. Jonathan Sheppard produced one with Haffaday in 1967. James Hruska designed a title run with Valley Hart in 1960. Grover Stephens won one with Gillian in 1956.

From the December edition of Steeplechase Times.

The last fence of the Colonial Cup. For 42 years, it’s provided the moment; champions crowned, titles won, careers made, win and it’s forever. There are bigger purses, there aren’t bigger races. If timing is everything, the Colonial Cup is everything.

Overheard as the horses walked out for the Classic, “Did you hear? They’re adding three more races, the Breeders’ Cup Harness Classic, the Breeders’ Cup Quarter Horse Dash and the Breeders’ Cup Stick Horse Derby.” Yes, there are too many races, and yes, it’s still the best show we have in America.

John Velazquez knew it early.

On the way to the start for the Grade 1 Vanderbilt Aug. 5, Shackleford galloped next to his lead pony, slowly as always. Mud spattered above Shackleford’s socks, under his chestnut belly, head bowed. From the grandstand, he looked the same, but he was a different horse.

Walking down the stairs from the box seats, Kiaran McLaughlin looked across the track to the big screen in the infield. He uttered one word that summed up the 143rd Travers Stakes.

“Tight.”

Kiaran McLaughlin watched his Kentucky Derby dream slip away.

“We lost the race before the race,” the trainer said. “I went to the paddock with 88 minutes to post, I sat down on a bench and was waiting. Alpha came in with 20 something minutes to post, I felt like he was a popsicle melting right before my eyes.”

I knew it would happen. Didn’t know when. Didn’t know why. Didn’t know how long it would last. Hoped nobody would notice.

Irad Ortiz looked up, paused and repeated the question. “What do I think?” Then the 20-year-old jockey smiled, eyes widening.