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Sean Clancy Garrett O’Rourke met Bill Mott at the foot of the winner’s circle after the Personal Ensign. Mott has a way of silently making people talk, he just kind of stares at you until you fill space with observations.
“She’s just that good,” O’Rourke said.
Mott smiled.
Close Hatches is that good.
If you ever wondered, the disappointment of losing outweighs the euphoria of winning. At least it did on an overcast Saturday in Saratoga when Jimmy Jerkens finished 1-2 in the 145th running of the Travers Stakes.
Shug McGaughey watched his first Travers, or at least the first one he recalls, from a tack room at Belmont Park.
It was 1978. Laz Barrera had Affirmed. John Veitch had Alydar. McGaughey had nothing but a TV. Affirmed bumped Alydar, got disqualified and everybody left empty.
It was that time of day. Metal rakes began to cover the morning’s hoof beats. Trainers opened condition books. Exercise riders fled for breakfast.
Harvey Vanier used to say rainy days were for getting his horses fitter than everybody else’s. Every day it rained, you’d see maroon saddle towels whizzing past, splashing through the mud, hooves rattling the base, while other trainers’ horses stayed dry. Now there’s something to be said for keeping horses off bad tracks, but the Travers-winning trainer had a point. There are advantages to rainy days.
Nine jockeys will compete in today’s feature. Nine foreign-born jump jockeys of varying experience and ability aim at the season’s biggest prize, the New York Turf Writers Cup. One is a four-time champion father of three, one is an apprentice, one is a woman amateur. Some have made homes here and are staying for good. Others are simply passing through, a busman’s holiday at America’s best track.
Eddie Graham faced a tough decision. Agonizing, really. Go for the bigger purse, smaller but tougher field or smaller purse, weaker but bigger field? Graham’s horse was thriving, tuned like a Gibson Guitar. Graham conferred with his owners. Talked to racing secretaries. Quizzed friends. Called confidants. Finally, he made the decision. Run Aitcheson Lane in the 3-mile maiden timber at Willowdale. It worked, he won.
Communication today. My phone barely rings, but it buzzes all day, all night. Texts from friends and family, clients and competitors, fans and foes.
Here’s a list of texts I received this week, offers a snapshot into the world of racing at Saratoga. Can you guess the senders? The first person to correctly match the texts with the senders gets a prize. Email your answers to [email protected].
Todd Pletcher leaned like a sapling in a thunderstorm, hanging over the ledge of the box at the top of the clubhouse stairs as Stopchargingmaria churned through the final furlong of the Grade 1 stakes, reeling in Miss Besilu and staving off Joint Return. After an arduous stretch run that lasted longer than a root canal, Pletcher raised both fists, high-fived an assistant and regained his composure.
