Here & There – February 1

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Here & There makes its return from an indefinite hiatus. We’ve got quotes, names, a Tweet, a poem and more  from around the racing world – or our racing world anyway. 

Worth Repeating

“That’s a big five-eighths for her. If she’s good, she might still be on point for the Endeavor on the 11th.”
Assistant trainer Norm Casse, talking last week about plans to work Tepin. The champion went 5 furlongs in :59.80 Wednesday at Palm Meadows.

“Ahh, they didn’t listen to you anyway.”
Auctioneer to ring announcer Richard Migliore, who apologized for not mentioning a particular horse was Maryland-bred at Fasig-Tipton Midlantic’s January sale

“Can’t wait too long, we’ll have a 2-year-old.”
Fasig-Tipton auctioneer Steve Dance, coaxing someone to bid more quickly

“And now you can take all the selfies you want with her.”
Fasig-Tipton auctioneer Joseph Mast, after someone bought a yearling filly named Sexy Selfie

“I’m a horse-sale addict.”
Buyer Carrie Brogden, in between bids at Timonium

“This place is crowded.”
Sales-goer at Fasig-Tipton, who then realized that January weather forces a lot more people in the pavilion than October or May weather

“Nothing like old photos or tapes to an old jump jockey.”
Gregg Ryan, after receiving a VHS tape of ESPN’s Colonial Cup coverage from 1998

“Nothing more than an exercised canter.”
Racecaller as Solighoster, co-owned by the American-based Colony Stable, sauntered to a maiden win at Fontwell

“That brought back some great memories.”
Jockey Mike Smith after reading an article on his career in TIHR


This Moment in Stable Tour History

Looking back can be fun. Saturday, Shug McGaughey and the Phipps Stable won a turf maiden with Snap Decision at Gulfstream Park. The 3-year-old broke from post 12, navigated from well back early to win by 2 ½ lengths at 6-1. We knew the name was familiar and looked him up. Back in August, Snap Decision was an unraced 2-year-old and part of the McGaughey Stable Tour in The Saratoga Special. The Hall of Fame trainer liked what he’d seen from the son of Hard Spun and Salute (and therefore a half-brother to Grade 1 winner Mr. Speaker). “He worked on the grass (Monday, a half in :48.79),” McGaughey said then. “Nice horse, or I think he is. He worked this morning like he was.” Click to do your own Stable Tour research.

Names of the Week

Clyde’s Image. 3-year-old owned by Sullimar Stable, who owned and bred Get Stormy, affectionately called Clyde around Tom Bush’s stable, as in, Clydesdale.

Franz Klammer. 5-year-old British bred is by Midnight Legend, out of Ski. He’s owned by Downhill Only.

Experts Only. Sticking with the ski theme. The broodmare – out of Grand Slalom – sold at Fasig-Tipton.

Neverbreakthechain. A 4-year-old broodmare prospect, she made the catalog at Fasig-Tipton but was withdrawn. She was named by a Fleetwood Mac fan as she’s out of Listentothewindblo.

Tweet of the Week

@racing_matters (Jennifer Durenberger)

Don’t ever stop writing, @joeclancy65

(Linked to Joe’s blog post about the loss of Many Clouds)


Poetry In Motion
Owner/reader Gigi Lazenby sent a note after Grand National winner Many Clouds died at Cheltenham Saturday. With the note, Lazenby included a poem that might have said it best.

The Hunter and his Dying Steed
y Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

“Wo worth the chase. Wo worth the day,
That cost thy life, my gallant grey!”—Scott

The Hunter stooped o’er his dying steed
With sad dejected mien,
And softly stroked its glossy neck,
Lustrous as silken sheen;
With iron will and nerve of steel,
And pale lips tight compressed,
He kept the tears from eyes that long
Were strange to such a guest.

Thou’rt dying now, my faithful one,
Alas! ’tis easy known—
Thy neck would arch beneath my touch,
Thou’dst brighten at my tone;
But turn not thus thy restless eyes
Upon my saddened brow,
Nor look with such imploring gaze—

I cannot help thee now.
No more we’ll bound o’er dew gemmed sward
At break of summer morn,
Or follow on, through forests green,
The hunter’s merry horn;
No more we’ll brave the rapid stream,
Nor battle with the tide,
Nor cross the slipp’ry mountain path,
As we were wont to ride.

Oh! we have travelled many miles,
And dangers have we braved;
And more than once thy matchless speed
Thy master’s life hath saved;
And many nights the forest sward
Has been the couch we’ve pressed,
Where, pillowed on thy glossy neck,
Most sweet has been my rest.

How often, too, I we shared with thee
The hunter’s scanty fare.
To see thee suffer want or pain,
Mute friend I could not bear;
And now, thou best in agony,
As if thy heart would burst,
And I, what can I do for thee,
Save slake thy burning thirst?

That parting sob, that failing glance—
The pains of death are past!
Thy glazing eyes still turned on me
With love unto the last!
Well may my tears o’er thy cold form,
My steed, flow fast and free,
For, oh! I have had many friends,
Yet none so true as thee!