The Mickey Walsh Novice Stakes today. The New York Turf Writers Cup tomorrow. Jump jockeys and horses will compete on the fastest, tightest, the least-room-for-error track on the circuit. The most lucrative. The most important. Winning is good. Winning at Saratoga is forever.
Nine jumps Wednesday. Nine jumps Thursday.
Break alertly, whether you’re coming from out of it or laying close. First jump comes up quick, second one too. Angle over, feather into a slot, save ground but don’t bury yourself. Over the first two, check your bearings, mental checklist, fast. Where are you, who’s in front, who’s behind you, how fast are you going? Down the back, two hurdles, pop, pop, short and quick, save the big ones for later. Open your hands, deep breath, shimmy the iron back to your toe. Most of the time, you see the 4 1/4-foot hurdle, other times, you’re blinded, rely on the timing you’ve spent your life honing, the horse will jump, by rote. Rhythm. Instinct. Trust.
You hear nothing, other than an occasional plea for room or a grunt when it goes unheeded. Around the second turn, one circuit down. Pressure increases, better fly these two in front of the stands, feels like you’re running downhill, rock them back a touch, especially at the hurdle after the wire. Who’s pressing outside, are they coming over or staying out? Keep your position. Keep your position. Keep your position. Next turn, still going well, need to find daylight down the back but protect your inside. Know who to follow. Who’s poking? Who’s swinging? Is that confidence or distress? Who moves too soon? Who stays? Who waits?
Two good ones down the back, long is better than short here, a slap on the shoulder to get away from the last hurdle, check the gauges. Around the final turn, no last jump, that makes it easier, or harder, depending on how you’re going. Try to fill their lungs, stoke the flame, swap to your outside lead, don’t drift off the fence, straighten up, between the flags, running now, head down, wire, wire, wire.
For a jump jockey, there is nothing like the Saratoga cauldron.
For Tom Garner, that cauldron will feel like a warm bath compared to last week. The 29-year-old British-born jockey finished work after a rainy Tuesday morning at Leslie Young’s farm in Unionville, Pennsylvania, and was on his way to the Whip Tavern, a British-themed pub, with his friend, Walter Puddifer. They didn’t make it to lunch.
Tropical Storm Isaias had turned the field where Garner had just galloped horses into a torrent of water. The Doe Run Stream had become a flash flood. Garner and Puddifer had driven through a couple of minor floods but this was too much, they stopped to take a look. Two locals ahead of them had done the same thing. They were distressed after watching the impossible, a black sedan trying to fiord the water, the car got swept away behind a row of pine trees, windshield wipers flapping like a lost bird. A middle-aged man, gray beard, cell phone on video, a younger man, red North Face rain jacket, Garner and Puddifer stood in fear, looking for options. Walk the metal guard rail, the top of the board fence, drive their cars into the flood, dive in…none seemed possible.
Right then, a West Marlborough Township worker in a backhoe, a “loader,” appeared at a nearby stop sign and was about to turn away from them. The foursome shouted and waved him over, explained the situation and climbed in the bucket in a flash. Five strangers, one cause.
The backhoe traversed the bridge, a beaver skidded and flopped back into the water and they saw the car, pinned against a panel of post and rail fence. A father and four kids were in trouble, as water rushed over the hood of the car.
“When we jumped in, I didn’t realize the situation, like, grand, yeah, grand, it was a bit different,” Garner said. “When we got over the bridge, the stream, the river, hell, I’ve never seen anything like it. We were like, ‘Right, this is serious.’ The mood changed. It was pretty intense.”
When a jump jockey says it was intense…
“We saw the guy trying to wade out through the river with his son in a nappy,” Garner said. “And there were another three kids stuck in the car.”
The driver positioned the loader as close to the car as possible while Garner, Puddifer and the other two heroes advised the kids to get on the roof of the car before forming a human chain to get the family into the loader’s bucket. The oldest child climbed into the water, holding onto the car for his life.
“Your man had to grab him, if he hadn’t gotten a hold of his arm, he would have been gone,” Garner said. “I was holding onto his belt and coat because he was leaning over the side of the bucket, another guy was behind me. I’d say he was a second from going. You could see how scared the little lad was. It was sketchy, when the loader started to get pushed by the current. If the fence had gone, the car would have gone. It was insane.”
When a jump jockey says it was insane…
“It’s a tiny river and it turned into the Amazon,” Garner said. “I’ve gotten a similar adrenaline rush, but nothing like this.” Five strangers, four children, a father and a flood. Now, that’s an adrenaline rush.
