Page 14 - May 2007 The Game

Steering Not Included
A Head at the Wire
Every day at the racetrack was a learning experience but I was about to rise to a new level of expertise. A 2 year old filly in the New York sales catalogue captured the attention of my contract holder, Bobbie Venezia. Out of a Cochise mare, this filly would normally be beyond his budget but as a surviving twin, she fell into his price range. Here was our chance to win a stakes race, maybe even The Kentucky Oaks.
And so Black’s Home Law arrived on that cool September morning, 1975. I had envisioned the female version of Native Dancer with a sleek, athletic body and the look of eagles. Off the van came a 14.3 hand pot bellied filly with a motley grey coat and the eyes of a frightened baby sparrow. It was hard to believe that this pony-like body was home to a heart that pumped the blood of champions.
Her face was unusual in it’s not-quite- grey colour and lack of a blaze or even a star. I studied it’s shape and expression carefully to get an idea of her personality, and decided on a nickname—Paleface. After a couple of days to become acquainted, I got on her back. She was apparently saddle broken but it seemed
that steering was not included in the package. She had yet to learn the protocol of the racetrack, much different from the free-for-all of the pasture. Our combined inexperience would have been a recipe for disaster if it weren’t for my optimistic attitude and the filly’s kind, intelligent nature.
I took her to the track each morning just before it closed, when traffic was light. Communication steadily improved to the point where we agreed on our general direction if not always on our speed. Whenever a horse galloped by, Paleface went from first gear to overdrive, sometimes forward, sometimes sharply right, usually with an energetic buck. Often, I was in a position more befitting a circus rider than a jockey, hanging on by the skin of my teeth.
By January, she had grown to 15.2 hands. She lagged behind most 3 year olds in experience, but in mind and temperament, she was leagues ahead. I’d never known a horse so intelligent and cooperative. After our first official breeze, it was time to school in the starting gate. I had re-schooled horses in the gate but this was my first experience with a clean slate.
Luckily, the
padded stalls were
one of my
favourite places
and Paleface picked up on my attitude. The gate crew at Suffolk were especially helpful with young horses and our education went smoothly and without incident. She was okay’d after a few sessions.
I approached her first race
with loads of confidence, so
much that I told Bobby to go
ahead and bet. On Feb. 16, the
track was fast and we were ready. Paleface was as sleek as a greyhound as we cantered to the post, alert and ready for competition. We broke sharply from the 10 hole but the filly lost her balance and collided with the 9 horse. I straightened her out immediately but we’d lost impulsion and were in last place. The field in front of us bunched tightly together and my only path was three horses wide. We lost lengths around the turn but steadily improved in stride. By the head of the stretch, I had a clear path and let her run. We passed horses like
they were pulling up and slipped under the wire a length in front.
I headed right for the winner’s circle and just as the camera caught our smiling image, the inquiry sign flashed. It seemed someone had noticed the break from the gate. Within seconds, the toteboard rearranged the order of finish and I was placed third behind the 9 horse.
The only bright spot to the stewards’ decision was that the second placed horse, Easy Poisette, was ridden by my friend, Eddie Kelly. He thanked me for the gift but there were no words of gratitude at films the next day. The collision out of the gate was captured by the head-on cameras. Steward, Dave Hicks, acknowledged that Black’s Home Law was the best horse in the race but I would have to bring her out straighter if I wanted to keep her number up.
When Paleface and I went out for our first gallop, I discovered a new sense of maturity and sureness in her stride. That
one race was equivalent to a full year at college. We visited the starting gate, just to make sure the bad break was a fluke. Within 3 weeks, we were ready to take the maidens on again. March 5 found us back in the saddling paddock under the same conditions—except for the racetrack. A downpour had left the surface sloppy on top, heavy underneath. It wasn’t anyone’s desired condition.
We broke from the 6 hole, clean and straight but Paleface faded into last position as she struggled to get a hold of the track. I found the best footing about two horses wide and set about helping her all I could. The track gave little back and we were bogged down by the deep going, slop flung in our faces. The filly’s head dropped lower and lower.
With each furlong, I shortened my reins an inch to help support her. Paleface dug in and matched my effort. With my hands halfway up her neck, we closed in on the 16th pole, a half length behind the leader. I slapped her on the shoulder with my whip to let her know it was now or never. Paleface gave me everything she had and we drew away from our opponent, galloping under the wire 2 1/2 lengths the winner. It was the classiest move I’d ever experienced.
This time the toteboard remained unchanged as I entered the winner’s circle. I couldn’t have been happier if we’d won the Kentucky Oaks.
A series of real life stories by Paddy Head majeek05@hotmail.com
Winner - Black’s Home Law
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14 The Game, May 2007 Canada’s Thoroughbred Racing Newspaper
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