Doo-Dah! Doo-dah! The beautiful colts and fleet fillies of the world are on parade tomorrow for one of the year's toughest equestian competitions: The Kentucky Derby. True to form, I have little insight on the odds of the race (prettiest dapple or best name often gets my vote). But, in the words of the wise, "Ill bet on the one with the blaze, because you just don't see a blaze like that every day."If you're near a television set, I encourage you to catch this race: the athleticism of the both the horses and jockeys is breathtaking as they gallop down the track. "Come one Dover, moving your bloomin' ass!"
Just consider this excerpt from Laura Hillenbrand's Seabiscuit: An American Legend,
"At the top of the stretch Special Agent faltered. Pollard pulled Seabiscuit's nose to the outside and slapped him on the rump. Seabiscuit pounced. Richards saw him got and gunned Rosemont through the hole after him, but Seabiscuit had stolen a three-length advantage. Speacial Agent gave way grudgingly along the inside as Indian Broom rallied up the outside, not quite quick enough to keep up... He was coming into the homestretch of the richest race in the world with a strong horse beneath him. Behind them were seventeen of the best horses in the nation. To the left and right, sixy thousand voices roard. Ahead was nothing but a long strip of red soil." (122)
I especially enjoy the contrast between the abrupt and action-packed play by plays occurring between a noisy and surrounding excitement ... and the distinct focalization on the "long strip of red soil"-- some peace and quietness that must have be some zen oasis for Jim Pollard, Seabiscuit's jockey. You can bet not much has changed in the seventy years between tomorrow's race, and the races of yester-years'.
There's no place I'd rather be than in the slender dip of a thoroughbred's back. My first horse was a mischievous three-year-old, fresh into his retirement from off the track. He was lanky, a bit high strung, and the first time I rode him, the nerves from being perched atop such a tall horse caused me to lean forward right up on his neck, the signal for him to churn out all the energy he could muster through his powerful legs. But I stayed on and we stayed together for many years, until he was lost during the storm. I felt mighty nostalgic as I watched the Derby this year; there was a horse with the same name--Dublin.
ReplyDeleteAw Kelle! I still ride my first pony. She's an Arab cross and we were once green together, so I sort of understand (minus the height). I didn't know you rode. I heard Katrina dispaced a lot of horses, and some went to rescue homes.
ReplyDeleteThanks for commenting on my blog, I'm reading yours now : )
Oh don't read that, it's pretty much an exercise in superficiality...hehe. But it's kinda fun to look at. I've been riding since I was five, and now I teach at the barn that once taught me. It's weird and it makes me feel all full-circle and whatnot. I didn't know you rode either...I am still amazed at how viscerally satisfying riding is for me.
ReplyDeleteand...I really like your blog, it reads like what goes on inside my brain!
My dream is to go on a fox hunt (if you want to get into viscerally satisfying, that does it for me)-- in the mean time I am on UT's equestrian team learning stuff.
ReplyDeleteOh, if you are attending Loyola in the fall, Tulane has an equestrian team too if you are interested.
Thanks for reading my blog: my favorite picture from your blog so far is the ankles crossed on the deck with the vegetation and the sky. Also theres one really cool one of you where the light is really bright and washed out.
I've been planning a trip to Arkansas for some fox hunting with this cool young doctor who rides with me! It is our shared dream and hopefully we can achieve it...
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