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Daybreak at Louisville Downs Part 5

Original article written by The Steward posted 14 years 3 weeks ago

A slew of horses stepped through the open rails on the backstretch. Two horses in Ladonna King’s final set of the day walked on in single file, following Emily Klein’s arch-necked bay Anemone and Stormy Peak’s blazing chestnut Won’t Back Down. Only eight horses were allowed on the turf at one time during the morning hours. Ashley Gibson’s bouncing dark bay Offshore Excursion led the charge, having turned the right way immediately and already into a gallop at the 3/8ths pole. Jolene Danner’s black three-year-old Tattered followed close behind, too aggressive to walk, stand, wait, and then gallop.

Ladonna’s two horses turned the wrong way and maintained a brisk jog around the first turn. Night Or Day led the group, his dark neck raised high as he surveyed the outer turf rails. A second black colt, the small and burly Switzerland-bred Feat, jogged behind. He’d inherited his bulky shoulders from his sire, Fumetsu, and his lithe dark frame from his dam, the immortal Kismet.

The pair of horses stopped at the wire, watching Anemone and Won’t Back Down gallop past, then turned and started jogging the right way. Up in the grandstand, Ladonna watched, shading her eyes from the rapidly warming sun. Night Or Day, a candidate for the Turf Sprint, broke off first, galloping sedately ahead of Feat, who hesitated in the middle of the turf course before jumping out into an eager gallop.

Feat had a lot to live up to. His siblings including Turf winner Feature Attraction, who took the race by an astonishing 13 3/4 lengths, as well as Arc winner Atlantis and super sire Frayed. Kismet was the dam of seven $1 million earners, with total progeny earnings of just under $18 million as of Steward’s Cup week. With two more foals yet to hit the track, and both the four-year-old Hurry Up and Wait and three-year-old Feat sure to hit $1 million in their careers, Kismet’s legend as a broodmare and future Hall of Famer was secure.

Feat headed towards the far turn, passing Offshore Excursion jogging back towards the gap. The second turf set was circling outside the gap, comprised of Ramey Furney’s The Shadow Knows, a black turf sprinter; Franky Dam’s well-bred bay All I Want to Tell; and two horses from Peter Gleason’s barn, the fillies Pellerani and Sell Me Your Soul. After Ladonna confirmed that none of the horses waiting for their turn were Turf contenders, she went back to watching Feat, who thundered down the stretch with short, quick strides. She brushed back her hair and started to walk down the steps towards the first level of the grandstand, but stopped short.

Just stepping on to the track from the backside chute gap was a bay horse. He had no markings, and wasn’t tall, merely a solid bright bay with a flowing black mane and tail. Despite being so nondescript, Ladonna knew the horse instantly. “When on earth did he get here?”

July strutted onto the track, thrusting his narrow head into the air and sending his black mane cascading. Ladonna scrambled to look through her pre-entry list. “I swear I never saw his name,” she muttered. Having to deal with star older runners such as Bold, Inhuman, and Jabaar was bad enough, let alone tackling a superhorse such as Trafalgar. Now that July had arrived, Ladonna felt panicked and considered scratching Feat.

Down on the track, the black colt refused to pull up. He tugged on the rains, throwing rider Ava Fox up onto his neck. His dark coat sparkled with dapples, and Ladonna knew he’d never been better. All thoughts of scratching drained from her mind. Instead, she contemplated whether or not the 1 1/2 mile world record would fall during the race.

**

Just after one in the afternoon, Ara Davies sat outside of Coloratura’s stall, reading fanfic on her iPhone and enjoying the gentle woofing of the filly against her neck. After three full seasons of hard competition, the bright chestnut Coloratura had become one of her favorites. Plus, it would be difficult to park outside of a different runner’s stall.

Out of Ara’s ten Steward’s Cup contenders, five of them were slightly unruly. Trafalgar, the favorite for the Turf, fussed if bothered and remained aloof and distant in his stall. Warlike carried an aggressive, mean streak, while Look See and Look Quick were full of nervous energy. The stately gray Caldron was one of Ara’s least favorite horses, and two-year-old Casus Belli was known to bite. That left Diffraction, Carpenter, and Bold.

Coloratura reached her burnt copper nose over the webbing and attempted to dislodge the iPhone from Ara’s hands. Ara giggled and rubbed the velvet muzzle, then stood up and stepped away to finish her story. Coloratura stuck her neck out curiously, then turned to dig in her hay bale instead.

Quiet had descended on the backside, as there was no racing on Tuesdays, and no paddock schooling until Wednesday. Most trainers, owners, hotwalkers and grooms had all gone home for a midday rest before afternoon feeding and walking around three. The sun had come out in full force just after training, warming the earth, but the wind never quit, and now it blew clouds of dust across the barren stabling area.

Ara’s shedrow, at the furthest end of the backside by the parking lot, was a quiet, sheltered barn. Although the horses could hear the clang of the gate in the sprint races, they weren’t affected too badly by traffic noises or general commotion in the morning. She liked that barn this year, the year she actually had several major shots in the Steward’s Cup. Instead of just partying, like usual, Ara was focused, intense, and ready.

As soon as the thought left her mind, the iPhone lit up in her hands. Ara saw a picture of Michelle Calderoni in a Disney pirate outfit flashing on the screen. She stared at it, confused, then answered. “Hello?”

“Araaaa!” Michelle called, and Ara could hear music pumping in the background of what she assumed was Michelle’s hotel room. “Are you coming to the trainer’s dinner tonight?”

“Free food? What do you think?” Ara answered, as if this was clearly a stupid question. “What time does it start?”

“Seven, but Jolene and I are going to pre-game at six,” Michelle answered, slightly out of breath, as if she were dancing.

“Oooh! What hotel are you at?” Ara asked. “I’ll be over after feeding!”


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