In Zen - by Bruce Greene

Blood-Horse Staff — Tue, 19 May 2009 13:34:00 GMT

The Thoroughbred community, like the country, is enduring a string of bad years. I often wonder what it will take for our sport to survive. Recently, in my meditative state (that translates to a second cup of coffee), I recalled the Zen parable of the man who was walking in the jungle and chanced to stumble upon a hungry tiger. He took off running until he came to the edge of a dangerous precipice. The tiger lunged. The man leapt and grabbed a dangling vine 10 feet down the cliff. Just then two mice came out of a small hole in the side of the mountain and started gnawing on the vine. Looking around, the man saw a beautiful blackberry growing on a bush nearby. Just as his lifeline snapped, he picked the berry, popped it in his mouth, and exclaimed, “What a deliciously sweet blackberry this is!”

Some people, with their world crumbling about them, are able to remain in the moment. When our leaders are faced with overcoming a malaise of epic proportions as we have now, they would do well to remain in the moment. The historian in me, like the handicapper, knows the value of never ignoring the past. I also know that when there is a well-bred first timer in the post parade, coat gleaming, walking confidently, head up, ears pricked, it’s best to be in the moment and act accordingly. Forget the odds. No past performances exist. It’s a good old-fashioned leap of faith that our industry needs to make. That maiden, like any other Thoroughbred, is that sweet blackberry, ripe for the picking.

It doesn’t take a Nobel laureate to figure out how more folks could become interested in Thoroughbred racing. We’ve already got the most important part of the equation: the horse. So how do we get people involved? In education circles it’s called engagement. Find out what they know (prior knowledge), what they care about, and what constitutes their comfort zone.

Success is the best motivator. It’s an investment in people. Up here in my little corner of the Northwest, Portland Meadows involved the uninitiated by creating “the people’s horse.” The brainchild of Will Alempijevic, the track’s general manager, Mystacallie, a 4-year-old filly, began her racing career in the barn of trainer Ben Root, but was co-owned by the people.

The lightly-raced filly became part of a promotion to bring more young people to the track. In concert with local radio station 95.5-FM (The Game Sportsradio), Portland Meadows promised to match the filly’s seasonal earnings as a donation to the emergency relief fund of the Oregon National Guard.

It was as if the ghost of Seabiscuit, responding to the return of hard times, took over. Nobody could have predicted that Mystacallie would win 7 of 14 starts. Her earnings totaled just more than $30,000. Not a great deal of money by most tracks’ standards, but definitely put to good use by the Guard.

The bigger picture shows that people felt connected to something much bigger than themselves. That this drama played out at Portland Meadows, a Magna Entertainment-owned facility facing extinction, is even more remarkable. Sometimes the little guy has something to show the rest of the world.

People who make up Portland Meadows, that is, those who attend the races; those who own, train, and ride the horses; and those who work there just might be having a little more fun than those at larger venues.

I loved Silverbulletday in the Kentucky Oaks (gr. I), but I have no silver bullet now. No magic words, no “easy button” for the ills of Thoroughbred racing. Still, I know what I know. Make the sport user-friendly. Don’t underestimate the sensibilities or intelligence of the audience. Learn from the past, but usher in a future that’s inclusive. Have one national racing channel. Stop the glut of racing that only underscores an inferior product. Races with five-horse fields and a scratch or two cannot continually be offered to the public. Embrace the aesthetic and the natural drama. They are the hook.

Finally, and just for fun, think of the two 2008 Eclipse winners for older male and older female. Take the last two letters of his name and then the first three letters of her name. Form two words. (While eating a blackberry) you’ll find the answer.

Bruce Greene is a former correspondent for The Blood-Horse who now lives and writes in Portland, Ore

Pure Sport - by Jess Jackson

Blood-Horse Staff — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 14:17:00 GMT

As 2008 draws to a close, so too does the racing career of Curlin. What a joy it has been to participate in his racing career. We saw not only what this great horse could accomplish on the track, but the bond he forged between himself, his team, the fans, and the sport. I will always remember the applause Curlin received in every paddock around the world.

To me, Curlin is so much more than one of the greats. He has also become a bonded and trusting friend. Many a horse owner has undoubtedly experienced what we have: a personal relationship of affection and trust between Curlin, myself, my family, and every member of our team. We gained his trust and he has been eager to satisfy; he has been loyal.

I recall once, after I hadn’t seen him in a while, I went to Curlin’s paddock before a major race and held my hand high to pet him. Instinctively, a horse, especially an alpha male, will raise his head over an upstretched hand and display his game intensity. Curlin, however, just lowered his head and threw it over my shoulder to let me scratch his mane. Often he would nicker his greeting as you approached, sometimes before he even saw you.

So it is with both great pride and some melancholy that I reflect upon his retirement. It has been, after all, an amazing and rare ride that one comes to appreciate even more as it ends. As I reflect upon what Curlin, Steve Asmussen, Robby Albarado, Scott Blasi, Carlos Rosas, and the whole team has achieved, I especially want to extend my deep gratitude to Curlin’s fans. In the end, we ran Curlin as much or more for the enjoyment and inspiration of the fans and sport than for ourselves.

Curlin ran for the fans, for the sport, for his own pleasure of competition, and, I believe, to express his loyalty and desire to please.

He ran on all surfaces, in all weather, against all competition. He contended well and without much rest in two consecutive campaigns across two continents. In 21 short months of racing, he became the highest-earning horse in North American racing history—passing former record-holder, the great Cigar—while winning five of seven races in his second year of racing (a greater winning percentage than Cigar posted in his second Horse of the Year campaign). Had he continued to race, I am certain a rested Curlin would have added even more to his legacy.

For the good of the fans and the sport, I’m hoping horse racing will return to the love of the horse and the pure sport, the spectacle and the simple beauty of a Thoroughbred in motion. I hope too, that we will breed horses not only for speed, but for durability—something that will protect the athletes: our jockeys and our Thoroughbreds. I hope the industry will realize the importance of extending the racing life of Thoroughbreds so that fans can follow their stars beyond their third year.

We hope Thoroughbred owners will form their own racing league and appoint a commissioner, join with the tracks to market races for older horses, and work together to increase their stake of gaming revenue to allow the tracks and horse owners to prosper. Otherwise, I fear Thoroughbred racing will continue to decline.

Curlin epitomizes what we need from his genes. As he enters his new career, our goal now is to have Curlin contribute his brilliance, soundness, intelligence, and stamina to the breed. I am eager to see his colts and fillies race and hope to see one or more surpass his own prodigious achievements.

Curlin is a great racehorse, but he has also become a member of our family. None of us will forget the power, grace, and affection he brought to our lives. And for Curlin and our family, we thank his fans for the lifetime of memories they gave us.

Jess Jackson is the the founder of Kendall-Jackson wines and majority owner of Curlin.

Final Turn : curlin

In Zen - by Bruce Greene

Pure Sport - by Jess Jackson