Show Me The World Stage

[Kenren]

Show Me The World Stage
Sugar Jayde & Minske Mavecci

After finishing off the works at Valkyrie, Minske had hopped in the truck and made the drive to The Wire, where the farm's Dubai bid had been stabled for over a week. Everyone was anxious to see how their top-class horses would perform both against the type of track they had rarely seen, if ever, as well as some top competition they had never faced before. It was the type of race that had everything and nothing on the line - it didn't truly hurt a horse's record (it was easy enough to blame a loss on the surface) but it could be a monumental win to whoever pulled it off. Minske knew his father was more focused on getting the horse out of the race safely than anything - that was why he'd had Sugar Jayde up here all week, jogging her over the surface and getting her used to the weak footing. Her first major work on it would come today, with Minske aboard. It was the boy's job to focus on winning and getting the mare into the right mindset before potentially the biggest race of her career. Everything, and nothing. Though he certainly hoped to cross that wire first, all things considered.

Now Minske was in the mare's stall, finishing tacking her while his father stood outside the stall. The mare was watching him with some curiosity, but mostly she knew the drill by now. Smiling, Minske reached up and rubbed the pretty, heart-shaped star on the bay's head. He'd never met the dam, but he was told the marking had come from her. Jayde had only been with them a short time, on lease from Stride of Perfection Stables, but Minske had to admit he was getting attached already. Not only was the mare entirely sweet and confident, but she'd already begun to prove herself - her first race of the year may have been an easy one for her, but it had definitely proven to the staff that the stable change had done nothing to her ability to get the job done. She seemed altogether quite comfortable. "We're just going to give her something easy. That race last week was her real work - this is to get her ready to run in that deep... stuff." Minske smiled to himself, though his face was to the mare as he cinched her saddle. His father hadn't been shy in voicing his displeasure about running horses in the deep footing. Minske couldn't blame him - while breakdowns were a lot less likely in soft footing, bowed tendons and soft tissue lamenesses were altogether too likely. They could only hope that Jayde's conditioning to it would keep her from straining too hard. "The times will be slower," Minske commented as they began walking down the aisle. Jayde was all politeness, though her ears pressed forward, knowing exactly where she was going. Cole shrugged. "It's not the times that matter, it's who comes out in front. And who comes out in front will depend on who takes to the surface." Cole didn't especially care about an overall championship that needed to find neutral footing, especially if the horses likely wouldn't perform their best on it - but Minske was extremely excited to ride against the best horses, and Mae had insisted that they wouldn't be doing the mare justice if they missed a race like this. Despite all of his grumblings, Cole must have agreed. If he truly didn't want to run a horse, he wouldn't. Simple as that.

Eventually they made their way down to the track, and Minske immediately recognized some of the horses - and riders - out on the sand. No room to mess up, then, or be pegged a fool. Cole turned and gave his son a leg into the saddle, then finished up his instructions. "Like I said, go easy. She's got nothing to prove in an exercise bout, and neither do you. Keep her fresh for the race. A nice gallop beforehand and a three furlong breeze should be fine. Don't push her, just let her go as fast as she's comfortable with so she can get used to it." Minske nodded, gathering the reins and urging the mare through the gap. He immediately noticed a difference in the surface to the dirt and turf he had ridden on earlier. Jayde didn't seem to notice or mind that her hooves sunk in a little deeper, or that her steps were just a little slower moving forward. Perhaps that was half the battle won. Kissing to her, Minske moved her to a trot, keeping her going up the middle to stay out of the way of faster paces. She seemed to take a moment to really get comfortable in her stride, but soon she was moving with as much grace as normal. Trotting was easier, since she wasn't propelling herself on the loose surface as much as she would be at higher paces. After a minute or so he moved her into a canter. This time she seemed fine right off the bat, not needing to adjust much to get herself going. Her muscles strained and pushed more that on her normal turf, but so far it wasn't really affecting her. He suspected she was just that strong.

Finally, he asked her to to open into a gallop, moving a little closer to the rail, but keeping her just off of it. Race day would tell, but hopefully the inside lanes would be a little more packed than the outside ones. It would favor speed a lot more, and as Jayde preferred to be up toward the front, she'd want the best footing possible. Even the mare's slow gallop seemed fast, regardless of the surface she was moving on. She faster she went, the more she seemed to disregard what was under her hooves. They went around the far turn with much of the same - he saw her muscles pushing more than usual, but nothing she seemed to be bothered by. Finally, it was time to go. He checked behind him for traffic, then moved her to the rail. He didn't have to tell her to go - she knew what it meant. Given the green flag, the mare accelerated with every stride. It's wasn't the exceptional turn of foot he was used to from her, but the ground made it nearly impossible to do that. Instead, each stride brought her on like a freight train, accelerating to the speed that made the boy's hair whip and eyes sting from the wind. He leaned low on her neck, doing nothing to urge her, but not needing to either. The slack on the reins was enough. They powered by the wire, and Minske eased her off, not wanting to push her further with a gallop-out. She had sweat accumulating, but she still seemed eager, ears pressed to the front and brightness in her eye as she turned and glanced at him. He moved her back to the gap, where Cole was waiting. "She had to work harder, but it didn't seem to bother her," Minske said, and Cole nodded. "I think she'll do fine, but she'll be well and tired after the race. Win or lose, we can get her back to where she really belongs after this mess." Cole said it, but Minske noticed the small smile that his father himself probably didn't. Which mean her time was better than he'd been expecting. Smiling, the boy hopped off, held the mare while her father checked her legs meticulously. If all went well, she'd be fit as could be come the Sprint, and she'd just shown she was capable of tackling the dirt. As she was led away by hotwalkers, Minske couldn't help but think that Jayde had more than a fighting chance.