Post by Cavallo on Aug 21, 2012 22:33:49 GMT -5
A win was well within their means. Michael could feel it. They had been sitting consistently in the money, but lately it seemed to be second place and Atropa was in a foul mood.
Nick Landing watched as the Requiem daughter tossed her head violently, with Michael maintaining control. Nick she's been pissed ever since last week. I've taken her on trails and breezed her...she just won't snap out of this until she reclaims her dignity on the tracks. He pressed the black bay filly forward as Nick nodded in agreement with Michael's assessment. The question wasn't if Atropa could win...it was more a matter of when. Nick had remembered his elation when Atropa had stormed down the stretch claiming first place over four year old experience horses. The last race she'd placed right behind Feline Frenzy, the oldest horse in the field...so Nick and Michael had taken the loss with perspective, but to Atropa a race was a race. And she didn't take losing well.
Michael breezed the two year old lightly, but it was a fight. She was more than edgy and each foreleg she thrusted forward with deliberate action and intention. She knew a big race was close at hand...she wasn't stupid and she clearly had her game face on.
Michael felt the raw volcanic emotion broiling beneath the surface. He smiled slightly...maybe that last second place was just what they needed to set this determined filly up for success.
The field for The Wire Finish Cup Juvenile was more than worthy competition. In the first gate there was Ventura, the SOPS owned filly had been doing well with three wins to her name and was consistently in the money. She was a stalker and was definitely one of the bigger names to watch. Then in gate three was the ARS owned, Jazzaway. He would be the front runner of the group. Michael had seen the bull-headed manner in which the colt ran and knew that though he may not be the biggest challenger statistically, he was not a horse to underestimate.
Nick watched from the rail as Michael wrapped up the warmup with the filly. She was all fire and determination and he hoped that all her work and experience and her new-found added determination would give her the edge she'd need to pull off this capable win. That plus it'd be nice for once to take home a win over SOPS - but that was only an added bonus. He was mainly concerned with breaking the filly out f her second place funk...she was capable of so much more.
The tectonic plates of emotion were shifting within the black bay as she fought for her head, but Michael refused to comply. Easy girl...we're just breezing today...save it for race day..
He eased his hand slightly on the reins and let her pick up her canter into a moderated gallop, her crown tossed briefly in wild disagreement. The benefit of running from behind was that you could watch everything and everyone. Atropa had a versatile range and even if the pace was fast and cruel, the eight furlongs was just a breeze for her...she'd have more than enough speed and stamina to take on any stored energy the challengers might have.
Michael knew that Ventura and her rider would be on the look-out for them and it'd be important to also not get caught behind Jazzaway in the finish. The three horse field was small though and Michael would make sure that his rocketing filly wouldn't get snagged in a bad play. He was more than confident that the filly could still take the win from the outside....if the call had to be made.
He felt the rocking motion and fed her a bit more of the rein, the last three furlongs a breeze. He let her fully extend, but didn't let her fully exhert herself. No...now was the time to be a good steward of her energy and raw emotion and determination. He pittied the horses who'd face her volcanic wrath as she erupted hopefully past the finish line to claim her win and end her curse...
One could only practice and hope....practice and hope and leave the rest up to fate..
Nick said a silent prayer as he watched the graceful Atropa sweep past in fine style..
Please let the odds be in our favor...
