Post by Kenren on May 12, 2015 22:05:00 GMT -5
Baciami & Halexia Suhail for the Belmont Stakes Stakes
He didn't think he'd ever seen Hal so absolutely furious. After the Preakness, she'd seen to Baciami, just as she did with all of her horses - nothing amiss, just cleaning him up and lathering him with attention before leaving the tired horse to his rest and the watchful eyes of the barn staff. He'd almost just let her be, but he knew how much this horse and this race had meant to her. While she seemed collected from the outside, he knew something didn't seem quite right. Then, in the by-then-empty jockey room, the dam had broken. Minske had found her throwing any object she could get her hands on, eyes blazing with a fury that was far beyond the insanely confident woman he was used to. She wasn't exactly trashing the room, but she was on the right track - and he knew she had the energy to go on for quite awhile if left to it. So he'd strode in, weathered her gaze full of rage, and said simply, "That's enough." The woman had paused, then slowly dropped the brush in her hand and slid down the lockers to the ground. He thought she might cry, as strange as that would be from her, but her eyes remained dry as she stared out at the scattered silks and equipment. "That wasn't him. He has every damned ounce of talent, and I failed him." She didn't look at her friend, but he could practically feel the self-loathing in her voice. He shouldn't be surprised, really - she fell in love with her horses, every one of them, the same way she did with every human companion she was fond of. All passion and love and, apparently, some fury. Minske wouldn't belittle her feelings by telling her there was nothing she could have done. Hindsight was 20/20, and he knew what it was like out there. So instead he crouched beside her, storm-blue eyes patient as always.
"You can't win them all, Hal. Nothing's ever handed to us, you know that. You've got to put this behind you and focus on the next step or there's no point in us continuing on at all." That, of course, caught her attention. If there was anything she hated more than losing, it was quitting. She gave him a small shove, eyes blazing with a different kind of light. "He's running the damned Belmont. Just try and pull him and see what kind of pain I put you through." She pushed herself back up to her feet and he stood as well, that infuriatingly knowing smile on his lips. She grinned at him in return, though it was still a little predatory. Grabbing his collar, she'd leaned forward and kissed him hard on the lips before breezing by him, all composure returned. "And don't look so smug," she shot back over her shoulder, but really he couldn't help it. It had taken so much longer to figure out Hal's triggers than it had a lot of the others. Being able to get her in the right mindset was quite the accomplishment.
And over the two weeks they had to prepare, Minske saw his hard work paying off. Hal had never been so focused and determined as she was when she was with Baciami. There was less of the lighthearted nonchalance she normally exhibited and more real attention to detail - both in the works and in the office. She'd been watching race tape of both Baciami's races and the races of the other runners. She recognized that they'd gotten off pretty easy in the Derby. For some reason Saintly Touch and Ultimate Revenge just hadn't fired, plus Baciami had just run one hell of a race before getting edged out by Speak Easy. In the Preakness, Saintly Touch and Ultimate Revenge had run back with gusto, and Hal had gotten complacent. She hadn't ridden Baciami the way she should have, and she could look at it analytically now instead of with just anger. However, she felt quite a bit of hope as well, now that she'd laid everything out. If the Belmont field remained as it had been in the Derby and Preakness, Baciami had as much of a chance as any of them. He'd beat them all before, and he could do it again. Speak Easy had beaten out Baciami in both the Derby and the Preakness, but Baciami had beaten him in the Florida Derby. Saintly Touch and Ultimate Revenge had obviously fallen below him in the Kentucky Derby. So could she say he would definitely win? No. But neither was Baciami to be discounted. He was just as talented and seasoned as any horse in the field and she would give him the ride he deserved this time around.
It was their last work before the Belmont, and Hal was taking Ami out solo this time. While Mourn had been a great workout partner until now, the woman wanted the chance to just ride her horse and focus on him. Minske had Ami's lead and Hal was in the saddle, the assistant trainer talking to the jockey as they walked down to the track. Ami was eager, more eager than he'd been before the Preakness - the bit of rest had done well by him. He'd been campaigned hard until now, and he'd gotten a full week of nothing but hand walking and jogs on the track before getting back in the swing of things. It showed in the brightness in his eyes and the eagerness in his form as he pranced along beside the man, tonguing the bit and already itching to be loose. "Well, you were right. Keep him away from the run and it just makes him more eager for it." Minske wouldn't have employed the strategy with many of their horses, but Hal had been insistent. She smiled now, patting the side of the big colt's neck. "It's kind of like that time I tried to be celibate for what was it - a month? But when the dam finally broke, it was really-"
"No. No, Hal, too much information." Minske made a face, and Hal just laughed. Minske couldn't deny it was nice to see some of the woman's normal nature coming back, even if her being so focused had been very productive. "Alright. Do you have a plan or are you going to wing it out there?" he asked as they got to the track and he took the lead off of Ami's bridle. However, instead of giving a real response, Hal just smiled as she urged the horse by and said, "Celibacy." As useless an answer as that was, Minske thought he knew what she meant.
He watched as the woman trotted the incredibly eager colt down the track. Then he looked around him. Only now did he take the time to admire the crowd Crown workouts tended to bring. And even just for a moment, all eyes were on the Valkyrie colt. He could hear the murmurs, both good and bad, and they were nothing he hadn't thought of himself. He wasn't seasoned enough. He was peaking too late. Poor Preakness performance. All valid, but he knew the colt was more than that. He was bred for greatness, and he was so much more prepared for this race than he had been the last. He hoped it would be enough. Turning back to the track, he watched as Hal let the colt into a canter. She was nearly standing in the stirrups to keep him from breaking into a gallop at first, though after a few strides he settled, jaw moving against the bit. Still eager, still headstrong, but more well-behaved than he'd been at the beginning of the year. Finally she moved him onto the rail around the clubhouse, and it looked like she was going to breeze him five furlongs. Ami practically dove into a gallop when she let him, though she still held him well back from where he wanted to be until they got to the five furlong pole. Then, like a rubber band stretched and primed, she let him go.
The colt surged forward with explosive acceleration up to a breezing pace. However, as Minske had suspected, she wasn't letting him go all the way. Instead of urging him forward, she was holding him back, just off the edge of his top speed. And Minske could tell the colt was not thrilled, but he was running with stretched strides, milking the most speed out of the rein he was given. And even then, with the woman holding him back, it seemed like he was flying. Baciami didn't care if he was a colt that no one had wanted, once. He didn't care if anyone outside of his connections wanted him to achieve victory in the coming race. What he did know was his competition, and he was coming after the colts that he'd raced against again and again. Minske could see the determination in his every stride, the frustration, the need for another fight. He could see the fury in his eyes when Hal pulled him up, easing him back after five furlongs without giving him the chance to truly let loose. He tossed his head, gaping his mouth against the bit's pressure. Hal was giving him reassurances, rubbing her hands on his neck and working whatever that magic was that she possessed. Slowly the colt calmed, but as Hal brought him back to the path and the onlookers, everyone could see that Baciami was on razor edge and competition-ready. While Hal took Ami to walk him out after a wink to Minske, one of the clockers walked over. "Wish we could've seen more speed out of him," the man ventured, and Minske just smiled back. "Don't worry. Come race day, you will."
"You can't win them all, Hal. Nothing's ever handed to us, you know that. You've got to put this behind you and focus on the next step or there's no point in us continuing on at all." That, of course, caught her attention. If there was anything she hated more than losing, it was quitting. She gave him a small shove, eyes blazing with a different kind of light. "He's running the damned Belmont. Just try and pull him and see what kind of pain I put you through." She pushed herself back up to her feet and he stood as well, that infuriatingly knowing smile on his lips. She grinned at him in return, though it was still a little predatory. Grabbing his collar, she'd leaned forward and kissed him hard on the lips before breezing by him, all composure returned. "And don't look so smug," she shot back over her shoulder, but really he couldn't help it. It had taken so much longer to figure out Hal's triggers than it had a lot of the others. Being able to get her in the right mindset was quite the accomplishment.
----------------------------
And over the two weeks they had to prepare, Minske saw his hard work paying off. Hal had never been so focused and determined as she was when she was with Baciami. There was less of the lighthearted nonchalance she normally exhibited and more real attention to detail - both in the works and in the office. She'd been watching race tape of both Baciami's races and the races of the other runners. She recognized that they'd gotten off pretty easy in the Derby. For some reason Saintly Touch and Ultimate Revenge just hadn't fired, plus Baciami had just run one hell of a race before getting edged out by Speak Easy. In the Preakness, Saintly Touch and Ultimate Revenge had run back with gusto, and Hal had gotten complacent. She hadn't ridden Baciami the way she should have, and she could look at it analytically now instead of with just anger. However, she felt quite a bit of hope as well, now that she'd laid everything out. If the Belmont field remained as it had been in the Derby and Preakness, Baciami had as much of a chance as any of them. He'd beat them all before, and he could do it again. Speak Easy had beaten out Baciami in both the Derby and the Preakness, but Baciami had beaten him in the Florida Derby. Saintly Touch and Ultimate Revenge had obviously fallen below him in the Kentucky Derby. So could she say he would definitely win? No. But neither was Baciami to be discounted. He was just as talented and seasoned as any horse in the field and she would give him the ride he deserved this time around.
It was their last work before the Belmont, and Hal was taking Ami out solo this time. While Mourn had been a great workout partner until now, the woman wanted the chance to just ride her horse and focus on him. Minske had Ami's lead and Hal was in the saddle, the assistant trainer talking to the jockey as they walked down to the track. Ami was eager, more eager than he'd been before the Preakness - the bit of rest had done well by him. He'd been campaigned hard until now, and he'd gotten a full week of nothing but hand walking and jogs on the track before getting back in the swing of things. It showed in the brightness in his eyes and the eagerness in his form as he pranced along beside the man, tonguing the bit and already itching to be loose. "Well, you were right. Keep him away from the run and it just makes him more eager for it." Minske wouldn't have employed the strategy with many of their horses, but Hal had been insistent. She smiled now, patting the side of the big colt's neck. "It's kind of like that time I tried to be celibate for what was it - a month? But when the dam finally broke, it was really-"
"No. No, Hal, too much information." Minske made a face, and Hal just laughed. Minske couldn't deny it was nice to see some of the woman's normal nature coming back, even if her being so focused had been very productive. "Alright. Do you have a plan or are you going to wing it out there?" he asked as they got to the track and he took the lead off of Ami's bridle. However, instead of giving a real response, Hal just smiled as she urged the horse by and said, "Celibacy." As useless an answer as that was, Minske thought he knew what she meant.
He watched as the woman trotted the incredibly eager colt down the track. Then he looked around him. Only now did he take the time to admire the crowd Crown workouts tended to bring. And even just for a moment, all eyes were on the Valkyrie colt. He could hear the murmurs, both good and bad, and they were nothing he hadn't thought of himself. He wasn't seasoned enough. He was peaking too late. Poor Preakness performance. All valid, but he knew the colt was more than that. He was bred for greatness, and he was so much more prepared for this race than he had been the last. He hoped it would be enough. Turning back to the track, he watched as Hal let the colt into a canter. She was nearly standing in the stirrups to keep him from breaking into a gallop at first, though after a few strides he settled, jaw moving against the bit. Still eager, still headstrong, but more well-behaved than he'd been at the beginning of the year. Finally she moved him onto the rail around the clubhouse, and it looked like she was going to breeze him five furlongs. Ami practically dove into a gallop when she let him, though she still held him well back from where he wanted to be until they got to the five furlong pole. Then, like a rubber band stretched and primed, she let him go.
The colt surged forward with explosive acceleration up to a breezing pace. However, as Minske had suspected, she wasn't letting him go all the way. Instead of urging him forward, she was holding him back, just off the edge of his top speed. And Minske could tell the colt was not thrilled, but he was running with stretched strides, milking the most speed out of the rein he was given. And even then, with the woman holding him back, it seemed like he was flying. Baciami didn't care if he was a colt that no one had wanted, once. He didn't care if anyone outside of his connections wanted him to achieve victory in the coming race. What he did know was his competition, and he was coming after the colts that he'd raced against again and again. Minske could see the determination in his every stride, the frustration, the need for another fight. He could see the fury in his eyes when Hal pulled him up, easing him back after five furlongs without giving him the chance to truly let loose. He tossed his head, gaping his mouth against the bit's pressure. Hal was giving him reassurances, rubbing her hands on his neck and working whatever that magic was that she possessed. Slowly the colt calmed, but as Hal brought him back to the path and the onlookers, everyone could see that Baciami was on razor edge and competition-ready. While Hal took Ami to walk him out after a wink to Minske, one of the clockers walked over. "Wish we could've seen more speed out of him," the man ventured, and Minske just smiled back. "Don't worry. Come race day, you will."
