Post by creativecause on Jul 6, 2015 10:03:04 GMT -5
Fire Breather
Take Flight and Andrew Martin
Workout for the Breeders' Stakes
No, it's too much, burn my sun
Up in flames we go, you fire breather
The dark menacing form of Take Flight danced its way across the track at the crack of dawn. Summer was in its height, and thoroughbred racing was beginning to wind down from its late spring and early summer high. However, the Sprinter Triple Crowns and final leg of the Canadian Triple Crown was yet to be run. That was where Fly came in. Humiliated and pulling up second by a nose in each of the Turf Triple Crown races, Fly was out for his major three year old race win and the Breeders' Stakes was essentially his last chance. He wasn't a joke, and it was time that the racing world saw just exactly what this horse was made of.
The bay son of Merry Bay King lunged at the ground, letting out a blood curdling squeal. He was throwing his head wildly and chomping at the bit to run. He had begun his path to redemption with his comeback race where he handily defeated fellow entrant in the Breeders' Stakes Refute over the distance of twelve furlongs. Fly owned the turf over the longer distances especially twelve furlongs, and all of the other Breeders' Stakes entrants where in for a very rude awakening. This was Fly's race to win, but it was also his to lose.
Andrew pressed his colt up into a trot, which Fly willingly responded to by doing as Andrew asked, but as quickly as humanly possible. It was choppy, and nearly a canter, an odd looking gate that didn't even look like it belonged to a horse. "Take it easy you fire breather." Andrew called to Fly.
The colt flicked his ear back, waiting for the cue to run. He was tugging at his bit and throwing his head as much as his bib martingale would allow. Andrew turned the feisty colt in a few quick circles, catching Fly's attention and getting him to quit acting like an idiot. He asked for the trot again as they went past the grandstand.
Andrew smiled at the colts pure strength, he quivered with anticipation, but he was as focused as Andrew had ever seen him. Fly knew he was in a detrimental time of his career that could make or break him. He let out a loud whinny when he passed the grandstand to announce his arrival to the small crowd waiting to see the son of Merry Bay King work that morning. He was demanding that everyone pay attention to his upcoming work. Fly desperately wanted to prove himself further and Andrew expected he would do just that today.
His powerful muscles bunched up as he ducked his head in a beautiful arch. His ears were perked, Andrew had his full attention. He trotted along the outer edge of the track, the sunlight playing across his perfectly sculpted features. Fly was nothing short of majestic, and the sheer waves of determination and power that radiated off of him was enough to daunt anyone. It was as if this horse couldn’t get any better.
Andrew smirked at the admiring expressions of the reporters in the stands, they were in for a show today. He pushed Fly into a canter and easily absorbed the shock of his legs striking and leaving the ground with his legs. Fly tugged on his bit and was begging for more rein. “Hold on buddy, we’re almost there.”
Once they finished Andrew lined the colt up with the gate and he easily went in with his game face on. Fly expertly chewed the bit around in his mouth, muscles tingling with excitement of what was about to come.
The gates clanked open and Fly was like the water bursting from a dam that had just shattered into millions of pieces. Out in a matter of seconds and already tugging hard on the bit. Andrew almost let the colt go early just out of curiosity of what he could do. Andrew could tell he was sick of being undermined by the fillies and his nieces and nephews, it was his time to shine and he was making sure everyone knew it.
He switched leads and cranked up his already powerful gallop. He’d become a bit lathered in sweat but it wasn’t nerves, he was working that hard. Andrew’s heart swelled with pride at the colts effort. He really wanted to improve, he wanted this season to be his best, and Andrew would try his gosh awful hardest to make that true for the colt. He believed that this horse was more than capable of winning the Breeders' Stakes and he would. Maybe others didn’t believe that he could but Andrew didn’t care about that because he knew better.
Fly practically left his tail in the dust at the rate he was going, he looked every ounce the blue blooded animal he was. The eight furlong work was nearly over already and clumps of turf few in Fly’s wake, long forgotten.
Andrew was smiling like a fool when they came into the final furlong and he let Fly have his whole head. The acceleration was instant. One of the many reasons why he loved this colt was because of this very closing kick he was experiencing right now. The one that could make up ten lengths in just a short few strides. They hit the wire in a flashy 1:34 2/5.
The bay son of Merry Bay King lunged at the ground, letting out a blood curdling squeal. He was throwing his head wildly and chomping at the bit to run. He had begun his path to redemption with his comeback race where he handily defeated fellow entrant in the Breeders' Stakes Refute over the distance of twelve furlongs. Fly owned the turf over the longer distances especially twelve furlongs, and all of the other Breeders' Stakes entrants where in for a very rude awakening. This was Fly's race to win, but it was also his to lose.
Andrew pressed his colt up into a trot, which Fly willingly responded to by doing as Andrew asked, but as quickly as humanly possible. It was choppy, and nearly a canter, an odd looking gate that didn't even look like it belonged to a horse. "Take it easy you fire breather." Andrew called to Fly.
The colt flicked his ear back, waiting for the cue to run. He was tugging at his bit and throwing his head as much as his bib martingale would allow. Andrew turned the feisty colt in a few quick circles, catching Fly's attention and getting him to quit acting like an idiot. He asked for the trot again as they went past the grandstand.
Andrew smiled at the colts pure strength, he quivered with anticipation, but he was as focused as Andrew had ever seen him. Fly knew he was in a detrimental time of his career that could make or break him. He let out a loud whinny when he passed the grandstand to announce his arrival to the small crowd waiting to see the son of Merry Bay King work that morning. He was demanding that everyone pay attention to his upcoming work. Fly desperately wanted to prove himself further and Andrew expected he would do just that today.
His powerful muscles bunched up as he ducked his head in a beautiful arch. His ears were perked, Andrew had his full attention. He trotted along the outer edge of the track, the sunlight playing across his perfectly sculpted features. Fly was nothing short of majestic, and the sheer waves of determination and power that radiated off of him was enough to daunt anyone. It was as if this horse couldn’t get any better.
Andrew smirked at the admiring expressions of the reporters in the stands, they were in for a show today. He pushed Fly into a canter and easily absorbed the shock of his legs striking and leaving the ground with his legs. Fly tugged on his bit and was begging for more rein. “Hold on buddy, we’re almost there.”
Once they finished Andrew lined the colt up with the gate and he easily went in with his game face on. Fly expertly chewed the bit around in his mouth, muscles tingling with excitement of what was about to come.
The gates clanked open and Fly was like the water bursting from a dam that had just shattered into millions of pieces. Out in a matter of seconds and already tugging hard on the bit. Andrew almost let the colt go early just out of curiosity of what he could do. Andrew could tell he was sick of being undermined by the fillies and his nieces and nephews, it was his time to shine and he was making sure everyone knew it.
He switched leads and cranked up his already powerful gallop. He’d become a bit lathered in sweat but it wasn’t nerves, he was working that hard. Andrew’s heart swelled with pride at the colts effort. He really wanted to improve, he wanted this season to be his best, and Andrew would try his gosh awful hardest to make that true for the colt. He believed that this horse was more than capable of winning the Breeders' Stakes and he would. Maybe others didn’t believe that he could but Andrew didn’t care about that because he knew better.
Fly practically left his tail in the dust at the rate he was going, he looked every ounce the blue blooded animal he was. The eight furlong work was nearly over already and clumps of turf few in Fly’s wake, long forgotten.
Andrew was smiling like a fool when they came into the final furlong and he let Fly have his whole head. The acceleration was instant. One of the many reasons why he loved this colt was because of this very closing kick he was experiencing right now. The one that could make up ten lengths in just a short few strides. They hit the wire in a flashy 1:34 2/5.
