Dreaming of the day when I might own my own legend-in-the-making. I never stopped watching the races on television, reading about Man O’ War and other horses on the Internet or in books. I stopped going to the track so much, and later had my son, Max. When my parents divorced in the 1990s, I was living in Los Angeles, and my dad moved to Las Vegas. I wrote a front-page feature story for the San Diego Union-Tribune about my love of going to the races with my father. We went to the Del Mar racetrack with my family throughout the 1980s and 1990s. I cried, and I’m pretty sure my dad cried, too. He blasted through the finish line, leaving his poor rival, Sham, so far behind. I sat in front of the television during the Belmont Stakes with my dad as the big red superhorse moved like a “tremendous machine”. I watched the newer legends-in-the-making when they took to the tracks, including Secretariat’s run for the Triple Crown in 1973. Instead, I continued to read about the older legends and greats. Riding horses became a thing of the past, and as for becoming a jockey? Well, let’s just say I outgrew that desire physically, having little athletic skill, even if I never did emotionally. I had been writing since childhood and already knew my career would be as a writer. Until I discovered boys, went to college and got a job. In my teens, I moved from New York to San Diego and kept riding for a few years. I was terrified as I held on for dear life over those three-foot “baby” fences. They seated me on spirited, hot-blooded Thoroughbreds. Later I went on to ride hunter/jumper at a posh stable in New Jersey I was pretty sure my parents could barely afford. The closest I could get back then to becoming a jockey was to ride old, but sweet Morgan horses at a local New York stable. None of my friends wanted to talk about why Man O’ War was the best that ever lived, or how Whirlaway got his funny name, or why Stymie was considered a throw-away horse until he showed his true talent. However, my real heroes had four legs instead of two and sometimes it made me feel like an oddball. Oh, I loved a handful of pop stars like every other growing girl. Man O’ War became my childhood hero, my idol. He exuded greatness and his eyes expressed a fierce passion to run, and win. He was big and powerful, muscled, and strong. I read every book at the local library on horses and eventually became enamored, just like my father, with the racing greats. My own obsession with horses began as a child. But if you asked him to name his top three, he would say, “Man O’ War, Citation, and Secretariat”. In 1973, he added Secretariat to that list, and over the years, a host of others. The one he considered the best that ever lived, Man O’ War, filled the top slot. His reverence was most noticeable for two horses in particular. He was a scientist who loved horse racing, talk about the “great ones.” He named off horses like Eclipse, Exterminator, War Admiral, Count Fleet, Whirlaway, War Admiral, Stymie, Swaps, Gallant Fox, Sir Barton, and others. The sweet, rarified air breathed in by the mighty lungs of these three horses is air few will ever have the pleasure of experiencing.Īs a girl, I listened to my father. Even fewer have been ranked as “legendary”. Hundreds of horses raced before and after them.
Their stories are the reason why every major list of top racehorses, from the Bloodhorse Magazine Top 100 of the 20 th Century to those compiled by ESPN and various sports and racing publications, always feature the same three names. In anticipation, we're analyzing several intriguing head-to-head match-ups.
Saturday's Kentucky Derby: Triple Crown Showdown will help raise $2 million for COVID-19 emergency relief efforts!
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