AMERICAN DREAM
Firestone Racing definitely did not have as many juveniles as many other barns that raced on the GHF/TW tracks, but Carter didn’t need that many anyways. His two last juveniles were being lead to the track and they looked like they were ready to rock. Mistweaver’s black tail flared out behind her and was swishing a million miles an hour. She was dancing on her toes and chewing on the bit as her groom focused her on walking forwards to the track. Patriot was dancing along beside Hunter as he showed off for the filly parallel to him. The bay colt kicked out excitedly, eager to get a feel for the turf under his hooves.
Talia and Devon stood on either side of Carter waiting for their mounts. They were both bundled up in layers; the mild winter sun doing nothing to warm them up. Puffs of steam escaped the horses’ nostrils as they were stopped in front of the head trainer. Carter looked at the two bay horses before nodding approvingly. The Everyday Hero son looked tall, dark, and unbelievably handsome, and Devon was surprised he was even allowed to ride a HoF descendant.
“You think Pat’s gonna be just like his father?” Devon broke the silence, looking at Carter with hope in his eyes. The trainer chuffed, smiling to the jockey.
“He could be like his momma, too. She was a fireball on the track. Can’t forget old Fallen there,” Carter’s voice was teasing. Devon shrugged, a sheepish look crawling onto his face. He knew the colt did have it in him, and if he was anything like his prospect results, Firestone knew they had another winner on their hands.
“I dunno, I think Hunter over here is gonna be one to beat on the tracks, too. It may take a couple of tries, but she’ll do it.” Talia chimed in, looking over her sprinter filly with admiration. Her parents were completely off the charts - nobody knew who High Storms or Dream of Victory were, but both Talia and Carter hoped that the filly didn’t have to have brand name parents to do well - like Red Herring as an example.
Before Carter gave the two jocks a leg up, he turned his back to the sudden gust of wind and motioned for them to come closer. “Now, Pat likes longer distances, but Hunter is a sprinter. We’ve got a compromise here; take them four furlongs with gates and let them figure it all out. When they do, we’ve got some winners on our hands.” Carter rubbed his hands together before signalling the jockeys to move to their horses. He gave both of them legs up and they were on their way to the now thawing turf. Hunter’s tail swished hastily behind her as they trotted down the outside rail of the Firestone track.
Pat’s long strides made him look like he was moving slower than the bay filly beside him, but he looked pretty while doing it. Devon smiled underneath his face warmer. The colt was definitely showing off for Hunter, but she was doing nothing to acknowledge his presence. She moved well underneath Talia and showed no signs of stiffness. The two horses cantered their way to the gates and were stopped before. Surprisingly, Hunter went into the little chute with no problems and Pat was the one to balk slightly. With a few more tries, he reluctantly loaded and they were all set to break.
In a flash of brown and black, the two horses were released from the gates and shot off down the turf. The pace was automatically slow and Pat was forced to take the lead right off the bat. Pat cruised in front comfortably, hugging the rail tightly. Hunter wasn’t far behind him, her nose against his flank, ears pinned against her head. Talia kept her in line as they made their way around the first turn. Pat’s large strides carried him forwards coming out of the turn, and Carter couldn’t help but think he was going slow, but when he compared how hard Hunter’s legs were working to Pat’s, he realized that they were going at a blazing speed. His eyes widened as the pace opened up and the horses came into the home stretch.
Talia let Hunter have her head and she kicked into another gear, now at Pat’s head. Devon looked over and saw the filly starting to pass them, so he asked Pat to give him some more. The colt responded quickly, his strides elongating in a heartbeat. Three furlongs passed, one was left. Both jockeys stayed firmly in their position after that last surge, definitely not slowing but both knew now was not the time to make their move. They waited. Hunter began pulling on the bit slightly, eager to make her run past the colt.
The sun beat down on the soft turf as they rounded the corner, blinding as they turned onto the straight. Now it was time. Devon allowed Pat to move forwards. The bay colt hugged the rail even harder and shot forwards, slowly inching away from Hunter and Talia. The filly was not happy and Talia could feel her fighting. Without another thought, the jockey crouched lower in the saddle and urged Hunter forwards. The bay filly took straight to it and matched Pat’s pace as she gained on him. Hunter did not allow Pat to gain any more distance, but neither did Pat gain any more distance over Hunter. The two juveniles battled it out, and Hunter was able to get a slight advantage over the router colt. If the workout had been longer, Pat would have secured the winning position, but Hunter was in her element in the sprinter distances and was able to get the workout ‘win’.
The two horses were brought back to Carter and the trainer couldn’t look more satisfied with his crop of juveniles. He nodded to the jockeys, who smiled back in unison, patting their mounts respectively. Firestone was ready to take on the new year with a bang.
Talia and Devon stood on either side of Carter waiting for their mounts. They were both bundled up in layers; the mild winter sun doing nothing to warm them up. Puffs of steam escaped the horses’ nostrils as they were stopped in front of the head trainer. Carter looked at the two bay horses before nodding approvingly. The Everyday Hero son looked tall, dark, and unbelievably handsome, and Devon was surprised he was even allowed to ride a HoF descendant.
“You think Pat’s gonna be just like his father?” Devon broke the silence, looking at Carter with hope in his eyes. The trainer chuffed, smiling to the jockey.
“He could be like his momma, too. She was a fireball on the track. Can’t forget old Fallen there,” Carter’s voice was teasing. Devon shrugged, a sheepish look crawling onto his face. He knew the colt did have it in him, and if he was anything like his prospect results, Firestone knew they had another winner on their hands.
“I dunno, I think Hunter over here is gonna be one to beat on the tracks, too. It may take a couple of tries, but she’ll do it.” Talia chimed in, looking over her sprinter filly with admiration. Her parents were completely off the charts - nobody knew who High Storms or Dream of Victory were, but both Talia and Carter hoped that the filly didn’t have to have brand name parents to do well - like Red Herring as an example.
Before Carter gave the two jocks a leg up, he turned his back to the sudden gust of wind and motioned for them to come closer. “Now, Pat likes longer distances, but Hunter is a sprinter. We’ve got a compromise here; take them four furlongs with gates and let them figure it all out. When they do, we’ve got some winners on our hands.” Carter rubbed his hands together before signalling the jockeys to move to their horses. He gave both of them legs up and they were on their way to the now thawing turf. Hunter’s tail swished hastily behind her as they trotted down the outside rail of the Firestone track.
Pat’s long strides made him look like he was moving slower than the bay filly beside him, but he looked pretty while doing it. Devon smiled underneath his face warmer. The colt was definitely showing off for Hunter, but she was doing nothing to acknowledge his presence. She moved well underneath Talia and showed no signs of stiffness. The two horses cantered their way to the gates and were stopped before. Surprisingly, Hunter went into the little chute with no problems and Pat was the one to balk slightly. With a few more tries, he reluctantly loaded and they were all set to break.
In a flash of brown and black, the two horses were released from the gates and shot off down the turf. The pace was automatically slow and Pat was forced to take the lead right off the bat. Pat cruised in front comfortably, hugging the rail tightly. Hunter wasn’t far behind him, her nose against his flank, ears pinned against her head. Talia kept her in line as they made their way around the first turn. Pat’s large strides carried him forwards coming out of the turn, and Carter couldn’t help but think he was going slow, but when he compared how hard Hunter’s legs were working to Pat’s, he realized that they were going at a blazing speed. His eyes widened as the pace opened up and the horses came into the home stretch.
Talia let Hunter have her head and she kicked into another gear, now at Pat’s head. Devon looked over and saw the filly starting to pass them, so he asked Pat to give him some more. The colt responded quickly, his strides elongating in a heartbeat. Three furlongs passed, one was left. Both jockeys stayed firmly in their position after that last surge, definitely not slowing but both knew now was not the time to make their move. They waited. Hunter began pulling on the bit slightly, eager to make her run past the colt.
The sun beat down on the soft turf as they rounded the corner, blinding as they turned onto the straight. Now it was time. Devon allowed Pat to move forwards. The bay colt hugged the rail even harder and shot forwards, slowly inching away from Hunter and Talia. The filly was not happy and Talia could feel her fighting. Without another thought, the jockey crouched lower in the saddle and urged Hunter forwards. The bay filly took straight to it and matched Pat’s pace as she gained on him. Hunter did not allow Pat to gain any more distance, but neither did Pat gain any more distance over Hunter. The two juveniles battled it out, and Hunter was able to get a slight advantage over the router colt. If the workout had been longer, Pat would have secured the winning position, but Hunter was in her element in the sprinter distances and was able to get the workout ‘win’.
The two horses were brought back to Carter and the trainer couldn’t look more satisfied with his crop of juveniles. He nodded to the jockeys, who smiled back in unison, patting their mounts respectively. Firestone was ready to take on the new year with a bang.