Original Face

Big Brown as Bobby Bonds?

    There is an old saying of a father to his son, giving the young man some life wisdom: "If a man come up to you in a bar and says that a bird will fly into a bar and poop in your ear in the next two minutes.  Do not take that bet, because as sure as you think you are, there will soon be a bird shitting on you and taking your money."  That caution against easy expectations was borne out again today, as Big Brown couldn't get it done in the Belmont Stakes.
    Unlike other Triple Crown wannabes it wasn't the 1 1/2 mile distance that caused Big Brown problems.  From the 1/8th pole, the horse looked off...his head was high and he was fighting the bit.  Looking at the replay I can't see anything that would throw him off stride, rather it seemed as if from the starting gate on, he wasn't really in the race.
    In the days ahead much will be made of the quarter crack in the left front hoof, but that problem couldn't have caused the type of race he ran today.  Instead the question is more was he "juiced" at the Preakness and the Derby?  Almost all states ban steroids in racehorses.  Surprise, surprise but that isn't the case in three of the major racing venues.  Wanna guess which ones? In Maryland and Kentucky the use of steroids is legal in horseracing.  It is also the case in New York.  But unlike the first two legs of the Crown, Big Brown hadn't been on steroids for several weeks.    Why did they lay off the needle?  Could it be that since steroids impinge wound healing, that the trainers and vets were concerned that the quarter crack might not be completely repaired with the steroids on board?  Was it because the media was beinging to wonder if Big Brown was really just Barry Bonds on four hooves, a talented but not talented enough athlete without chemical help?
    It probably will remain a mystery, but it does make one wonder.  If human athletes should not use steroids, that should also be the case for equine athletes as well.  Watch for Kentucky, Maryland and New York to follow the example of the other states and ban steroids in equine athletes.

   

Goodbye, Bonnie Grey.

    I said goodbye to Bonnie Grey today.  Tomorrow or the next day the horse van will come to the barn and take her to Virginia where she will live out the rest of her days with 100 other horses.  Southern Virginia is warm, and her farm just takes care of retired horses so she will be treated right.  No longer will the winter months cause her to become lame.
    Bonnie is a great horse.  Not just because I love her and she, I like to believe, me--in whatever way horses have to show care for their human.  No, she is objectively a great horse.  In the 2002 US Open Polo Championship, the Super Bowl of polo, Bonnie played not the usual one period (chukker) but two, including the critical final period.  She came in as first alternate horse of the match.  I had a chance to speak to her owner years later and tell him that I now had Bonnie.  "Bonnie?  Oh, I called her Anna.  She has the biggest heart of any polo pony I have played."
    By the time she came to me her high goal polo career was gone.  But her heart never flagged.  She has forgotten more about that game than I will ever learn.  She knew before I did where the ball would go, how the play would develop.  There was a tacit understanding between us--"I will get you to the play, you just have to make it once we're there."  And when I didn't--when i had blown the shot or missed the hook, she would snort, knowing and letting me know that I hadn't kept my part of the bargain.  She loved the game.
    More importantly, she has been my friend, my therapist, my playmate on the trails, in the barn or on the field.  She knew when my spirits were flagging or I was getting too full of myself and would take necessary corrective action to restore equilibrium.  I do not regret a moment I have spent with her over these years.
    A Dios, Bonnie Grey.  I will never be able to thank you enough.

Hidalgo

Hidalgo should be an eminently forgettable movie.  It is both maudlin and dry simultaneously--which is quite a feat.  The true story of a Pony Express rider challenged to ride the endurance race to end all endurance races (the mother of all endurance races), the trans-Arabic Peninsula race, with his mustang, Hidalgo, the movie is only notable for the portrait of the bond between Frank Hopkins and his horse.  Fortunately, this is enough to save the film.

There is something special between horse and human.  Like a dog, the horse has a special sense of her human's emotional state.  I have found that Bonnie or Canela can humble me when I am haughty and can pick me up when I feel depressed.  They can be jealous (Canela will kick at her stall or turnout gate if I ride Bonnie before her), playful but they are always loyal.

I saw Hidalgo again the other night.  I recognized Hopkin's amazement as his horse, bleeding in his lungs from exertion, refused to give up even when Hopkins himself had done so.  I recognized both of my girls in that horse in the film.

As a polo player and a nascent eventer, horses are integral to my games. What makes these sports so wonderful is the dance between the two sentient beings--horse and human.  The horse is not simply a "go-machine,"  she is an equal partner in any success I might have in these endeavors.  And she knows it.  All I have to do is hit a wonderful shot (or blow one too!) and I can tell the emotional response of my mare.

Even more than my success or failure on the cross-country or polo fields, my life is literally in Canela's or Bonnie's ability to get me out of any mess in which I could find myself. I have complete confidence in Bonnie and Canela, the way Frank Hopkins had in Hidalgo.

So see Hidalgo.  So what if the person to person interactions are hackneyed and the characters are underdeveloped.  Watch it for the way a human and a horse can create a unbreakable bond.

Mares eat oats

I love mares.  A mare is a female horse and I own two of them, Bonnie Grey and Canella.  They have a spunk and piss n' vinegar style that makes me, as a polo player, excited to see.  Of course, some days, they can be moody and will tell their riders, in no uncertain terms, that they just aren't interested in listening to humans.  That is when my friends, who have geldings (males who have gone for a, shall we say, too close a shave down below), tell me I'm nuts for only playing mares.  They also point out that colts have more muscle mass and power.

Well, after today's Belmont Stakes, I can say, "Oh, yeah?"  Rages to Riches took on Curlin, the 6-5 favorite, in the stretch of the mile and half third leg of the Triple Crown and just wouldn't let the colt pass her. 

I know that somehow both Bonnie and Canella are aware of her victory.  When they get off the trailer at our next polo game they will neigh to their male competitors, "So how about that Belmont, eh?"