Wise Dan Just a horse...but, oh my, what a horse!

                                                            

                                             WISE DAN

                                     

                   Just being a horse…but, oh my, what a horse!    

     

     Amy was in the barn awaiting our arrival, she and Charlie up now for goodness knows how long, certainly well before the winter sun’s first rays cohered to kindle a blush in the eastern horizon and thaw the chill from this early February morning.  We entered the barn and were led to the stall to greet the great one.   The converted old tobacco structure, while highly functional and meticulously maintained, from the outside gave little clue to being the winter domain of equine royalty.  Having visited him countless times during the dawning of a Keeneland morning, I have been unfailingly awed by his power, grace and majesty under tack and, along with the entire racing world, have repeatedly borne witness to his racing supremacy over these past five years, a career of such pre-eminence that he now unquestionably belongs to the pantheon of the racing immortals.  It was, thus, with no little excitement that I anticipated this visit.  With the sliding of the stall door, the big chestnut gelding, warmed by the cloak of a winter blanket, looked with reserved  interest at his visitors, offered no resistance as Amy snapped a rope lead-shank onto his halter, and walked quietly and willingly from his evening abode. 

     

     There was no rearing, biting, or similar worrisome mischief, no fighting or tugging necessitating forced restraint, no anxious moment of misbehavior.  This was Amy Lopresti with Wise Dan, she fully relaxed and confident in her champion, he totally at ease in his role, a palpable bond of great affection and respect quietly displayed for all to see.  Standing off to one side and carefully scrutinizing his famous charge stood Charlie Lopresti, trainer and principle custodian of this near national treasure, his eyes knowingly surveying the entirety of the big gelding then carefully fixating upon his fetlocks, here seeking any evidence which might prove a harbinger of some unwelcome complication with Dan’s convalescence from his now well-publicized non-displaced condylar fracture.  A knowing hand palpated for any suspicion of heat or effusion that might indicate any regression from Dan’s thus far excellent and uncomplicated recovery, but here a quick grin and knowing head-nod indicated his satisfaction.  Still being led by Amy, Dan reached to the ground and grabbed a mouthful of winter grass while Charlie analyzed his walk, again seeking any tell-tale sign of unsoundness. Happily finding none, Amy unsnapped the lead-rope from Dan’s halter and turned him loose.

     

     Experiencing the anxiety of the uninitiated, I here feared that upon release he might at this point suddenly explode in the air then, crashing to the earth, wheel and race across his 17 acre field, in so doing jeopardizing his fragile limb.  My concerns were quickly laid to rest.  Perhaps it is just his nature, or maybe he’s simply that smart, but Dan seems to look after Dan.  He immediately dropped his head for another mouthful of winter forage, then again looked up and turned to stare at his visitors.  In the adjacent field grazed his eminently talented but star-crossed older half-sibling, Successful Dan, and periodically Wise Dan would gaze over at his brother who was quietly enjoying the company of two fine fillies.  Now both these lads are geldings, so romance was certainly not his issue of interest. Perhaps Wise Dan was anticipating that time in the near future when he will share a field with his brother, the two of them surrounded by an adoring equine audience, they awestruck while the two Dans swap racing stories which, if the mood is quite right, they just might choose to embellish here and there!  Now the record books would suggest quite an advantage to the tales of Wise Dan, for few horses have been as accomplished as this fellow.  Those who knew Successful Dan, however, who really understood how very good he was, will tell you that on his best day on dirt, if free from his myriad of plaguing injuries, Successful Dan would push Wise Dan to his very limit.  Horses seem to have an implicit understanding about such things, of true talent, so the interchange between these two could be quite interesting!

     

     For now, however, Wise Dan seemed most content in hanging around Charlie and Amy and their guests, wandering over to find out what all the discussion was about, seeming here to be looking for a little attention, apparently well aware that he is the main attraction here just as he is everywhere else in the racing world.  Donning no shining, sleek summer coat crying racing fitness, he now sported a long winter shag, soft and almost fuzzy to the touch, evidence that he is allowed to be “just a horse” in this off season, tucked away at night and constantly monitored to be sure, but allowed full exposure to the winter elements during the daylight hours and treated in most ways like all the horses on this picturesque and beautifully maintained farm. 

     

     Encouraged by Charlie and Amy to approach Dan, I must admit to a special thrill as the greatest horse I have ever known allowed me to wrap my old arm affectionately around his gallant neck and give him a kiss on his velvety muzzle.  I stood in awe and wonder that this so very kind, gentle, and seemingly affectionate horse is the same majestic beast I have cheered on so many times, the same horse that Johhny Velazquez struggles mightily to restrain in the early goings of each race, the same red blur that charges down the stretch with wild abandon, forging between foes and making holes where none exist, bouncing off hedges and squeezing through invisible openings, ears pinned in fury, red fire blowing from flaring nostrils, the same grand champion who refuses…absolutely refuses…to be defeated!  But it is he, the truly great Wise Dan, just being a horse…but, oh my, what a horse is he!

     

     We clearly cannot know what the future will hold for Dan.  We can wish and hope, and each of us here has perhaps a different dream, but paramount for all is his well-being, his safety.  He has nothing more to prove on the track and anything more, particularly at his age, would be almost inconceivable…but, then again, he is Wise Dan!  Thus far his convalescence is said to be progressing well, his fracture healing with no evidence of any untoward happenings.  Hopefully it will continue thus and, if so, it is indeed possible that we might once again be graced by his presence upon the race course.  We must not lose sight of the fact however that, even without this injury to overcome, Wise Dan is now eight years of age, an age at which very few horses, even truly great horses such as he, have been able to successfully compete at the very highest level of competition.  There comes to all living things that ill-defined moment in time when the most subtle changes occur, initially undetectable and unmeasurable, but changes nonetheless that ultimately define the difference between victory by a forging head…or defeat by a quivering nostril.  Nobody understands this better than Charlie Lopresti and he is ever diligent in his responsibility to his noble warrior.  If there is any doubt about the adequacy of fracture healing, any concern about his capability to perform at his previous level, any lingering questions about his physical fitness or mental enthusiasm, then Wise Dan will race no more.  The concern, clearly, is that the aforementioned subtle changes might not be recognized until his decline is present for all to witness.  Charlie understands only too well Dan’s place in the annals of American racing, his yoke of responsibility to his famous charge borne with dignity and great awareness of duty, and he will knowingly do nothing to prejudice Wise Dan’s esteemed position in racing history.  The tears in Amy Lopresti’s eyes as she reminisces about what he has meant to them and the quiver in Charlie’s voice as he speaks of Dan’s courage and his ability to overcome the setbacks, both known and unknown to the public, speak volumes about the love these two special people feel for this equally special horse.  He has become part of their family and will remain so throughout all their lives. 

     

     That Wise Dan is in the very best of hands is an absolute truth.  His legion of fans should take comfort in this fact and understand that whatever may come, regardless of whether or not he ever races again, tremendous thought and consideration has been put forth into any determination pertaining to Wise Dan… and then it is in the hands of the racing gods.  We pray they are as generous to Wise Dan as he has been to the world of racing.

Murray D. West

Paris, Kentucky

2-18-2015

Greatness Finds A Way

                                                                          Greatness Finds A Way 

                                         Wise Dan, Reigning Horse of the Year, Prevails in G2 Firecracker  

 The word is abused, overused, and misunderstood but when you see it, when you are in its presence and witness its defining moment, an instance so stirring as to make your heart race, your breath stop and your skin tingle, it all becomes so very clear.  Greatness.   So difficult to define but, when experienced, so clearly understood, so appreciated.

Some few  years back I clearly understood Rachel Alexandra was a filly of immense ability, her Kentucky Oaks victory a virtual “tour de force,” her dominance over her distaff competitors without question…but I understood her greatness, her true wonder, at Saratoga Racecourse in the Woodward Stakes where, competing against the top older colts in our land, she withstood onslaught after onslaught, throwing challenger after challenger aside,  absolutely refusing to be defeated,  her exhaustion from that heroic effort forever to impact her, indeed, forever to impact me.

Forego, four decades ago, time after time answered the call, conceding ridiculous weight advantages to his opponents yet somehow almost always finding a way capture the glory.  So many incredible races and yet one such effort, in my mind, defines his absolute magnificence.  In the era prior to the Breeder’s Cup, the G1 Marlboro Cup run at 1 ¼ miles was considered to be one of the most defining championship events on the racing calendar.   In October of 1976, the marvelous gelding Forego was asked to concede 18 pounds, 137 to 119, to the outstanding 3 year old colt Honest Pleasure, he the previous year’s Champion 2 year old, and winner already in 1976 of 4 Grade 1 races, including the Flamingo, Florida Derby, Bluegrass, and Travers Stakes.  Furthermore the track this day was a sea of slop, a surface that the huge and terribly arthritic Forego found very difficult to manage.  Hopelessly behind and floundering in the mud with ¼ mile to run, this grand old warrior was moved to the middle of the track as they entered the stretch and, somehow reaching within to grasp that special something that defines the truly great, suddenly exploded down the stretch, his huge strides creating waves of slop behind him, his rider Bill Shoemaker moving with him as one, his giant nostrils thrust to the fore one jump before the wire, victory his in the outstanding time of 2 minutes flat…under 137 pounds!  Every reason for defeat, no stature to be lost in defeat, but he would have none of it!

Seattle Slew is most certainly best remembered for his Triple Crown exploits, being the only undefeated winner of this elusive crown.  As great as his Triple Crown effort was, however,  his greatest and most defining moment  may well have come in the Jockey Gold Cup run at 1 ½ miles on October 14, 1978.  As was his forte he jumped quickly to the lead but was immediately and unexpectedly joined by the most recent of our Triple Crown winners, Affirmed.  The latter, it was subsequently revealed, was running essentially out of control, the victim of his saddle slipping.  Seattle Slew too paid the price for Affirmed’s misfortune, as the two set blistering, near impossible, fractions for this arduous test of stamina, with the quarter and half mile splits even quicker than Secretariat’s Belmont Stakes some 5 years earlier.  The older Seattle Slew finally disposed of his courageous younger Crown bearer, but the exhausting pace had taken a great toll on “Slew.”  Moving from well off the tiring speed duel up front, the outstanding European import, Exceller, closed resolutely to catch the tiring Seattle Slew, and by mid-stretch had opened a clear advantage.  Again however, reaching deep within, Slew found that hidden reserve bequeathed to only the special ones and, as the wire approached, suddenly Exceller’s  ½ length lead was now a neck, then a head ,then a nose, then…then the wire, an instant too soon for the storybook ending.  Defeated by a nose, yes.  Glorious in defeat, most definitely, with absolute greatness proven beyond any doubt this day.

And so to Churchill Downs this past Saturday, June 29, 2013.  Our reigning Horse of the Year, Wise Dan, was to run in the G2 Firecracker Handicap against a fine field of turf specialists, a notch below the best to be sure, but nonetheless including emerging potential stars and cagey old class horses.  Included within the former grouping was the Claiborne color-bearer Lea, he the winner of 4 of 6 starts and considered by all as a major up and coming turf star, while the latter included the veteran Seruni and multiple graded stakes winner Daddy Nose Best.  Wise Dan, by virtue of his stellar resume, was asked to carry 128 pounds while conceding 11 to 15 pounds to his opponents.  Hesitant to participate given the weight spread and concern for subsequent weight assignments for the more critical races further along in the year, the decision was made by Wise Dan’s connections to reluctantly accept the challenge.  As misfortune would have it, several hours before the turf race the skies ominously blackened and soon The Downs was engulfed in a tremendous downpour, the deluge followed quickly by thunder and lightning displays that went on for seemingly an hour.   The turf, firm at the beginning of the race card, quickly became very wet and slippery, the footing questionable, the wisdom of running coming much into consideration.  Several scratched from the race and certainly most expected to see Wise Dan included in this group but, in the spirit of the sport, the major participants including Wise Dan and Lea entered the gate for the 1 mile turf test.  Breaking from the inside post, Wise Dan was quickly trapped along the rail, the veteran Seruni leading the pack while slowing the pace as much as feasible, with Dan directly behind and Lea lapped immediately to his outside.  With nowhere to go, jockey John Velazquez had his hands very full restraining Dan from running up on the heels of the dawdling Seruni immediately in front of him.  Approaching the ½ mile marker, it was clear that the strategy of all was to keep Wise Dan boxed in and out of the running for as long as possible then, when the restraints were released in the stretch, attempt to hold off his anticipated late charge with the hope being that the 128 pound burden would thwart his usual electrifying move.  Turning into the stretch the strategy was proving effective and  the situation looked dismal for the champion, for with 3/16^th mile remaining  he was still trapped behind horses, nowhere to run, and seeming destined to be defeated not by weight nor by superior horses but by circumstance and strategy.  Foolish us, for we speak here of Wise Dan and, for those of his ilk, defeat is not readily accepted.   Straightening off the turn into the stretch, a tiny gap, no more than a seam,  opened between the leading Seruni and the inside hedge and this was all that Dan needed.  With a lightning move that belied his weight burden Dan quickly struck the opening and forced his sleek chestnut body through the minimal gap.  So tight was the opening that Dan and Seruni collided, the effect throwing Dan into the hedge.  Likely enough to dissuade a mere mortal, for Wise Dan it served only as a catalyst, as he intensely continued his battle for racing room.  Now through, he quickly accelerated past his rivals and into the clear, within strides a narrow head becoming a one, then two length lead and, just that quickly, it was over.  With no stick necessary, jockey Velazquez kept looking over his shoulder for challengers but none could match his explosive turn of foot, his margin at the wire a measured 2 lengths while being eased.  Returning to the winner’s enclosure the laughing demeanor of jockey John Velazquez seemed in stark contrast to the anxiety written on the faces of trainer Charlie Lopresti and wife Amy.  “Surely, Charlie,” he seemed to be saying, “you never doubted the outcome? Never underestimate the wonder of greatness, my man.  And yours is a very great horse!”

The really special ones, the truly great horses, have a way of overcoming adversity and getting the job done.  Not as brilliant to be sure as his breath-taking Breeder’s Cup victory last year at Santa Anita, nor with the widening margins seen in so many of his Grade 1 wins, Wise Dan, with his show of pure guts and courage,  proved on this day that he is so much more than speed and brilliance and power.  What looked by mid-afternoon to likely become a rather dismal and forgettable day at the Downs proved, by virtue of his exceptional show of courage and strength, a most special day indeed.  Wise Dan delivered on this day a performance that I will never forget, an effort that exemplified all that is meant when one speaks of true greatness.   We are so fortunate to have him in our midst this day.

Murray D. West

Paris, Ky.

6-30-2013

 

                               Some shots from Keeneland breeze, Saturday, 6-15-2013, Damion up

 

 

 

               G2 Firecracker...the walk over...remember, night racing so the photos are compromised...give a fellow a little slack here!

                  A pensive look at the camera...maybe he's just used to seeing me in the mornings!

                                                                   To the paddock

                                                 Post parade...or, out for a swim!

                                                                                  The eye...

                       Past the stands the first time...and this is exactly where they kept him...

                                  until he found a seam along the hedge in upper stretch                                 

                                  Now asserting himself...note Johnny V's stick...not even cocked

                                                                         Quickly widens...

                                                                                    Alone...

                         The precise moment of greatness revealed...if there ever were any doubters!

                                                                               Returning...

                                                       The reigning Horse of the Year

                                            Johnny is all smiles...he never had a doubt.  We all did!

                                               Into the winner's enclosure...

                                                        And leaving...profile of greatness

                                               Amy and Charlie Lopresti still not ready to smile.

                    Charlie begins to relax and allow himself a little smile...Johnny V gives Amy a reassuring hug that the situation was always under control...yah, uhh, right Johnny!

Still a Shining Star...The Immortal Cigar!

The immortal, Cigar!

    
     For each of us, in our own very personal fashion, life is an ongoing battle, a struggle to balance responsibility and necessity with chance and desire, to temper the appetite for risk and adventure with a substantial dash of tincture of reality mixed gingerly with a dose of common sense.  In our youth, with ten thousand sunrises upon our horizon, balance allows the foolhardy adventure, the taking of frivolous chance, the quest of the improbable if not impossible dream, for surely at this juncture time is our friend and ally, giving ample opportunity for pursuit and, if need be, also for recovery and realignment.  As the memory of youth fades and the certainty of tomorrow's sunrise lessens, this balance for most now shifts towards caution and conservatism, for while the dreams remain ever strong and demanding, time is no longer perceived as the friend of the player.  Perhaps it is awareness of such reality that fuels the fires of nostalgia and a yearning for some bygone era which, seen through aging eyes, appears as a better and more meaningful time in the annals of our endeavor.  Perhaps.

     It is through such aging eyes that my vision seeks to reflect upon a great horse from a time past, not so very long gone, but nonetheless a time to which the young of today cannot reflect through personal recall, but can partake through the wonder of digital technology.  The concept of equine perfection has been a not uncommon topic of late, with the exploits of grand Zenyatta captivating all, and now Frankel and Black Caviar giving fodder to such conversation.  Such has not always been the case, however, that exceptional horses, the very best of a generation, would so regularly flirt with perfection, at least not over any extended span.  The reasons for this are uncertain and most certainly multiple but perhaps it is not unlikely that the lack of true "handicap" races in our modern era contribute to these currently witnessed prolonged winning streaks.  In a bygone time of true handicap racing, the vastly superior horses of the day were assigned weights of such magnitude that eventually the playing field was equalled to the point where the hero would finally succumb, not to opposition, but to the intolerable burden of weight and weight discrepancy.  Over the years the concept of true handicap racing became unacceptable to horsemen and they began declining invitations to race under such tremendous weight disparity.  Racing secretaries, under pressure to have their track remain competitive, progressively succumbed to the demands of the horsemen and the days of the true weight carriers were soon history, the exploits of the likes of Kelso and Forego never likely again to be witnessed. 

     The period of the 90's witnessed this evolution, and fewer and fewer horses were allowed to answer the bell when asked to give significant weight to their challengers.  There remained, however, the occasional holdout, that trainer and owner who believed that glory lay in the challenge of overcoming adversity and, if such undertaking resulted in defeat upon the racetrack, there was honor in such defeat.  Such men were Bill Mott and Allen Paulson, trainer and owner respectively of the mighty Cigar.  From October 28, 1994 through July 13, 1996, this magnificent bay horse was the very essence of racing perfection, winning an incredible 16 consecutive races while competing against the finest horses in the world.  As victory followed victory, participation in successive handicap races demanded more and more weight and more and more weight discrepancy between he and his opponents.  His final two starts in this string saw him carry 130 pounds while dispatching his over-matched opponents with apparent disdain.  His streak finally came to an end at Del Mar in the G1 Pacific Classic, defeat coming not because of weight, but because of an unfortunate and infrequent riding error on the part of his Hall of Fame jockey, Jerry Bailey.  That he was able to put together such a string of perfection, in so doing matching that of the immortal Citation, stands as a testament not only to his courage and brilliance, but also to the sportsmanship of his owner Allen Paulson and the training expertise of his trainer Bill Mott and his outstanding supporting team.

     Cigar retired in 1996 after failing by a short head to win consecutive runnings of the G1 Breeder's Cup Classic.  With career earnings standing at a then record $9,999,815, and an astounding 13 Grade One victories (plus 3 others that merited G1 ranking but did not meet the day's criterion for such recognition, including the inaugural Dubai World Cup), Cigar was retired just $185 short of the seemingly magical $10,000,000 earnings mark.  It always spoke volumes to me about those handling his career that they said, "he may have lost just a little step," put his best interests first, and retired him so close to this number.  It is well documented how Cigar sadly proved sterile.  His infertility resulted in him becoming the property of his insurer and they, in turn, retired him to the Kentucky Horse Park where he has been available to the public on a daily basis for so many years now.

  
      I have made it a habit to make the short journey to see Cigar at least twice yearly, often more frequently, ever since his retirement.  I gaze upon his grandeur as he blissfully ignores me leaning on his fence, me uttering some silly words in a futile attempt to catch his attention, he all the while I'm sure silently chuckling at the old fool calling to him from the fence.  I like to think of it as a little game we play while he, for his part, gives me little or no thought at all.  As I gaze upon him, one of the truly great horses in the history of the American Turf, I wonder why many others, enlightened and highly knowledgeable horsemen, fail to appreciate his true wonder.  There are accomplished horsemen who have never even once visited him, yet they will race around to every stud farm in Central Kentucky to stare upon stallions who could not have even warmed Cigar up on their very best days.  For a horse so magnificent in appearance and so accomplished in his career, it amazes me that he is so seldom mentioned when discussion turns to the best of the best.  Let me assure you, and of this have no doubt, when a horse takes on the very best the world has to offer over a two year period while overcoming burdens of weight, international travel and a multitude of racing surfaces, and in so doing is victorious in 16 consecutive races while winning effectively 16 Grade 1 races in his career, there is no horse...NO horse... that ever set foot upon a racetrack that had best not fear him!

     This past Wednesday I attended the Kentucky Racing Commission's meeting pertaining to the phasing out of Salix (Lasix) in Kentucky.  Leaving the meeting, and so tired of racing politics and the perpetual bad mouthing of the racing industry, I felt the need for an uplifting experience and so went to visit my old friend.  I drove the 1/4 mile to the Hall of Champions where he resides, arriving just in time to see the great horse being shown to an adoring public, a public I might add that averaged around 60 plus years of age.  After watching him being shown I quickly moved to his paddock fence and readied myself and my camera for the moment he was turned loose.  As you can see from the accompanying photos, the old boy at 22 years of age still looks tremendous, moves as smooth as silk, and remains a tremendous figure of a Thoroughbred.  As I look upon him I reminisce about his greatness and cannot help but wonder if I will ever see such accomplishments again in my lifetime...and I wonder why the old hardboots can't see and appreciate his wonder to behold, all in their own backyard.  I always intended to go to Maryland to visit Northern Dancer but always put it off for some reason until it was too late and the old fellow had died.  Cigar looks great but he's not getting younger.  Do yourself a huge favor and take the trip to the Horse Park, bring your camera, and gaze upon true greatness and one of the finest horses America has ever produced.