PIMLICO IN ALL ITS GLORY THE BIG RACE

I enjoyed the train journey, as I had never been on a steam train before, I particularly liked the sound the train made on the rails; it was a hypnotic sound like didley dah didley dah. Fields rushed by, then small hamlets, then bigger towns and still the sound was with me didley dah didley dah; it was as though time was standing still as I peered through the not so clean train windows. Unfortunately, all good things have to come to an end, we pulled into Baltimore station, only to be greeted by thousands of well wishers, bulbs flashed from cameras, then a band started to blast out The Star Spangled Banner tune and all hell let loose, hats were thrown into the air and you could not hear yourself think for the cheering. This little horse was as popular as the president himself, tears flowed as I tried to grasp the magnitude of the occasion, I was with his entourage and I was so proud, looking across the railway coach Chanel had her hanky out sobbing her little heart out, like me she is a right old softy.

Jack and John had travelled with Sea Biscuit in the baggage car specially adapted for his journey, as usual his old buddy Pumpkin had made the journey with us and they both had hay, apples, anything in fact that their hearts desired, everything was laid on to make Sea Biscuit feel at home. I could not believe it, nothing seemed to faze him when he had plenty of company and he adored the multitude that had come just to catch a glimpse of him.

It was hours before we reached our home for the next few days, it was a lovely ranch just outside Baltimore, in fact about a half an hour from Pimlico itself, absolutely perfect for Sea Biscuit’s preparation for the big race. Sea Biscuit and Pumpkin sampled the lush grass of their new paddock while we unpacked; afterwards we girls were designated as cooks, as our own cook never travelled. I am good at chips, so eggs, bacon, sausages, some steak and of course beans made up our mixed grill and I must say we made a superb job of it, ice cream followed by mugs of coffee and then we were ready, as my Dad says, “To take on the world”.

The next three days raced by, everybody was so busy; I was mainly helping out with the specialised training for the start of the race. Sea Biscuit was ready there was no doubt about that, his starting was perfect now, so our main objective was to keep him happy and contented, that was Pumpkin and Jack’s job as he thought the world of them and he seemed so at ease with the pair of them around. I don’t know if Red had shown himself to Sea Biscuit but I would not be surprised, I know Red has a great influence over most animals, but there seemed to be a stronger bond than usual between the two of them.

At last the great day arrived, somebody must have tipped the newspapers off as to where we were, there were camera men everywhere, it was a good job we had arranged security for the last couple of days or the ranch would have been in chaos. As it was everything went smoothly and the security firm did us proud. You could tell the importance of the race, the police were out in force in cars and on motorbikes, along the route to Pimlico crowds cheered their hero, it was like a continuous carnival for the half an hour ride.

When we arrived there were still hours to go as the start of the race was 4pm, but the sooner Sea Biscuit got used to the surroundings the better, nothing was taken for granted right down to what he was going to eat before the race, it reminded me of a military operation, but as Tom says you can never be too careful.

Three thirty arrived and it was saddling time, I had the privilege of leading Sea Biscuit into the saddling enclosure where he was made to look the flamboyant horse he was, dressed in red and white with a large red number two on his blanket he looked a picture.

With ten minutes to the off I led Sea Biscuit into the parade ring where we got the first glimpse of War Admiral, dressed in black and yellow, he looked every inch the Horse of the Year and Triple Crown winner, he had the number one on his blanket as he was fortunate enough to draw the inside lane for the race. The bookmakers had made War Admiral a four to one on shot and Sea Biscuit a very tempting two to one.

George Woolf dressed in red and white strutted around as though he had not a care in the world, naturally this was all pretence just to make the opposition warier of the race situation. War Admiral’s jockey Kurtsinger, just back after injury smiled at Woolf, he was having none of it, he was far too experienced to let Woolf upset him. Both jockeys mounted their horses and sauntered down to the start taking in the atmosphere of over forty thousand fans making it impossible to hear a thing. Jack, John and Chanel were just as bad as we whistled and shouted our encouragement to our mate the incomparable Sea Biscuit.

The bell goes, the tape goes up, and they’re off. Jockey Woolf rousts up Sea Biscuit from his outside draw, he administers three sharp reminders, he gets first run on War Admiral who races tight to the inside rail. They have covered the first furlong of the nine and a half they have to race. It’s Sea Biscuit by a length as they past the winning post with a lap to go; Kurtsinger on War Admiral is prepared to play the waiting game. As Sea Biscuit takes the first turn the lead has stretched to a length and a half, Sea Biscuit strides out intending to make this a test of stamina- is Sea Biscuit going too fast? They passed the sixth furlong pole with a third of the race gone, War Admiral is beginning to close the gap on Sea Biscuit, the lead is less than a length as they gallop to the far turn at a furious pace. Jockey Woolf looks across at the motionless Kurtsinger as he moves up alongside Sea Biscuit; they are now neck and neck at the far turn, War Admiral just noses to the front but jockey Woolf on Sea Biscuit has the inside and drives back his mount to go back in front by half a length. Woolf glances across at Kurtsinger, gives him a derisory smile and a confident look of knowing that the race was won, they turned into the finishing straight with just over a furlong to run, Kurtsinger frantically tries to respond giving War Admiral the warmth of his whip, but Sea Biscuit quickens in impressive style to go two lengths as they pass the final furlong pole. The crowd go wild with excitement people run across from the inside track to get a closer look at the action, the packed grandstand erupts into a crescendo of noise as they cheer on their respective horses, Sea Biscuit storms to the winning line three lengths clear, then its four, it’s all over, despite War Admiral’s bravery he had no answer to Sea Biscuit as George Woolf blows a kiss to the crowd and raises his whip in victory, it’s a new track record. The legend that is Sea Biscuit had just begun, War Admiral lost nothing in defeat and this was an occasion to savour for the forty odd thousand people at Pimlico who witnessed this great race.

Forty million people had heard the race on the radio and President Roosevelt was late for an important meeting, such was the pull of this race and it gave the poor part of America a wonderful lift in these troubled times.

Charles Howard, Sea Biscuit’s owner was a very happy man; the prize money meant nothing to him, but the adulation of the masses towards his precious Sea Biscuit, now that was a different thing all together, he had come from nothing and was still at heart a working class man. Although he was so rich, he never forgot his roots and this was a way of saying thank you to the working class of America.

Mr. Howard was insistent that we catch the train back immediately to the Ridgewood ranch, that meant two days travel before the celebrations started, of course we could have got there in a flash, but that would spoil everything and I wanted to savour every minute we are here. As we got on the train it was all bands and police, you name them and they were there, I think the word chaotic was specifically made up for this special occasion, trilby hats were tossed into the air as we left. Oh how they loved the wonderful Sea Biscuit.