One Saturday evening, in August 2003, I visited a Borders Books and Music to peruse the section of horse racing material. I spotted a particular book, as if I had been looking for it all along. I was new to Thoroughbred racing, and eager to learn about the sport, which was rapidly becoming my passion. The cover of this book had a frontal action shot of a horse wearing blue and white checkered blinkers and his rider was in stripped sleeves. Far in the background, another horse and rider vainly tried to keep up. I began to read an article added after the main body of work. The author's account was somber and I examined it with difficulty. Emotionally shaken, I put the book back on the shelf and left.
Eight months after Secretariat died, William Nack's “Pure Heart” appeared in the June 4, 1990 issue of Sports Illustrated. The magazine reprinted it on October 24, 1994. By the time I saw it, this poignant piece had been included in the updated edition of Nack's exquisite biography Secretariat: The Making of a Champion (Da Capo Press, 2002).
When the Virginia-bred chestnut son of Bold Ruler, out of the Princequillo (GB) mare Somethingroyal, charmed a nation in the early 1970s, he punctuated his story with an exclamation point on a June afternoon in 1973. Secretariat had won the 1 ½ mile Belmont Stakes by 31 lengths in an untouchable world record time of 2:24 to become Thoroughbred racing’s first Triple Crown winner in a quarter of a century. And despite never seeing him run, I knew he was more than simply an extraordinary horse, a description wholly inadequate. Secretariat was a colossus, who had conquered the highest mountain, and now stood among the greatest equines ever, challenging them for supremacy on that summit. At the time, I was only fleetingly interested in horse racing but Secretariat was too overwhelming to ignore. Three decades later, I shared my new found enthusiasm for the Thoroughbred with anyone who would listen. But on this summer night, I became painfully aware of a grief so many horse lovers must have experienced on October 4, 1989. It had taken fourteen years for Secretariat’s death to reach me.
It was dark when I returned home. I walked into my bedroom, and reclined on the bed thinking about this horse with the stunning copper coated physique, movie star looks, and striking splashes of white on his face and legs. Secretariat had restored a nation's esteem, battered and bruised by an unpopular war, political scandal, and an energy crisis. His charisma, goodness and purity were the perfect healing touches. I continued to lie quietly, thinking about Secretariat's need for healing. He couldn’t turn back the laminitis as he had decisively turned back his opponents. His vulnerability, his fragileness and his mortality made me realize I loved him. With profound sadness, I began to cry like a child.
A few months later, I read Nack's wonderful book about Secretariat's life. I took my time getting to know him, and the people whom he touched; but mainly I came to know this beautiful, beloved champion.
A Horse of the Year at age two, Secretariat repeated at three. Of his 21 starts, he won sixteen by an average of six lengths. Two losses were completely excusable, and a third, that he actually won, resulted in disqualification. I personally found four of his races particularly remarkable. He lost his maiden, undoubtedly due to the brutal break, when he got slammed hard, but then found his stride and finished an impressive fourth, the only time he was ever out of the money. The following year, in the Preakness Stakes, after breaking last, he suddenly swept by an entire field in the blink of an eye, took the lead and drew powerfully away by two and a half lengths in a disputed time caused by a teletimer malfunction. In the final two races of his career, the superhorse transferred his talent to the grass, winning the Man o'War Stakes and Canadian International by a combined 11 ½ lengths. I've wondered what Secretariat might have done had he raced as a four-year-old, even primarily as a turf specialist, and ultimately challenging the best runners in Europe.
Hanging on a high wall in my home is a very large framed poster. It is a copy of Time magazine's portrait of Secretariat. There is also a photograph of another horse, shown in his paddock, that I keep fondly on my desk. Fifteen years after Secretariat's Triple Crown, a huge bay colt won the Preakness, and a few weeks later, in the second fastest time to that point, stormed home by more than fourteen lengths in the Belmont Stakes, evoking memories of a legend. The colt's name was Risen Star and he now runs alongside his father, somewhere beyond the clouds. What a glorious sight.
Recommended Reading
William Nack, Secretariat: The Making Of A Champion (Second Da Capo Press edition. Cambridge, MA: Da Capo Press, 2002).
Timothy T. Capps, Secretariat Thoroughbred Legends, Number 19 In A Series (Lexington, KY: Eclipse Press, 2003).
Marvin Drager, The Most Glorious Crown: The Story of America's Triple Crown Thoroughbreds from Sir Barton to Affirmed (Chicago: Triumph Books, 2005).
Robert Shoop, Down To The Wire: The Lives Of The Triple Crown Champions (Everson, WA, USA; Chilliwack, BC, Canada: Russell Dean and Company, 2004).
Copyright 2010, 2012 by John Califano
