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vJhurchill Downs homestretch.
You should have heard poor little Inventor, struggling to catch up with me while running in the deep sand out there.
“Wink” and I won that day by a nose, though I could hardly walk from bowing my tendon rounding that top bend. Inventor came alongside as we eased to a walk and said that was the bravest thing he’d ever seen. I bowed my head to him before we turned to head back towards the excited, screaming fans who mobbed the winner’s circle.
I stood stock still, sides heaving, while Wink and I accepted the heavy red blanket of roses before heading wearily home to the backstretch stable, head bobbing in pain.
I’ve seen a lot since I won that Kentucky Derby on May 3, 1902.1 left God’s green Earth at the tender age of 18; now I roam wild and free in the lushest bluegrass fields above. My chestnut coat again shines bright, my legs don’t hurt and I spend day upon glorious day galloping the heavens with my dad, Halma (he won the Derby in 1895) and his daddy’s daddy, Hindoo (he won the 1881 Run for the Roses).
From this viewpoint, we have quite the perch to watch the action each spring in Louisville. We got to see the greatest horse to look through a bridle, Secretariat, win the Derby in record time in 1973. Dad and I always play a game on Derby day. When they start loading all those hot shots in the gate, well, we give ourselves a good quarter-mile head start and
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