Category: Updates from the yard

When a plane crashes, investigators often find that it is not a single error that brought the craft down, but rather a pyramid of mistakes that culminated in disaster. This model is often true for most big screw-ups, and certainly seemed in action in the case of the Life at Ten fiasco at the Breeders’ Cup.

For those of you who hadn’t been paying attention: Life at Ten, a mare trained by Todd Pletcher, turned out not to be fit to run the Ladies Classic (god, I cringe every time I write that name – sounds like a deodorant brand. Can’t we PLEASE change it back to the Distaff??). Apparently Pletcher knew – or at least strongly suspected – that something was wrong with the horse. He told the jockey. The jockey told ESPN, the network covering the races in the United States, that the horse didn’t feel right. Nobody told the vets or stewards and the horse ran the race – or didn’t. She broke from the gate and then immediately trailed off to lope around at little more than a hack canter. The jockey was praised for “doing the right thing” by not insisting on more when clearly his horse was having a problem.

There is plenty wrong here, but let’s work backwards. Johnny Velazquez, the jockey, did not do the right thing. From most accounts, the mare had tied up, which means that any move she made was causing more damage. I haven’t heard or read anything since that tells us what was really wrong with Life at Ten, so I don’t know for sure whether or not she tied up. But when a jockey senses his horse is not galloping properly, the only right thing to do is stop. Immediately. But even before it got that far, he should have notified the stewards or vets on duty that something appeared to be wrong. He apparently did not do that. Now let’s back up another step. Apparently, the horse was moving extremely badly before entering the gate – so much so that even casual viewers who knew nothing about horses suspected something was wrong. In full disclosure, I have not been able to find any video of the warm-up, so I don’t know how bad it was. But there were at least three vets stationed at the starting gate, not one of them paying attention. Back up again. An ESPN commentator who is a former jockey asked Velazquez about the horse, and Velazquez said she wasn’t moving right. This prompted an ESPN producer to phone the stewards and notify them that something may be amiss. The stewards decided to ignore the potential problem. And then back up one final, and most important, step. In the saddling enclosure, Pletcher told Velazquez the horse didn’t seem right.

Rules governing horse racing around the world vary somewhat (with the most glaring example being the panoply of medication allowed to be used on horses running in the United States) but there is one rule that is universal:  The buck stops with the trainer. No matter what happens to a horse, for better or worse, the trainer must take the ultimate responsibility. It is not permissible to blame the vets, the jockey, the stewards, the weather, the anything. That is why most of us have gray hair (those of us that still have hair) and a high alcohol tolerance.

After the race, Pletcher said his mare must have had a reaction to her Lasix shot. This is lame and wrong on so many levels it makes my stomach turn over. First of all, it points up Problem No. 1 in American racing: That this excuse can even exist. The Breeders’ Cup should take a first, bold step and ban all race-day medication in its races. The organization wants to call the Breeders’ Cup event the “World Championship” of thoroughbred racing. There is no way it will ever live up to that title as long as the usual race-day meds permitted across America are allowed in Breeders’ Cup races. If the Breeders’ Cup would take this step, it might encourage further change, like eliminating race-day medication in two-year-olds. American racing has to get itself on a serious methadone program and it has to start somewhere.

But back to Pletcher’s excuse.  Life at Ten ran 16 races before she was loaded in the gate at the Breeders’ Cup. Lasix was certainly not new to her. Pletcher hinted in some of his remarks that she had problems with Lasix before, but “not before a race,” meaning she was probably shot up with it for workouts, a common practice in American racing.  The injection of Lasix is usually administered about four hours before post time (during which time the horse’s kidneys are thrown into overdrive as it pees out about 20 kilos in body weight).  Although Todd Pletcher has more than 200 horses in training, he apparently had enough personal knowledge of this particular animal to realize she was not acting like a healthy horse when he saddled her. He chose to send her out to the track anyway.

Life at Ten was sent off second-favorite in the betting, meaning this whole affair costs punters millions. Those who were lucky enough to pick up on the ESPN feed could change their bets, but anyone out of range could not.

Various racing authorities in America are ducking this like a hot potato, which is their usual reaction to this sort of thing. The solution proposed by the chief steward in Kentucky is not to question the judgment of the jockey, trainer or vets involved but rather to ban comments by jockeys to broadcasters once the jockey is in the saddle. I’m not making this up. This harkens back to a similar event in France a few years back when Equidia, the horse racing channel, decided it would be fun to put microphones on a few trotting drivers during a race. Not long into the experiment, the mikes picked up what amounted to race-fixing as one leading driver exhorted another to close a hole and not let a horse through. “Don’t be an asshole,” the driver yelled, “close it up, close it up!” Rather than investigate the situation, stewards promptly banned the microphones.

It’s very frustrating to see the sport I love, and one that I completely changed my life to be a part of, continue to shoot itself in the foot. Every time an event like this happens, I keep thinking OK, now is finally the chance to make a change for the better. And every time I am wrong. I still score the French authorities WAY ahead of their American counterparts in terms of how to run the sport. Viva la France. At least Pletcher couldn’t get away with it over here.

Oh, and by the way: Goldikova and Zenyatta were stars. Jane Smiley was right on Mike Smith’s ride – the nose Zenyatta lost by equaled just a fraction of a second’s hesitation on the part of the jockey. My friend Jean-Paul Gallorini had a different take on the ride, though, and it bears mentioning. Rather than moving too late, he maintains that Smith moved too soon. Zenyatta wasn’t balanced coming through the turn, and that was when he was asking her to move up. Gallorini said that if Smith had balanced the horse before asking for the move, he would have won. Interesting. In any case, clearly Zenyatta should stay in training, as Goldikova will. This fantasy about her going off to make super-babies is nonsense. This is a racehorse, and she should be racing. She is not old. She started her career late. Let her run – it’s clearly what she was born to do.

George (Email Exit) has had a chronic cough for the past few weeks. Nothing too serious – no fever or other sign of illness – but enough to make me doubt the wisdom of trucking all the way down to Lyon for his race today. So when he coughed once going out yesterday morning, I called the vet and told him to bring over a scope. I use different vets for different problems; for this, I called on Jerome, our local vet who is pretty competent and is always there when you need him. (He’s also on the expensive side and I don’t trust him on lameness issues, but that’s another story.) George scoped dirty, and I can’t say I wasn’t somewhat relieved not to have to get up at 4 a.m. to drive to Lyon.  That said, I’d rather the horse was 100 percent well.

Jerome didn’t think there was any infection, rather a light bronchitis caused by seasonal irritants. He also saw very slight evidence of bleeding, but very slight. I wasn’t panicked about any of this, because all horses bleed a tiny bit now and then. Jerome, on the other hand, went into full pharmaceutical mode. He recommended treatment with DMSO and a nebulizer for 10 days, while keeping the horse in light work. I was OK with that. Then he said it would be wise to inject 3ccs of Dimazon, a lasix-like diuretic, the morning before working him next. I’m definitely not OK with that. Jerome preceded to argue the benefits of lasix, citing various studies. I’ve read the same studies, and my take on them is 180 degrees from Jerome’s. I explained that yes, of course vets were in favor of lasix. That was what was keeping 80 percent of the U.S. practice in business.

In my experience, a vet’s zealousness for the prescription pad comes in direct proportion to his age and experience. The younger the vet, the heavier the shopping bag at the pharmacy. Hachem, a young associate of Dr. Douay in Chantilly, is a wonderful guy – thorough, patient and extremely competent. But when he looked over Turfani the other day, he came up with a laundry lists of tests we could do and injections to follow to resolve that last bit of hind-end stiffness. I explained to him that the mare was never a great mover behind, because her pelvis is not straight and her joints are fragile. But I also explained that I was retiring her in January, so all we needed to do was decide if she could race another two or three times without undo pain or damage.  Dr. Douay understood that perfectly, suggested a shoeing change that might help and we will leave it at that.

Don’t get me wrong. If a horse has a problem that needs to be treated, it should be treated. But if the problem can’t be resolved reasonably, perhaps that horse shouldn’t be a racehorse. I am absolutely confident that George will come back and win a race in Deauville before the end of the year – without injecting anything to “help” him work. Turfani has at least one more win in her, too. My vet meant very well when he wrote out two pages worth of prescriptions for George. It’s my job as a trainer to do what I think is best for the horse – and that doesn’t necessarily mean doing everything a vet tells you to do.

Hi Shinko finished sixth of seven runners in a claimer today, which was absolutely perfect. Now let me explain why. The French racing system is based on handicap races, not claiming races as in America. But a horse has to run three times in other races – claimers or condition races – in order to get a French handicap mark. Hi Shinko came from England, where he has five wins, six seconds and five thirds from 28 starts. Not too shabby, but he was too highly placed in the handicaps there to find races. My goal is to get him qualified here at a reasonable level – which means three performances that won’t draw the eye of the handicapper. It’s a game everyone plays, and it’s not necessarily fair to the average horseplayer, who may not understand the game at that level. But there is a fair way to play it. Shinko was carrying 63 kilos today, top weight by miles, which was pretty much guaranteed to put him out of the running. If I had really wanted to win, I would have scratched him and found something more reasonable. On the other hand, if you bet on horses and you can read the form in the most elementary way, you would see the weight penalty and bet on something else. My jockey gave the horse every chance, and got beat by the weight – and then by only three lengths. We need one more race to get a handicap rating before Deauville, which is the objective for this horse. I will try to choose something that he doesn’t have much chance of winning – and if you can read the form, that will be clear. But maybe not for everyone. Shinko was backed down to 9-1 after opening at 20-1, which is something I don’t understand. The odds fell despite the fact the horse was kicking the paddock apart on his way to the track. I’m told Shinko has a habit of this – his old trainer warned me not to dally in the presentation ring. He’s right – after one tour, Shinko started to smack the rail with his back feet like it was target practice. This was after he had already turned his box on the racecourse into matchsticks. We were stabled in the new wooden boxes rather than the older more solid block, and Shinko must have liked the sound of his feet hitting the padded wall, because it took him two minutes to trash the place. The thing is, he’s not a bad-tempered horse. He just has a few quirks that we have to manage. And manage them, we will. Just in time for the winter handicaps.

Newmarket may be the cradle of thoroughbred racing and breeding, but as a culinary destination it leaves very much to be desired. I just got back from the big autumn Horses in Training sale, and I think it’s going to take a week to detox from the experience. The sales are always the same: Wonderful, intense, exhausting and nonstop. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. But the sales involve constant motion between the heat of the sales ring, the cold of looking at prospects, the heat of the bar, the cold of looking at more horses, the heat of the restaurant…you get the idea. Steak and ale pie. Beer. Lasagne. Beer. Fish and Chips. Beer. Shepherd’s Pie. More beer. One can go days without seeing a green vegetable while increasing one’s alcohol tolerance (and waste line). But I’m back in France now and here’s the upside: I think we bought a wonderful filly for our Guernsey owners. She’s called Strictly Rhythm, a two-year-old daughter of Hawk Wing who should arrive tomorrow in the wee hours of the morning. We’re all very excited about her. Meanwhile, I’m off for a dinner of salad and water.

George (Email Exit) finished 9th in his handicap in Deauville yesterday, which sounds worse than it was – just a half-length away from a check. We’ve been close lately, but not quite there. He was going back to 1,900 meters after running 1,300 last time out; because of that, I told the jockey not to bother him too much at the start so we had some gas left for the finish (since the strikes have hit France, I guess I’m a little obsessed about conserving gas). Unfortunately, that left us with too much to do in the stretch, and George couldn’t quite get there. The race also had absolutely no pace, which didn’t do us any favors, either. But he came back well and he should definitely take a check in this kind of race again if we let him press the pace with the leaders next time out. He is in good form, and is starting to pick up a little attitude at the track – he decided he would go into his box only when he was good and ready, which wasn’t necessarily when WE wanted him in the box. I did win that argument, if a bit unconventionally. Turns out my friend Leah was filming; you can see it if you are on Facebook. (Apologies for that – I find Facebook as annoying as the next person, but I couldn’t figure out how to extract the video from the site.)

There is no gas or diesel in France at the moment, it seems. Those of us lucky enough to have filled up while the filling was good are still OK for a bit. The measure that is the bone of contention for strikers is supposed to pass the French Senate tomorrow, which means that things should then get better – or worse. My car is full, which means that if I don’t go anywhere between now and Sunday, I can still get to Newmarket, filling up on the English side, where they still have gas. My truck is three-quarters full. That means I should have enough to take George to his race in Deauville tomorrow, and probably get home, too, if I don’t drive as fast as I usually do.

Since I’ll have one horse in a two-horse truck, I did the neighborly thing and called up another trainer with one runner, in the race before mine. No, he said, he couldn’t come with me, because his horse won’t get in a truck. He won’t get in a trailer, really, either, but apparently this can be accomplished with skillful positioning of said trailer just in front of the horse’s box, and piling bails of straw on either side to prevent escape. This done, a Chifney bit, a couple of good-sized pushers and a broom are required to complete the task. If he’s lucky enough to get the horse on the trailer, the trainer said, racing is still far from certain, because the horse often won’t load in the starting gate, either. He was banned for a year from any races requiring a gate, which turned out to be OK, because it gave him time to recover from a fracture sustained during a previous loading experience. “Once I was stuck in Seiches sur Loire for three hours because he wouldn’t get on the trailer,” the trainer said.

So I’m hearing all this, and thinking maybe retirement would be a better option for this horse. “Ah, mais il galope un peu,” the trainer said – “Yes, but he can gallop a bit.” Further proof that training horses makes you insane, if you weren’t that way to start with.

It seems my blog has been completely overtaken by events, and like that letter to an old friend one keeps meaning to write, it got put off. Where to start? At the yard, I suppose. Since we’re going into winter and the summer didn’t plan out as I had hoped, I’ve essentially cleared the decks, keeping only horses that will run a winter season in Deauville. Brazil and Piccolo Blue have moved on. Brazil was the biggest frustration of the year, not least because she was leased by new owners who I desperately hoped to offer a winner. She will continue training with an amateur, who will do some jumping with her and race her a bit out in the country. Same for Piccolo, who went to another permit-holder.  Rendition will have a break and not debut as a two-year-old, unfortunately. She has had a few minor setbacks and is a very big filly, so will be much better coming back to start racing at three. She is a really nice mover, so the dream is still very much alive with her. We also hope to bring back Hard Way in the spring, depending on what his mid-January CAT scan shows. So that leaves us with: Turfani, who will finish her career in December/January with at least one more win, I think, on the fibersand in Deauville; George (Email Exit), who runs Wednesday in Deauville and will probably run in December/January before having a break; Hi Shinko, a very promising new addition, and Blessing Belle, who has come back into training after four months off for her withers injury. Belle looks fantastic and has grown even bigger in her time off. She seems completely healed and does not look like a horse that’s been laying around for three months. I’m optimistic she can be ready for December. Hi Shinko is a really interesting horse shipped over from England, so the priority will be getting him qualified for French handicaps for December. For the moment, it’s easier said than done; he’s won five races in England and that means he has to run in pretty tough company for the moment here. He debuted last Friday in a D-level condition race in Fontainebleau and had to give weight to a Group 1 horse, which hardly seemed fair. That said, he wasn’t beaten far and it wasn’t his best distance, so we have quite a lot to look forward to with him. I’d be happy enough to run him in a claimer to get qualified, but there aren’t any expensive enough at the moment, so we may be stuck with another tough race or two before we can get serious.

I’m hoping to get another two in the yard for the winter, so we can be racing six. Next week is the big sale in Newmarket, and there may be some potential there.

It’s a big weekend ahead for French racing, with our European champion Arc day coming up on Sunday. We’ve got visitors from everywhere coming for the festivities, which include racing at Longchamp on Saturday and Sunday, the Arc sale on Saturday night and various dinners and parties around that. Hopefully, we all won’t be too hung over when George runs on Monday in Maisons-Laffitte. We’ll all be there to cheer on Shamalgan in the Group 2 Prix Dollar on Saturday. He’s been staying at the yard for three weeks now and I’m hoping he runs well. His lad, Costia, says his horse doesn’t like heavy ground, though, which could hurt his chances. At least that’s what I think he said. Costia only speaks Russian and Czech, so we communicate mainly by pointing and improvised sign language.

We have a party of 20 in the restaurant next to the presentation ring on Sunday, which should be quite fun. I think this is Youmzain’s year. He’s had to put up with some very good horses in previous years, but if he’s in form, this should finally be his chance to win instead of finishing second. And of course we get to see Goldikova in the Foret, and Poppet’s Treasure, Overdose’s little sister, might line up for the Abbaye. I hope she can avenge her older brother. All in all, seven Group 1 races on the card – a veritable European Breeders’ Cup. What on earth were the British authorities thinking when they came up with the idea of a British Champion’s Day only a week later? We already have a European champion’s day. It’s in France. Be there or be square.

Turfani told me in no uncertain terms last year that she didn’t care for heavy ground, and she made sure I got the message again this year when I tried it at Craon on Monday. The ground wasn’t really heavy as such, but it was very hashed up after three days of racing and just enough rain. She was drawn 1 on the cord, so had no choice but to run over the worst of it. She was already struggling entering the final turn, so Fabien dropped his hands and coasted home – a good decision. She spent Tuesday sleeping it off, and will be in easy work until I can find her something on the fibersand in Deauville. There is little point in trying to run her on turf from here on out. Meanwhile, we’re looking forward to George on Monday in Maisons-Laffitte, where he will run a 1,300-meter straight-line handicap. I wanted to run him on Saturday at Longchamp, but we didn’t make the cut. I’m hoping the Monday entry will suit him.

We’ve had some trouble with distances lately, not necessarily by choice. Little Brazilien ran 2,000 meters last week, which I knew was too far but had no choice because she needed the race and there was nothing else. She ran OK, really, considering. She idled in 5th or 6th position into the turn, then dropped back (as she usually does) but did re-accelerate a bit to try, which was better than we’ve seen lately. About 350 meters from the end she was cooked, though, which didn’t surprise me. What I’d like to try now is a mile with blinkers. Now finding that distance in a race she can get into will be a challenge. We may have to go out to the country to get it. At this point, I’ll go anywhere.

Timelord also found a little too much runway when we tried him over 3,000 meters in Maisons-Laffitte on Friday. It was a trial, really, and he told is in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t interested, so we’ll go back to 2,000 meters next, but not before he has a bit of a break. I think he needs some recovery time.

Turfani heads down to Craon tomorrow to run 2,200 meters. Again, 2,000 is her distance, and the going is likely to be quite soft, so I’m hoping she can do it. She seems keen; we treated her back since her last race and she is moving quite well now, so I’m hoping she is her usual courageous self. She won’t appreciate the long ride down, either, but Craon is really a wonderful track and I’m looking forward to running there again. It’s a shame it’s so far away (about 300 kilometers one way).  I’m hoping it’s worth the trip.