Potshots II – Eclectic Bugaboo

Special thanks to Snowchief, Roys, and Squirrel of the Black Type Bugler, whose steady hands guide a wonderful outfit.  Please be sure to check out Roys’ entertaining Snapshots series, which was the inspiration for the article you are now reading.  Keep ‘em coming, Roys!

This week, I thought it prudent to track down one of the stars of days gone by, whose brilliance may have faded a bit in our collective minds’ eye.   But not rightly so.

Prologue:  In the fall of 1994 a mediocre 13-time loser of a racehorse with a decidedly turf-oriented pedigree was entered into a modest 2nd level allowance race on the dirt at Aqueduct.  What followed was a string of 16 straight wins and the legacy that goes along with becoming “America’s Champion”.  The bright lights soon faded, however, for our semi-willing interviewee.  You can find his Past Performances at the somewhat invisible (but real) link below.

 http://www.drf.com/hcponline/samples.269.pdf

(Interpreted for the BTB by whispering “Monty R.” at the Kentucky Horse Park)

First name?

I’ve only got one name, you doofus. It’s on my halter plate, on the door, and on the front of the brochure.  You know who I am.

Favorite food?

Peppermints are so cliché, but back when I was the champ I’d get 50 pounds of Brachs Starbrite Peppermint Disks, weekly.  I could tell the difference between those and the off-brands by smell.  Only the best for the best, you know what I’m saying?

Dog or cat?

I’m a vegetarian.  What kind of question is that?  Don’t you want to ask me about the streak?

(disdainful look)

Who let this amateur in here?

Ok, let’s talk about the streak.  At what point did you rea-

(interrupts)

I remember it like it was yesterday.  I was pure greatness from Day One, except that those moron human handlers of mine didn’t have a clue.  Why do you think it took them a year and a half to put me back on the dirt?  I could run on broken glass if I felt like it – I just knew where the glory was, see?  Does anybody remember the Breeder’s Cup Mile winner two years later?  I don’t think so.  I was holding back on the green until “Applesauce” performed an autorectal craniotomy and put me where I could be appreciated.  If it wasn’t for me, he’d still be mucking stalls in South Dakota somewhere.

(Editor’s note:  “Applesauce” is an apparently pejorative reference to trainer William Mott)

I saw you in the Citation Challenge at Arlington Park, where you tied the big record.  What do you have to say to the critics who say the race was a sham, tailored for your specific talents or limitations?

Listen, Dumb Ball, or whatever your name is, those 30 thousand people in attendance were not there to see that pissant Unbridled’s Song with his gimp shoe and his wanna-be Gambino clan-misfits.  Dramatic Gold wasn’t good enough to pick my hooves.  I carried 130 pounds of deadweight, including my overrated passenger Jerry B. – talk about making somebody’s career.  That guy STILL owes me.  Yeah, I saw you too – you were kneeling at the throne of the incomparable, invincible, unbeatable ME.

.

You seem quite cocksure for a fella who spends his days in a museum, hanging out with geriatric geldings…

Listen buddy, back in 1997,  I had a Grade One race named after me, a day proclaimed in my honor, and a bronze statue erected.  I doubt you even made it out of Grade 1, Mr. Fake-horse Journalist.  All 34 of the ladies that paid the “Big C” a visit that Spring left with a smile across their lips, if you catch my drift.  Smokin’!  Don’t tell me I didn’t give and give ‘till I couldn’t give no more!  This horse was born to run, baby – humans have always been messin’ up my game since Day 1.  It’s their loss, not mine, if they wanna put me where more of their kind has access to greatness than the less fortunate slowpokes of my breed.  Why begrudge the loyal subjects who want to worship their King?

But didn’t anyone tell you why the truckloads of mares mysteriously stopped showing up?

I realize you couldn’t possibly understand this, but when you’ve got the goods like I do, it’s often too much for the commoner to handle.  I won SIXTEEN RACES IN A ROW.  ONE, SIX. I’ve got almost 10 mil in the bank, Basehead…and those are 1990’s Escalade dollars, not these flaccid economy 2008 Prius dollars.  I’m sure the ‘cover’ experience was so intense that word got out – Big C plays it bigtime, all the time – and the powers that be just figured it’s not worth the risk of a rupture, or the mortal shock of being in my carnal presence.

I hate to tell you this, sir, but you’re here because… you shoot blanks.

(whinnies unintelligibly to the interpreter)

Get my lawyer on the phone.  SECURITY!

This interview is over. (aside) I am gonna KICK that lowlife Applesauce so hard he’ll wish he were frozen from concentrate! 

(The reporter is being escorted from the grounds…don’t tase me, Bro!)