Something Is Coming
Silver Lining jockeyed by Samuel Knight
The bay colt tossed his head as the handlers led him out onto the dirt track, his hooves sinking a little into the surface athough not too much. The ground was not muddy as much as having a little more spring thanks to the recent showers and the change was a welcome one for training. Not only had it sapped some of the heat from the air - something which only warned of a hot summer ahead - but it provided something other than a firm track for working on. Alexia liked variety in training, and felt it was a good thing for the horses to be reminded that the track was not always as solid as it had been in recent weeks.
So far, Shaman was having a successful season. He had only top three finishes, two of which were wins, and had gained a little HoTY experience in the Spring Cup. Alexia had been considering throwing him in those legs of the sprinter crown that he would be able to handle, but had not yet set anything in stone. It depended if he kept running as well as he had, and if she thought he would be able to hold his own against what would be undoubtedly tough competition. Either way, however, she was proud of him.
The way he was moving today was practically dancing. His head was held naturally once he had stopped tossing it, and he was somewhere between and walk and a trot (likely because the handlers had a firm grip on him and weren't allowing him to move at the quicker pace). His ears twitched a little to the sounds around them, but for the most part he was completely focused and ready to go, Sam already in the saddle with his instructions to run the colt over four furlongs.
As they moved toward the gate, although still energetic, there was a shift in the colt's attitude. He was no longer playing around, his head leveled and his ears pressed forwards. By the time they reached the gate, he could almost be described as business-like in how he approached. There was no messing around, no fuss at all as he entered the contraption and the jockey gathered up the reins to look over the shutters. The dirt stretched out like a road - flat, perfect, and to a jockey like Sam it just begged for the work to come.
The gates opened and Shaman was out without a moment's hesitation, short strides carrying his from the contraption and onto the dirt before lengthening to a more comfortable gait. Sam knew that in a race Shaman would start dropping back now, letting the front runners into the lead so that he could sit on their tails but out here on his own he just allowed himself to stretch out - his strong frame carrying him with ease at a good pace, the colt relaxed but responsive under the jockey.
Shaman was one of those horses that enjoyed competition and ran better in company, but was not lacking for talent when out on the track alone either. While he did not have the gusto he would in a race, the bay colt clearly enjoyed the run. The feel of the dirt under his hooves, the wind as it ran through his mane. In this he had bonded well with Sam, the pair of them more at home on the track than anywhere else.
Shaman closed the first half of the work in a relaxed manner, his time good although not spectacular but the three year old was not done yet - he had barely even begun. Sam urged him forwards and felt the colt change beneath him. He became more determined, and the length of the strides they took lengthened. Shaman's speed also increased as he really started to put some effort into the run rather than just taking a relaxing gallop and it was clear that these two were not to be taken too lightly. Were they the best of the best? Far from it, at this point. But they had the potential to get there, and with the colt throwing himself so brilliantly into works when it was asked of him perhaps it would not be too long.
One furlong remained and Sam cracked the crop. This time the colt lurched forwards, showing a gutsy display as they chased down that final stretch to the post. The jockey drove the colt, the colt pushed himself and while they were no closers they did not lack for spirit and determination. They stormed past the post, and Sam only had to hope it was enough to help Shaman secure his next victory.
So far, Shaman was having a successful season. He had only top three finishes, two of which were wins, and had gained a little HoTY experience in the Spring Cup. Alexia had been considering throwing him in those legs of the sprinter crown that he would be able to handle, but had not yet set anything in stone. It depended if he kept running as well as he had, and if she thought he would be able to hold his own against what would be undoubtedly tough competition. Either way, however, she was proud of him.
The way he was moving today was practically dancing. His head was held naturally once he had stopped tossing it, and he was somewhere between and walk and a trot (likely because the handlers had a firm grip on him and weren't allowing him to move at the quicker pace). His ears twitched a little to the sounds around them, but for the most part he was completely focused and ready to go, Sam already in the saddle with his instructions to run the colt over four furlongs.
As they moved toward the gate, although still energetic, there was a shift in the colt's attitude. He was no longer playing around, his head leveled and his ears pressed forwards. By the time they reached the gate, he could almost be described as business-like in how he approached. There was no messing around, no fuss at all as he entered the contraption and the jockey gathered up the reins to look over the shutters. The dirt stretched out like a road - flat, perfect, and to a jockey like Sam it just begged for the work to come.
The gates opened and Shaman was out without a moment's hesitation, short strides carrying his from the contraption and onto the dirt before lengthening to a more comfortable gait. Sam knew that in a race Shaman would start dropping back now, letting the front runners into the lead so that he could sit on their tails but out here on his own he just allowed himself to stretch out - his strong frame carrying him with ease at a good pace, the colt relaxed but responsive under the jockey.
Shaman was one of those horses that enjoyed competition and ran better in company, but was not lacking for talent when out on the track alone either. While he did not have the gusto he would in a race, the bay colt clearly enjoyed the run. The feel of the dirt under his hooves, the wind as it ran through his mane. In this he had bonded well with Sam, the pair of them more at home on the track than anywhere else.
Shaman closed the first half of the work in a relaxed manner, his time good although not spectacular but the three year old was not done yet - he had barely even begun. Sam urged him forwards and felt the colt change beneath him. He became more determined, and the length of the strides they took lengthened. Shaman's speed also increased as he really started to put some effort into the run rather than just taking a relaxing gallop and it was clear that these two were not to be taken too lightly. Were they the best of the best? Far from it, at this point. But they had the potential to get there, and with the colt throwing himself so brilliantly into works when it was asked of him perhaps it would not be too long.
One furlong remained and Sam cracked the crop. This time the colt lurched forwards, showing a gutsy display as they chased down that final stretch to the post. The jockey drove the colt, the colt pushed himself and while they were no closers they did not lack for spirit and determination. They stormed past the post, and Sam only had to hope it was enough to help Shaman secure his next victory.