Flowers Where Your Face Should Be

I'll be taking two weeks off while I'm in Saratoga

As some of you may know, I spent half of last week making the 30-hour drive from San Antonio to Saratoga to be able to spend time in town for the races and sales. I was originally going to skip Whitney day, but decided I wanted to have the chance to see Cody’s Wish win in person. Needless to say, I’m regretting that choice now.

The Test was the most devastating race I’ve ever had this misfortune of watching. Thankfully, I was by the paddock bar at the time instead of trackside, but the emotional whiplash of the moment still hit hard. Just as I was thinking how impressed I was with Maple Leaf Mel, who I hadn’t thought could go on after setting the fractions she did, tragedy struck. It was a moment suspended in time, the heart-wrenching image of her desperately trying to get back up on three good legs juxtaposed with the air of disbelief that had fallen over even the boisterous crowd at The Post. But it was only a moment. As is tradition, the show must go on.

I shoved down the sickness in my stomach, forced a smile, and made it through the rest of the day. It wasn’t until I was settling into bed Saturday evening that I let myself cry. For a sport so full of emotion, it’s not particularly welcoming to displays of that emotion beyond a shake of the head, a wry frown, or a soft expression of “damn.” I’ve learned that fuller expression is better left to private moments, so I buried it until a more appropriate time.

Then Sunday came, and I went back to the track, still feeling that aura of despondency after the events of the Test, but trying to look forward to spending time with friends who share my love for this sport. And, as you all surely know, the unthinkable happened in the fourth race, with Frivole being pulled up early and Ever Summer going down in the stretch. Mercifully, Frivole was okay, but Ever Summer was the second on-track death in as many days, and the third this week. I knew I couldn’t hold myself together for another ten minutes, much less another six races, so I left. I’ve been going to races for over 15 years and I’ve never done that before.

This weekend brought back memories of the 2012 Dubai World Cup, when the horrific breakdown of Fox Hunt early on in the two-mile event caused the race to be halted and rescheduled for the end of the card, only for Bronze Cannon to be euthanized after an injury incurred in the re-running. Another horse, Grand Vent, was also pulled up sharply in that second attempt to run the race. That incident is the only one that compares in my mind - as someone who was born in 1993 and has never watched the 1990 Distaff - with what happened this weekend. That was the last time I stopped watching for the day because of a breakdown - and only after the ill-fated second running. Now, I’m thinking of all the other times that maybe I should have stepped away.

On Twitter, the attempts to placate emotion with “it’s part of the game” only served to stoke the smoldering anger, anger not directed at anyone in particular, but with the fact that it is part of the game, and one that we’ve been forced to reckon with all too often this year, it seems: Freezing Point on Kentucky Derby day, Havnameltdown on Preakness Day, Excursionniste - a horse I had a personal connection with as he was owned by Little Blue Bird Stables - on Belmont Stakes day, and now Maple Leaf Mel on the Whitney undercard.

“You just have to move on” they say - as I’ve done for the last nineteen years whenever a horse dies in service to the sport we love. At what point is it acceptable to say you need a break? At what point does it become too much? At what point are you part of the problem? These are questions that have been swirling in my brain for months, and while I know at the end of the day I love this sport and believe in its ability to bring people together over their shared love of these beautiful and tragically fragile animals, I just don’t have it in me to write about my excitement for future equine athletes right now.

Please take the time to read some of the beautiful writing that has been done since Saturday, particularly Sean Clancy’s piece in the Saratoga Special, Natalie Voss’ piece for Paulick Report, and this piece by Charles Simon. I don’t have the words to describe the emotions I’m feeling right now, so please read theirs. The only thing I can offer is this song, which photos of Maple Leaf Mel’s empty stall brought to mind - just carnations where her face should be.

I’ll still be in Saratoga until next Sunday, and I will be at the sale tonight and tomorrow and at the races this weekend, but I will not be posting to the blog until August 28th, at which point I’ll go back to my regular schedule. Thank you all for your support and understanding.