This Side Up | Horse Racing Free Tips

This Side Up: Striking Gold Never a Formality

In this business, simply “doing the math” would stop us right in our tracks. Luckily, we have algebra on our side. A daunting equation can always be rescued by that helpfully vague variable, 'x', the unquantifiable ardor of wealthy people: their competitive instinct, their sportsmanship, or simply their outsized egos. At the top of the market, after all, the dollars they spend are not the same as the dollars used by the rest of us to buy coffee or gas. It's not like “real” money at all. But that doesn't mean it can't be subject to a scale of values.

So, to give one example, I shouldn't be at all surprised if the most expensive yearling transaction of 2022 has yet to take place, despite that booming market at Keeneland over the past few days. American investment at the Tattersalls October Sale has been soaring in recent years, and the environment this time round could not be more congenial. Even the biggest domestic investors will be bringing a penknife to a gunfight. Sterling has hit a 37-year low against the dollar and, with the fiscal helm in Britain seized by navigators unorthodox to the point of eccentricity, you couldn't rule out outright parity between the two currencies by the time Tattersalls raises a hammer over several yearlings from the penultimate crop of Galileo (Ire).

And here's another calculation for the rich; specifically, for those prosperous partners privileged to share Flightline (Tapit). If all goes well at the Breeders' Cup, somebody in their decision-making huddle will surely point out that nowadays he has the option of banking the equivalent of around 50 covers, even at his likely fee, with a 110-second gallop in Saudi Arabia. (Conceivably it might even be muttered that the race is scheduled just 11 days into the breeding season.)

From the sidelines, we're all fondly anticipating mass public engagement for our sport if Flightline is permitted to extend his career beyond a sixth start. Even if his owners were to give us what we want, however, there's a scenario in which we might seem impossible to satisfy. What if they ask us to settle for a couple of breakfast broadcasts from the desert, before he rests up and takes in maybe a single prep before the Breeders' Cup? I think our gratitude might soon obtain a rather peevish note.

On some level, those imploring his owners to keep him in training are suggesting some implicit duty to the sport. That feels a little unfair. At the same time, if we are asked to believe that their strategy really won't be governed simply by dollars and cents, then it does at least become a question of the kind of legacy they wish to create from a generational opportunity.

Flightline's stud career is emphatically part of that, too, though let's not forget that even an authentic racetrack phenomenon must start over and prove himself in his second career. For now, it's not as though Flightline could be sensibly proposed as an equivalent wager, in terms of what a breeder should be expected to pay, to Into Mischief.

At 126, Flightline has authored one of just eight Beyers ever recorded at 125 or more. The only horse to hit a higher mark, Ghostzapper (128), is also the only one with any pretension to having maintained his elite status at stud. More typical are the fortunes of the horse with the unique distinction of clocking two of those eight Himalayan Beyers.

In his three final starts, Formal Gold ran 126, 124 (smashing a 40-year Monmouth track record) and 125; he was going into the Breeders' Cup on an irresistible roll when derailed by injury. Yet he would prove a thoroughly anonymous stallion, best redeemed by Semaphore Man, who annually contested the GIII Count Fleet H., aged four through seven, for finishes of 3-2-1-1. After failing to get any of three Saskatchewan mares in foal in 2017, Formal Gold was retired into the best of care but nobody noticed when he quietly slipped away two or three years back.

Now obviously Flightline is a radically different proposition. And not just because Formal Gold, expertly handled by the unsung Bill Perry and thriving on the attentions of Skip Away and Will's Way, stood up to 16 starts in 15 months. Formal Gold cost $62,000 as Hip 1657 at the September Sale; Flightline made seven figures at Saratoga. Alongside his freakish performances, then, he evidently has the genetic and physical wherewithal to make a better fist of his next career.

But even Secretariat notoriously failed to find a male heir. All Thoroughbreds tend to keep us guessing, in some respect or other, and that's never going to change. Certainly I can't buy into the notion that Flightline has fueled the market boom by showing that even really big numbers can be made to make sense. The year he was sold was no different from any other, in terms of the spectrum of outcomes.

It was that September, for instance, that the daughter of Leslie's Lady and American Pharoah made $8.2 million, and there's no need to remind anyone of the tragedy that ensued. That kind of thing can happen to any horse, but it's pretty sobering to scroll down the other top prices paid at that auction. They were obviously well assessed, physically, because most have made the racetrack. But while Malathaat (Curlin) has proved a million bucks very well spent, and there have been moments of excitement for the likes of Spielberg (Union Rags) and Overtook (Curlin), suffice to say that there are some pretty expensive geldings pottering around out there.

The late Cezanne in March | Horsephotos

Another of the headline scores of the 2019 bloodstock market was the $3.65-million Curlin colt that topped Fasig-Tipton's 2-year-old sale at Gulfstream. I was extremely sorry, this week, to read that Cezanne's various travails since had reached a fatal nadir in a fungal infection. He will duly remain an unfinished masterpiece, albeit even he managed two more starts than Flightline to this point. Cezanne's whole story has proved a very poignant one: most obviously, as the parting bow of Jimmy Crupi, but also given the premature loss (through colic) of a dam from one of the most brilliantly curated families in the book.

Cezanne had shown sufficient flashes of brilliance to merit a chance at stud and, this business being what it is, he would have started with the same blank slate as will Flightline. So we can never know, from one day to the next, quite when a Thoroughbred has achieved its definitive value.

As such, in enjoying a loaded GI Pennsylvania Derby on Saturday, perhaps we should cast our minds back to the 1996 running when Formal Gold was turned over at short odds. In the event, it proved that he had barely started. Maybe that can still prove true of Zandon (Upstart), in which hope I'm clinging stubbornly to the wreckage after his championship credentials took a battering in the GI Travers.

To me, he looked like a horse in some kind of discomfort that day, the way he carried his head turning in, and I refuse to forget the way he glided into contention on the first Saturday in May. For such a baffling Derby, it is turning out to be a pretty good one, and yet there was a moment when Zandon looked in a class of his own.

His equation still has that 'x' element, and maybe his new jockey will discover its true value. You know, I might even stake a dollar or two out of my grocery budget.

The post This Side Up: Striking Gold Never a Formality appeared first on TDN | Thoroughbred Daily News | Horse Racing News, Results and Video | Thoroughbred Breeding and Auctions.

Source of original post

This Side Up: The Court of King James

Even as the British Turf grieves a revered sovereign and, in the same person, its most cherished and indispensable servant, I hope you'll forgive me for instead reflecting on the loss, only the day before, of someone she would have loved to be typical of all her subjects: a horseman, and true countryman, who divided his time between the international bloodstock circuit and an old rectory in rural Yorkshire.

Whereas we knew that her great age was finally catching up with the monarch, James Delahooke's abrupt departure for a grouse moor in the sky has come as a ghastly shock. Returning to Lexington for the September Sale suddenly feels a dismally different prospect. Who, now, will tell us like it really is? Who else will entertain and educate us with that unerring, twin-edged blade of knowledge and mischief–both honed by a deep seasoning in the ups and downs of life, in general, and life with horses in particular.

His career as a bloodstock agent made James as familiar as any with those twin impostors, triumph and disaster. And the man who had come out the other side was not just a brilliant judge of horseflesh, but a no less acute observer of human nature.

James knew his mind, and how to speak his mind. And while he could be hilariously acerbic, in the end his sagacity was based–as it always must be–in a humility and compassion that he found wanting, on typically candid reflection, in his younger self.

(To listen to this story as a podcast, click the arrow below.)

He deplored the phonies and smooth talkers, many of whom thrived in the years of his unjust neglect. Being himself unfettered by any posture or pretense, however, he became a fount of insight and enthusiasm to refresh any who deserved to share them, whatever their age or station in life.

He was a fine raconteur albeit, as a compatriot who has accompanied him through airports, I'm not sure immigration officers were always so appreciative of this talent. But in a walk of life where too many say only what they imagine a rich person might want to hear, it became an instructive badge of merit to see those who did remain loyally in his camp; or, better yet, those who joined it when he was out of fashion.

Certainly it's unsurprising that James should have forged such a lasting bond with Arthur Hancock, another who knew both the solitariness and satisfactions of genius that has been separated, not without pain, from the heart of the Establishment.

James's judgement, ever priceless if sometimes inadequately prized, was reliably independent of the market herd. And he could, indeed, be memorably withering about the craven, venal or simply fatuous ways in which he saw others wasting their patrons' money.

In someday trying to replace the irreplaceable, we can trust those who have lost not just a friend but an inspired professional advisor to rely on the same instincts that served them so well, in first seeking James's services. You can almost hear his caustic bark of laughter at those “tyre-kickers”, as he called them, who may now amplify their unworthiness by crassly volunteering to fill his shoes. I remember him once discussing a couple of agents then enjoying conspicuous patronage. One, he declared, was a very nice person but “buying meatballs–and terribly expensive meatballs”; while the other, almost universally disparaged as an opportunist and adventurer, actually had an extremely good eye.

Both pronouncements were typical of James. The pity was that neither of these people could be truly described as rivals or peers. They were not strictly his rivals, because Bobby Flay was just about the only person smart enough to be giving James adequate resources to compete for the same stock. And they weren't peers because–well, because that was a distinction available to very few of his generation.

Danehill | Arrowfield

What an honor it was, to sit in his study and be shown his catalogue notes on Hip 154 at Saratoga in 1982. A single caveat: “Toes out slightly”. And two numbers scrawled: 1.6 and 350. The first was what he told Prince Khalid Abdullah he should expect to pay, because someone would surely have a million and a half for a daughter of His Majesty out of a Buckpasser half-sister to Northern Dancer. And the second was for the $350,000 actually required to buy the filly who became the dam of Danehill.

James had met the Prince three or four years previously, after dining with Guy Harwood in Deauville. When they asked for the bill, the waiter said it had been taken care of–indicating an elegant Arabian gentleman across the restaurant. This turned out to be the man who had relegated them to underbidders for a yearling earlier that day. Invited soon afterwards to sow the seeds of what has become one of the great programs in Turf history, within five years James had bought both the sire and dam of two Epsom Derby winners. He leaves an indelible legacy in the Juddmonte empire; in the breed itself; and, above all, in the knowledge and memories of so many friends.

James would not want misplaced sentiment in our bereavement, any more than a true horsewoman like Queen Elizabeth II would desire the final Classic of the British season to be postponed (as “a mark of respect”) when the trainers involved have fine-tuned their charges to the minute. Those of us who lament James's absence in Lexington this week know perfectly well that he would far rather we just raised a glass to his memory–and then, very shortly afterwards, another glass–before sharing a few of the stories that will long preserve the vivacity and sheer authenticity of his character.

Meanwhile I'm pretty sure he would hope that Arklow can grab the weekend headlines, as an 8-year-old son of Arch running 12 furlongs on grass. That way, perhaps, it won't just be his own example that encourages us to keep seeking the right stuff in the Thoroughbred.

I am grateful to know a few others of comparable stamp, from whom an approving email or text steels your resolve against any orthodoxy; while even a mild hint of dissent, equally, prompts you urgently to revisit the premises of your argument. But there's no denying that neither our business nor our community can easily absorb the sudden loss of a man like James.

Okay, perhaps so unconstrained a personality might not have made a monarch quite as successful as the one whose reign spanned almost his whole life. But I will certainly not be alone in missing the wit and wisdom guaranteed, from Yorkshire to Lexington, whenever King James was holding court.

The post This Side Up: The Court of King James appeared first on TDN | Thoroughbred Daily News | Horse Racing News, Results and Video | Thoroughbred Breeding and Auctions.

Source of original post

This Side Up: Flightline Ready For More Altitude

The race is not always to the swift. Pretty old news, by this stage: it's right there in Ecclesiastes and, nearly as long ago now, you could see as much when More Than Ready cut the last corner in the Kentucky Derby. He transparently didn't get home, flattening into fourth behind Fusaichi Pegasus. But the brilliance of that move was instead sustained through his second career, where he just kept on going–whether measured by years, or air miles–and proved a far more potent force than the rest of that Derby field put together.

While he certainly maximized his legacy, famously shuttling 19 consecutive seasons to Australia, his loss at 25 still leaves a challenging void. Few stallions today are embraced with the same conviction in such diverse environments and, if his service as a domestic conduit for the Halo line is to be prolonged, then we appear precariously dependent on one of his later sons: Daredevil has just produced his first crop since repatriation; Funtastic had a timely first winner last weekend; while Catholic Boy and Copper Bullet are making their debut at the yearling sales.

Catholic Boy would be an especially apt heir, as only the third American sophomore to win Grade Is on both dirt and turf. Don't forget that he had already won graded stakes on both surfaces as a juvenile. His failure to kick on after the GI Travers S., bombing out at the Breeders' Cup and then confined to a fitful campaign at four, shouldn't efface a pretty extraordinary career to that point.

In terms of carrying forward the More Than Ready legacy, Catholic Boy also has a suitably eclectic background: his first two dams by Bernardini and Seeking The Gold; his third, by Nijinsky II; while his fourth is the Argentinian champion La Sevillana (Arg). She starts a chain of seven native mares tracing back to a daughter, delivered in 1890, of one of Argentina's great foundation mares, Ante Diem. This is just the kind of sturdy backbone at an urgent premium in the modern breed.

(Listen to this column as a podcast.)

More Than Ready himself, of course, was by a stallion who did so well in Argentina that he reverse shuttled to Kentucky–and what a blessing that was, given that Southern Halo replicated the great Almahmoud as granddam of both his sire Halo and damsire Northern Dancer. These timeless genetic brands were never about brute size, one of many misplaced obsessions of commercial breeders today, and More Than Ready was built on corresponding lines. But he still stood out a mile to J.J. Pletcher, the day he found him way out the back hill at Keeneland. Endorsed by another outstanding judge in Eddie Rosen, More Than Ready became so versatile an influence that we tend to forget what a commercial paragon he was on the track, all precocity and speed. His 10-length romp in the GII Sanford S. was already his fifth straight win, and he cut back to sprinting when returning to Saratoga the following summer to win the GI King's Bishop S.

In between, it had felt pretty well obligatory to roll the two-turn dice for the Derby, and perhaps it's going to prove a similar story at Del Mar on Saturday when Flightline (Tapit) stretches out for the GI TVG Pacific Classic.

This horse is already doing great things, but that doesn't yet make him a great horse. If we're seriously supposed to reconcile ourselves to the miserable possibility that Flightline might be wilfully confined to half a dozen starts, then at least we must thank his connections for exploring his talent so far as that meteoric passage would permit. He crossed the continent for the GI Hill 'n' Dale Met Mile off a long layoff, for instance, and now takes on some hard-knocking stayers at their own game.

And, as with More Than Ready, not to mention a horse that once brought a Citation-sized streak into the Pacific Classic, the race is not always to the swift. Even to the very swift.

Flightline, to this point, is a phenomenon that couldn't really happen in Europe. His serene indifference to the upgrading of his opposition has merely served to confirm what his speed figures had already told the handicappers. The fact is, however, that the test anticipated at Belmont didn't really materialize. And he will no longer be measured only against the clock, now that he is set so very different an examination.

Nobody would deny that he appears to have the stuff of greatness. To European sensibilities, however, 312 seconds is an insufficient body of evidence for his elevation to the pantheon. And actually, even if he were to smash up these horses the way he has all others, I would be reserving my first plaudits for a trainer who could win the premier summer prize of his home state with four different horses in five years–with Hronis Racing, moreover, a fortunate party to each.

That run was initiated by the late-blooming Accelerate, who the previous year had joined Arrogate (another cautionary precedent among perceived invincibles) in taking a rear view of Collected. Nobody needs to tell John Sadler or his clients, then, about the fulfilment available when a horse is permitted to mature to the peak of his powers. But the opinion that Flightline is the most valuable stallion prospect ever to go to stud, while pardonable in one fortunate to have a stake in whatever his value proves to be, would certainly not have been aired in times when the measure of greatness was rather more exacting.

Nearly all the names you might sensibly shortlist for the top dozen American Thoroughbreds of all time underpinned their brilliance with competitive longevity. Whether the horsemen of today are nervous of real or perceived deficiencies in their charges, I guess we just have to get used to it. But unless and until horses are again asked to demonstrate their resilience, then even horses as infectiously exciting as Flightline will never again reach the same kind of public; and nor will breeders of the future know quite what they're getting.

In which case, never mind the race going to the swift. Everybody, after all, knows what a fast horse looks like. But how on earth can we know whether or not the battle is to the strong?

The post This Side Up: Flightline Ready For More Altitude appeared first on TDN | Thoroughbred Daily News | Horse Racing News, Results and Video | Thoroughbred Breeding and Auctions.

Source of original post

This Side Up: The Vital Quest for New Joy

Polite but perfunctory. That was pretty much the tone in which people tended to praise Kitten's Joy while he was with us, and I guess it should be no different now that he's gone. Even so, it strikes me that his loss has been inadequately lamented. Not just in his own right, as an avowed turf stallion who freakishly contrived two general sires' championships in North America; but also, virtually unremarked, as a final straw in what has over the past nine months become an outright catastrophe for the enlightened minority persevering with grass breeding in Kentucky.

Last November, the sustained challenge of English Channel to the primacy in this sphere of Kitten's Joy was unraveled by a sudden illness at 19. In March, Crestwood lost Get Stormy out of the blue at 16. And now we must bid farewell to the elder statesman himself, at 21.

Listen to this column:

Given the grim commercial odds to be overcome by anyone attempting to launch a turf sire in Kentucky, this trio's departure represents a colossal test of the way many Americans talk a good game about populating an expanding turf program. Because when it comes to walking the walk, they have tended to head straight to the exit the moment a yearling with chlorophyll in its pedigree is led into a sale ring.

One breeder's existential challenge, admittedly, can be another's game-changing opportunity. There are some promising young stallions around with the potential to fill these intimidating vacancies. Karakontie (Jpn) has been getting black-type action at an auspicious percentage, and should kick on again once over a numerical bump in the road with his current sophomores. In fact, he has just had three stakes winners in three days, one becoming his first millionaire. Oscar Performance, meanwhile, has been launched with real panache by a farm making a welcome return to the stallion game, and is already making a mark with his early runners.Even as it was, however, we're already well accustomed to the American turf program being farmed by European imports, whether as horses in training or, increasingly, from the elite yearling sales. Both the Grade I prizes contested on grass over the past two weekends were harvested by Chad Brown with one of each model, Adhamo (Ire) (Intello {Ger}) being acquired as a French Group winner last fall and In Italian (GB) (Dubawi {Ire}) as a Book I yearling at Tattersalls.

But this kind of lopsided trade stores up trouble on both sides of the water. While a lucrative export market offers a crucial avenue to viability for European horsemen contesting inadequate prizemoney, it may ultimately contain the seeds of its own demise through the ongoing dilution of standards. And while purse money is plainly superior in the U.S., it surely can't supplant commercial breeding as the driver to sustainable investment. It's great that these imports can earn big on the racetrack, but they won't ever offer that home run in the breeding shed unless or until the Bluegrass changes its commercial perspective on turf blood.

Because right now you wouldn't give even a new Nasrullah (Ire) much of a prayer. We obviously wouldn't have had Bold Ruler or Nashua, and everything they have since entailed, if Kentucky breeders in the 1950s had been as insular in their outlook as their successors today.

The same farm that imported Nasrullah had, of course, already demonstrated the transferability of European turf blood through the likes of Blenheim (GB) and Princequillo (Ire). But if they could now bring even Frankel (GB) over the water, I wonder how low his fee would have to go before commercial breeders thought he would represent a feasible play.

I have regularly cited the same program's Flintshire (GB) as an especially flagrant example of the way things are today. Supplanted as Juddmonte's highest earner only by a member of the same family in Enable (GB) (Nathaniel {Ire}), he was nonetheless reduced to a final Kentucky book of eight mares before finally returning to Europe in despair. If Kitten's Joy and English Channel couldn't earn the indulgence of the market, with its inflexible prejudices on physique, then what chance did Flintshire ever have—even at a farm as far-sighted as Hill n' Dale?

It was John Sikura, of course, who gave Kitten's Joy a fresh Kentucky platform when his owners had become so incensed by commercial indifference that they very nearly put pen to paper to stand him in Europe instead. In the parallel world where that deal was done, however, it would have been instructive to see what kind of reception Kitten's Joy would have had over there. Even after finding a European champion in Book I of the 2016 September Sale for $160,000—and the tragedy of Roaring Lion only raises the stakes for Oscar Performance and others, in terms of their sire's legacy—David Redvers was still able to return to the same auction two years later and buy a G1 2,000 Guineas winner for barely half that price. European investors, it seemed, had learned little more respect for the horse than the local market.

Little wonder, then, if they remain still more unimaginative when it comes to the kind of dirt blood that has, historically, stimulated cyclical regeneration in the European gene pool. For another constant complaint of mine is that this has to be a two-way street, and this mutual schism will ultimately prove equally damaging to the Europeans.

As things stand, we must simply hope that the plucky few who remain more interested in fast horses than fast bucks—and, on any sustainable model, that must also mean horses competent to run hard and long—can respond to the crisis with exactly the kind of flair that already sets them apart. Those who did keep the faith with Kitten's Joy, English Channel and Get Stormy must now stick to their guns, and seek out their replacements.

They know where to look, after all. The farm that grieved Get Stormy, for instance, perseveres stubbornly with the same brand: teak-tough runners and/or aristocratic pedigrees. Nor must we neglect the potential contribution of stallions that might, in this perverse environment, have their commercial credibility damaged if unduly promoted as equally effective influences on turf, such as American Pharoah, Not This Time, Twirling Candy or Blame.

But on the weekend when Zandon attempts to renew the fleeting impression he made on the home turn in the Derby, in a compelling race for the GII Jim Dandy S., it would be remiss not to finish with a nod to the farm that may have marked its 50^th anniversary with the emergence of a new Indian Charlie or Harlan's Holiday in his sire Upstart.

Because Airdrie's fidelity to the kind of genetic resources most urgently required by the modern Thoroughbred gives breeders of sufficient vision a chance to roll the dice on a son of Kitten's Joy receiving precious little oxygen even in this suffocated division. Divisidero won graded stakes across five consecutive seasons, accumulating 13 triple-digit Beyers, and was denied his third Grade I in the Breeders' Cup Mile by barely half a length. Critically, moreover, the four mares in his dam's third generation are (drum roll, please): Miesque, Lassie Dear, Height Of Fashion (Fr) and a daughter of Cosmah. Not too many Thoroughbreds could better that, anywhere in the world.

True, his studmate Preservationist comes extremely close, with Natalma, Weekend Surprise and Too Chic. Down the shedrow, meanwhile, Cairo Prince is proving quite a flexible influence, in terms of surface, while Airdrie is also showcasing a son of War Front—the one patriarch of our time to have maintained elite stature at the sales despite an aptitude for turf.

Obviously War Front now has a luminous new dirt prospect starting out elsewhere, in Omaha Beach, but attractive channels for his versatility include not just Summer Front at Airdrie, but War of Will alongside his sire at Claiborne—who, promisingly, were pushed to their absolute limit in his debut book.

War Front's own traffic is naturally being managed more conservatively than ever, as he enters the evening of his career. He has long been beyond the reach of most breeders anyway, but remember that he only owes his credibility in Europe to opportunity (thanks largely to John Magnier). And that's the one thing—opportunity—breeders need to be brave enough to give some of these young turf stallions now.

The post This Side Up: The Vital Quest for New Joy appeared first on TDN | Thoroughbred Daily News | Horse Racing News, Results and Video | Thoroughbred Breeding and Auctions.

Source of original post