This is the updated version of my blog post "The Story of Miss Fifty," which was published on February 3, 2012.
On December 20, 2012, an updated version of this article was published on BloodHorse.com as part of Esther Marr's blog Beyond the Blinkers. You can read it on Blood-Horse
here.
It was simply supposed to be a
new experience, something fun that would expose me to another part of the sport
of horse racing, the part of the industry that I did not realize at the time
would become the section of the industry for which I would find my greatest
passion. My trip to the under-tack show for the 2010 Fasig-Tipton Texas-Two-Year-Olds in Training Sale wasn’t supposed to change my life. But it
did, and I am so grateful that it did, all thanks to a Thoroughbred filly.
Love at First Sight
Bred by Zenyatta’s owners Jerry
and Ann Moss, the filly was born in Kentucky on April 18, 2008. As a yearling,
she was sold for just $10,000 at the 2009 Keeneland September Yearling Sale and
as a two-year-old, was consigned to the Fasig-Tipton Texas Two-Year-Olds in
Training Sale as hip fifty.
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Miss Fifty
Photo by Terri Cage |
After breezing in the under-tack show, the filly was returned to her stall on
Lone Star Park’s backside. Later that day, my parents and I visited the barn
area to look at the horses consigned in the sale.
Leading up to the sale, I had studied the catalogue, writing down horses I was
impressed with based on pedigree. Hip fifty was one of them. I was even more
impressed by the filly after watching her work on the track, in which she moved
with a beautiful, flowing stride. The daughter of Johannesburg was one of many
horses I visited on the backside with my parents.
But no other two-year-old caught my attention more than hip fifty. The chestnut
filly captivated me with her sweet personality, acting like a puppy. When I
ambled up to her stall, the daughter of Johannesburg eagerly walked up to me,
nuzzling at me. I gently rubbed her face and she allowed me to hold her dainty
head in my arms. I stayed there for several moments, just cradling her head. As
I walked away from the filly, I caught the two-year-old staring at me as if she
didn’t want me to leave. Honestly, I didn’t want to leave either. I wished I
could somehow garner thousands of dollars so I could purchase the affectionate
filly for myself.
Needless to say, I couldn’t get my mind off the filly, whom I had nicknamed
Fifty for her hip number. I anxiously awaited the results of the sale, finding
out that the daughter of Johannesburg had sold for $40,000 as the fifteenth
highest-priced horse in the sale to Dolphus Morrison, breeder and former owner
of 2009 Horse of the Year Rachel Alexandra.
I decided to find Dolphus Morrison’s address and once I did, I wrote a letter
to him, explaining how much I loved the filly by Johannesburg he had just
purchased. For days, I awaited a reply and frequently checked online to see if
the filly had been officially named.
Not long before I received a reply from Mr. Morrison, I found that the filly
had been named Miss Fifty. I was blown away and left wondering if Mr. Morrison
had named the filly Miss Fifty because of my letter. My thoughts were confirmed
when I soon received a letter from Mr. Morrison, in which he told me he had in
fact named her Miss Fifty for the nickname I had given her.
Fifty was sent to Mr. Morrison’s go-to
trainer, Lon Wiggins, son of Hal Wiggins, who trained Rachel Alexandra up until
her impressive Kentucky Oaks (gr. I) victory. Fifty made her first start in
October 2010 at Keeneland Racecourse. I kept my eyes glued to my television
screen, watching as the filly loaded into the gate. Just when it seemed as if
she and Calvin Borel would open up on the field, an eventual graded stakes
winner swept by her, followed by four more horses. Fifty finished a decent
fifth out of twelve two-year-old fillies. In her next start, a maiden special
weight at Churchill Downs, Fifty was never really a factor and finished last in
a field of eleven. Nonetheless, I was excited for her future.
The Defining Moments
The third time I contacted Mr.
Morrison, I was full of optimism, as I informed him that my family and I were
visiting Kentucky for the Breeders’ Cup. The prestigious event was of course
being contested at Churchill Downs, the track at which Miss Fifty was stabled.
Much to my delight, Mr. Morrison and Lon Wiggins arranged for me to visit Fifty
at Churchill Downs on Breeders’ Cup weekend.
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Visiting Fifty
Photo by Terri Cage |
On Friday morning of the Breeders’ Cup, my sister, my mom, and I visited Mr.
Wiggins’ barn. Mr. Wiggins led me to Fifty’s stall, allowing me to duck under
the stall guard to visit the filly. I did so, cautiously walking up to her.
Fifty turned her head when she heard me approaching, pricking her ears and
tossing her nose in my direction. I smiled, stepping forward and allowing her
to sniff my hand. I then stroked her face, telling her how much I’d missed her.
I’d never dreamed I’d get to visit the filly. Yet, there I was, over seven
months after I had met her, pampering the chestnut on the backside of Churchill
Downs during Breeders’ Cup week. It was absolutely surreal.
After watching a stablemate of Fifty’s gallop over the track, it was time for
the filly I adored to head out to the track. I thought I would simply just go
watch, as I had with her stablemate, but Mr. Wiggins handed me the lead and showed
me the way to the gap. I was actually leading Fifty toward the track. And it
wasn’t just any track; it was Churchill Downs, the track on which a plethora of
the greatest moments in the sport have taken place, the track on which so many
dreams had been attained in a single moment. For me, that was one of those
moments.
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Leading Fifty onto the track
Photo by Terri Cage |
I thought I was dreaming as I led Fifty onto the dirt surface. Across the
expansive track, the Twin Spires smiled back at me as classy horses galloped
and jogged past on the renowned oval. I unclipped the lead from the filly’s
bridle and Mr. Wiggins allowed me to stand alongside the filly on the track. I
did so, stroking her silky neck and shoulder as she stared inquisitively at the
other horses galloping by.
Fifty then headed off for her gallop and I stood at the gap, watching Breeders’
Cup horses as I waited for her to come into view. Once I spotted the exquisite
chestnut galloping beneath her exercise rider, my eyes locked on her, watching
her gallop past me. It was a beautiful sight and one that will forever be
engraved in my mind. Her breath came in snorts that were in sync with her
stride, her hoofs beat over the dirt, and her ears were pricked eagerly as she
galloped past, leaving me mesmerized by the sight of her in motion, the iconic
Twin Spires acting as the perfect backdrop.
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With Miss Fifty
Photo by Terri Cage |
After Fifty was cooled out, we did a short photo-shoot with the filly and me.
While the grade one-winning Paddy O’ Prado received a bath just a few feet
away, I stood alongside Fifty outside of Mr. Wiggins’ barn, smiling into my
mom’s camera. Considering my mom is a photographer, grinning for the camera can
get quite old and fake. But this smile was far from fake – it was completely
genuine.
That wasn’t the end of the morning. Mr. Wiggins led us to the other side of the
backstretch to catch a glimpse of the great Zenyatta, my favorite racehorse of
all-time. It was my first time to ever see the incredible mare and I stood
breathless as I watched her walk onto the track before galloping in preparation
for her final race. That wonderful morning provided me with the greatest day
yet of my life and I will forever be grateful to Mr. Morrison and Mr. Wiggins
for such an opportunity.
A Merry Christmas
Three weeks after my magical morning with Miss Fifty, the filly finished
eleventh against the males in a maiden special weight at Churchill, finishing
behind the eventual classic winners Fort Larned and Shackleford.
Mr. Wiggins then shipped his horses to Tampa Bay Downs. Fifty made her final
start as a juvenile on the day after Christmas, dropping into the claiming
ranks for the first time. I was incredibly worried that the beloved filly would
get claimed from the connections that had so graciously kept me involved with
her. Before leaving for a family Christmas celebration, I watched the race
anxiously, my eyes glued to the television. I knew she would likely do well,
but my main worry was that she would be claimed.
In the first race on Cotillion Cup Day at Tampa Bay Downs, Fifty broke quickly
and went to the lead in a maiden claiming (claiming price $25,000). She never
looked back from there and went on to win by a remarkable 7 ¾ lengths. Throughout
the entire homestretch, I was bouncing up and down with great joy.
However, the excitement began to wear off. Had she been claimed? The question
rang in my head for what seemed like eternity until I received a result
notification in my email. I anxiously opened the message, reading the results
chart to find out the answer to the question. With a huge sigh of relief, I
found that she had not been claimed. It truly was a merry Christmas.
A New Chapter
In January, her connections
tried her in a stakes race, but Miss Fifty faded to finish last in a field of
eight, losing to a future graded stakes winner. After two months off, Fifty
returned in a five-furlong allowance race at Tampa Bay Downs, finishing third.
Following two sound losses in Kentucky, Fifty revisited the claiming ranks.
Again, I became extremely anxious that she would be claimed. In a claiming race
(claiming price $15,000) at Churchill, Fifty finished a good second, one of her
best performances in some time. She seemed to have found the right level of
competition and much to my delight, she had not been claimed.
Three days later, I competed in
one of my biggest horse shows of the year. After returning home that evening, I
spent some peaceful moments outside my barn with my newly-crowned grand
champion mare, Pebbles. As the sun sank closer to the horizon, I leaned my head
against my beloved mare’s shoulder, enjoying the peaceful moment.
A few minutes later, that peace
was shattered. I came inside to learn that the backside of Churchill Downs had
been hit by a tornado. My thoughts immediately jumped to Fifty and the Wiggins
family. Frantically, I searched for news, praying that I would not find their
names on a list of casualties or injuries. When I found out that no one had
been hurt, it felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of relief on me.
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Miss Fifty
Photo by Terri Cage |
Just over a week after the tornado, Fifty was entered in a claiming race
(claiming price $10,000) at Churchill Downs. She was sent off as the second
choice and matched strides at the top of the lane with the favorite, a multiple
black-type-placed filly. However, Fifty found another gear and went on to win
the race by an easy 4 ¼ lengths under Calvin Borel.
As usual, I had watched the race live and, of course, was ecstatic that Fifty
had won. I’d had a gut feeling that she would find the winner’s circle, but a
certain gut feeling also existed: the sense that she would be claimed. Both gut
feelings were confirmed.
After I discovered who Fifty had been claimed by, I wrote Mr. Morrison,
thanking him for the entire experience. I knew my experience with sharing the
filly’s career with him was over, but I was not going to allow my involvement
with Fifty to end. She meant too much to me for that to happen.
For several weeks, my worry for
Fifty escalated. I hadn’t received any email notifications regarding the filly
and finally decided to send her new trainer a letter, explaining what Fifty
meant to me. Just days later, the trainer sent me an email, telling me to call
him.
I did. He informed me that the
filly had hurt her eye but should be fine. The bigger news? He told me that he
had enough horses and once they were done with Miss Fifty, I could have her. Needless
to say, I was jubilant.
Then Fifty was entered in a
race – a claiming race. She finished second in a claiming race (claiming price
$7,500) at Presque Isle Downs and after the race had been run, I was devastated
to find out that she had been claimed. I wasn’t going to give up on following
her, however. I would not allow this journey to come to an end because of
another bump in the road.
Fifty was not claimed in her
next start, a third-place finish in a claiming race at Presque Isle, but was
claimed out of her subsequent race.
I then contacted her new owners,
Long Shot Racing Stable, to get an update on her. With relief and joy, I found
out that she was doing well and had in fact put on almost one hundred pounds since
being claimed. It was comforting to be informed of this, as I had noticed while
watching her most recent races that she had become quite thin. I knew she was
in good hands and had again found connections I did not want her to be claimed
from.
On November 20, 2011, Fifty ran
in a claiming race at Charles Town (claiming price $10,000). Anxiously, I
watched the race online, my eyes fixed on the beautiful chestnut. Much to my
satisfaction, Fifty conquered the field by 5 ½ lengths. I was ecstatic that the
filly had returned to the winner’s circle and became even more joyous when I
learned that she had not been claimed and would remain with the Vrables of Long
Shot Racing Stable.
About a month later, Fifty
returned to the allowance level. I felt confident in her chances, as did the
betting public. She loaded into the gate as the heavy favorite for the allowance
race at Charles Town. With dread, I watched as she left the gate roughly and
galloped in front of the grandstand unevenly after the start. She never got
involved. I was extremely worried about the filly, but after contacting her
owner, I was relieved to find out that the trouble had been caused by the
jockey losing his irons. Fifty was fine. Near-disaster had been averted and I
hoped it was her only encounter with such a situation for the rest of her
career. But it wasn’t.
Miss Fifty’s Miracle
Four weeks after I shared Miss
Fifty’s story with my blog readers, Fifty made her first start after her
unlucky December outing. Like usual, I was perched before both my television
and computer, watching television coverage and the live feed on Charles Town’s
website. I had formed a prayer chain between my family, my friends, and myself,
praying for Fifty to stay safe in the running of the race. It wasn’t much
different than any other time she’d raced.
I fixed my eyes on Fifty as the horses raced down the backstretch, watching as
she found a position behind the leaders along the rail, gaining ground on the
inside as the field rounded the far turn. I was certain she was about to run a
huge race.
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Fifty
Photo by Terri Cage |
Then everything changed. The horse on the lead suddenly broke down in Fifty’s
path. I lost my breath and watched in horror as Fifty miraculously scrambled
over the fallen horse as the other horses in the field fell like dominos. I was
shaking uncontrollably as Fifty continued on under Oswald Pereira, crossing the
finish line all alone. The remainder of the horses had either fallen or lost
the jockey; she was the only horse to complete the race with a rider.
I was relieved that Fifty had not gone down, but I was still tremendously troubled.
Had she received an injury from clambering over the fallen horses? Would a loose
horse collide with her?
The latter fear nearly became reality in the gallop out. After pulling her up
after crossing the finish line, Pereira guided Fifty to the outside rail with
hopes of avoiding the riderless horses. However, one of the loose horses neared
Fifty at full speed and with seconds to spare, managed to avoid colliding with
her. My mother and I, watching the screen in dread, let out a giant sigh of relief.
I soon received word from Miss Fifty’s owner that the filly had suffered some
cuts on her legs that required stitches, but would be okay. Miraculously, Fifty
had avoided disaster. And that’s exactly what the incident had been for her: a
miracle. She had every chance to go down or to be slammed into, but somehow,
those things did not happen. God was watching over her.
What Fate Had in Store
Miss Fifty did not return to
the races for nearly five months, contesting in a claiming race at Charles Town
(claiming price $5,000). I was incredibly worried that the filly would be
claimed, but with joy, I watched the chestnut dash to a 3 ½-length victory,
exiting the race without having been claimed.
About two months later, Fifty recorded a bullet work at Charles Town. However,
days after that work, my iPhone indicated that I had a Facebook message from
her owner. I immediately thought of the worst possibility when I read the
opening words of the message that my phone previewed: “Sorry to have to tell
you this, but…”
But I was relieved not to find the words I dreaded. Rather, I learned that
Fifty had broken a sesamoid while training. What mattered most was that she
would be okay. She would, but her racing career was over and she would require lengthy stall rest. However, along with
this bad news came terrific news: it was now time for Fifty to become a part of
my family, something I had dreamed of since I met the filly.
Thanks to Nate Vrable of Long Shot Racing Stable and the help of Woodson Show
Horses, arrangements were made for Fifty to make the more than 1,200-mile journey to be with me. As her arrival approached, I found myself daydreaming of being
reunited with her as my enthusiasm grew more intense by the hour.
The day Fifty arrived in Texas was the same day I arrived in Southern
California for the 2012 Breeders’ Cup. Though I would have loved to be there
when Fifty reached my home, the filly would be an incredible thing to come home
to. As soon as the thrilling Breeders’ Cup culminated, I focused on returning
to Fifty, to my horse.
The moment I arrived at home, I dashed to the barn to greet her. And there she
was. Miss Fifty was in my barn. She was mine. I opened her stall door, my hands
tenderly stroking her face as my eyes locked on hers. Her kind eyes gazed at me
as she gently rubbed her lip against my hands. All I could think was, “Who’d
have known…?”
I never could have known when I wrote down hip fifty in my journal of horses to
watch at a nearby Fasig-Tipton sale in 2010 that it would lead to such an
incredible journey. Each time I see my beloved Fifty, I know that if I had
never had the courage to write Dolphus Morrison, I never would have essentially
experienced what it felt like to own a racehorse while I was so young. I never
would have led a horse onto the track at Churchill Downs as a young fan or come
within inches of the great Zenyatta. And most of all, I know God has blessed me
with a tremendous filly that will always be an important part of my life.
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Miss Fifty and me
Photo by Terri Cage |
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