I Got All I Need And That's Alright By Me

[Sam]

Horse Confianza
Jockey Sam Lettington on Zazzy (Confianza)
Notes None
Purpose Workout for Kentucky Derby

The colt wasn't much.
At least not paper wise.

He wasn't much of a threat in the Kentucky Derby. A long shot, really. Even an underdog, if you will.

No, Zazzy didn't have much in comparison to the other horses. His parents weren't known. His background was shady. His personality was glitchy. He was prone to panic attacks and didn't trust a sole unless they worked darn hard for that trust.

All Zazzy had was his own four hooves, his heart, and me. And even that wasn't much! (Me, I mean.)

I was an experianced trainer and preformed amazing races on a normal basis. If I could have Nut, a Grade five racer go nose to nose with a Grade One stallion and only lose by a nose, then I could get this colt in the top three, at least.

But then agian, that was Nutters. Zazzy was a different horse entirely.

My thoughts left me as I trotted him outside of the track. He was calmer today, understanding he wouldn't have to go onto the track for his warm up and get straight to the fun stuff as soon as he was on the track. This may cause a problem in the future, but I had arranged for him to be blind folded until he arrived at the gates so he wouldn't work himself up.

I smiled and rubbed his neck, careful not to make any swift movements that might induce a spell of his.
After a few rides, I realized what caused his spells.

Swift movements towards him, burning smells, whips in general, and on an extremely bad day, a popping of a whip can cause him to go under. Luckily, while he's galloping, none of this bothers him. But some days, nothing happens at all and he'll just bulk, spin, and gallop like a bat out of hell. I often assume that his mind just plays tricks on him and he believes he sees a 'monster'.

I turned him towards the track and had him walk at through the entrance- not wanting to show the bad sportsmanship of trotting in or out of the gate like I've seen many a jockey and rider do countless times before. More of a pet peeve of mine really.

Already, the colt's stride grew short and his neck became tense. His eyes were lined with white in fear. Any other person would believe that Zazzy was terrified of the track.

Perhaps he was. But he loved running too much for me to make him do anything else.

As soon as we were a stride from the track, I urged Zazzy into an easy hand-gallop to the ten furlong marker. As always, the colt bulked for a moment before bolting forwards. He was frantic at first, hungry for the speed and happy for the relief of galloping.

I smiled and let him have his fun for a few strides before I pulled him back down to a hand-gallop then slowed him down to a brisk canter. Zazzy was fine with this, though he was a tad bit stiff.

Soon, the ten furlong marker came into view.

I held Zazzy steady and waited for the marker to become even with our shoulders. Wait for it. I forced myself to keep him steady. Even I loved the gallop so much I was like a horse that didn't understand to rein in his energy until the stretch.

Luckily for both Zazzy and I, the ten furlong marker came quickly.

I let the colt go with a kiss and an emphasized hand movement down his neck.

Zazzy's stride picked up immediately. His pace change from canter to gallop was so smooth and graceful, I had only noticed the speed change. Zazzy was perfectly at ease at his gallop, that I purposely kept a little slow due to the length of the race.

He kept it easy and light to the first turn, which he took rather easily. He hugged the rail and seemed to be as casual as you could be at a gallop. It was as if he was simply taking a stroll through the park.

Though, it was probably because he wasn't paying much attention and had let his mind wander. I decided to allow him to. He kept up the pace and was even trying to push it a bit, but a steady pressure on the iron two-joint snaffle in his mouth kept him at the desired pace.

Soon the backstretch was over and the final corner was coming up. Just in time, the colt under me seemed to wake up.

His pace quickened and he pulled heavily on the bit. His ears pricked and his head picked up a bit after he realized I wasn't going to let him go early.

Just wait a bit, boy, I said as we started to make our turn around the final bend. I let him slip farther away from the the rail, knowing that in the actual race, he may just as well have to.

Soon though, but never soon enough, the final, agonizingly long turn came to a close and the stretch opened up in front of us.

Zazzy didn't wait for me to give him a signal. He knew exactly what he was suppose to do. He knew his purpose when he galloped. He was sure of himself. This was Zazzy. Not the jittery mess during warm up.

I smiled and let him take all the rein he wanted. I didn't dare let him have all the rein though. I trusted him to do his job, but in case a spell came about, I wanted to be prepared.

His strides grew long and quick. He didn't seem to be galloping casually down the track now. Now, he had a job and was proving it with every powerful push of his haunches and might stretch with his forelegs.

That's it buddy! I praised. Zazzy immediately perked up to the praise and began to sprint faster, spurring himself on.

His golden hind tucked slightly and he pounded his hooves into the dirt, gaining more leverage for each stride. His muscles rippled under his gold covered hide. They felt powerful under my hands when they briefly touched them to follow Zazzy's tugging mouth.

His creamy white mane whipped my face lightly, but it didn't bother me much at all. If anything, it brought some sort of strange comfort from the familiarity.

The golden colt's breathes came out quick and loudly. His nares flared, grabbing greedily at the oxygen his racing heart and lungs demanded to power his burning muscles.

All too quickly, it was over.

For a moment, the colt and I kept going for several strides until I realized that we had passed the wire.

With a grin, I stood up in the stirrups and began to slow him. I gave him a heart pat on his neck, not fearing this to induce a spell due to his clear mind while galloping.

Like always, he rolled his neck into my hand, enjoying the praise and attention.

So Zazzy may be the long shot, underdog, and dark horse in the race. But I was hoping that by the end of the race, he may end up being the upsetter.

Word Count 1,196