Ahead of the latest appearance of Cody’s Wish in the Whitney, Steve Dennis salutes a popular equine hero to rank alongside the ranks of Seabiscuit, Cigar and Zenyatta in terms of public affection
Wait long enough, they say, and everything comes back into fashion, although View From The Rail is still waiting patiently and hopefully for the rehabilitation of the sort of shirt Chuck Berry wore when he played the BBC Television Theatre in London in March 1972.
And that effect is being seen in racing at the moment, the sport benefiting immensely from a phenomenon returning to prominence, coming back into view on a wide, looping orbit to light up our sky once more, just when it’s needed most. It’s been a while, but America’s Horse is here again.
There’s no official title of ‘America’s Horse’, there are no industry heavyweights empanelled to caucus their way to a unanimous verdict. We just know one when we see one, and he or she can gain that high office only by popular vote. Emotive, uplifting, transcendent, America’s Horse is as much our hero as any super-powered wrong-righter in cape, mask and tights.
There are rules, of course, like all the best games. America’s Horse has to win a lot of races, although he/she doesn’t have to be an all-timer on ability alone. America’s Horse has to stick around for a while, has to be tough, has to be willing, has to repay our hopes and dreams with victory at the most crucial moment – occasional defeat is fine, adds a little endearing vulnerability to the mix, but when the chips are down America’s Horse has to run the table.
But more than anything, America’s Horse has to be on our side, a friend, a sidekick, a lighthouse in the darkness showing the way home across the choppy seas of life. America’s Horse has to bring people together.
Small, ungainly, from humble origins
Seabiscuit was once America’s Horse. Small, ungainly, from humble origins, he manifested the can-do, indomitable spirit emblematic of a nation. His exploits lit up the bleakness of the Depression era, a dollar or two on his nose a better investment than anything Wall Street could offer, and 40 million stood in silence near a radio when he bested War Admiral in that incandescent match-race at Pimlico in 1938. America paused, holding its breath, for America’s Horse.
Kelso was America’s Horse. Secretariat would have been America’s Horse, but he so obviously came from outer space that the question never arose. John Henry was America’s Horse, an updated Seabiscuit, as hard and as good and as brave as any horse could be, his wait-and-come-late tactics always a thrill. Thirty-nine wins from 83 starts; he really earned all the love that came his way.
Alysheba was America’s Horse – listen to Tom Durkin calling the 1988 Breeders’ Cup Classic, that cry of confirmation as Alysheba emerges from the near-darkness in front, his destiny within reach.
So was Cigar, another who took time to unite the nation behind his brilliance but then mesmerised it through the magnificent repetition of his winning streak, including that perfect-ten 1995 campaign when he became not just America’s Horse but its invulnerable idol. In case you were not convinced, Jay Hovdey’s Cigar biography carried the title America’s Horse.
Tiznow too, perhaps, his victory in the 2001 Breeders’ Cup Classic at Belmont Park coming just a few weeks after the terrorist atrocity across town at the Twin Towers in Manhattan, a bruised, beleaguered America looking to a horse for a small, encouraging light in the darkness. “Tiznow fights on … desperately close … Tiznow wins it for America!”
Zenyatta was America’s Horse, her spiralling winning streak almost hypnotic, as reliable as a Swiss watch. Such a polite horse to let everyone go first, such a ruthless horse to cut them down every time. As a vessel for our awe and adoration the big mare was perfect, and that final defeat didn’t change a thing.
Now, 13 years on – American Pharoah wasn’t around long enough to be America’s Horse – we have a successor, the heir of the ages. America’s Horse is among us again, and his name is Cody’s Wish.
A quick glance over his resumé is not quite enough to give him the job straight away – winning streak but by no means perfect, tick; John Henry-esque late-closing style, tick; tough, willing and around for a while, tick. Enough for a second interview, sure. So, Cody’s Wish, thanks for coming back, and why should we give you the job?
More than a horse
If you don’t know by now, you never will. Cody’s Wish is more than a horse, he is a vehicle for the sort of communal goodwill that makes a rotten world a better place. His eerie, inexplicable relationship with the disabled teenager Cody Dorman has done more than simply give him a name, it has also given him a role, a purpose.
If Cody’s Wish spent his working hours at Thistledown or Belterra Park, and had a four-for-20 count, he would still be a remarkable animal for that bond between he and Cody Dorman, that Twilight Zone frisson that tells us there’s more out there than we’ll ever know. He wouldn’t be famous, though. He wouldn’t be America’s Horse.
His ability, his six-streak, his four successive G1 wins, maybe more to come on Saturday in the Whitney at Saratoga, has given him the platform to bring people together, ostensibly and sincerely in support of his teenage pal but also in celebration of a sport that is losing acceptance within and without what we like to call the ‘racing bubble’.
Jason Servis was in all the headlines four years ago for his training of Maximum Security, a name with a darkly ironic twist now that he’s doing four years in prison for his part in a widespread doping scandal.
What the public sees
That’s what the public sees, and what we try to rationalise among ourselves as ‘another bad apple’.
The great trainer Bob Baffert hasn’t been permitted to run horses at Churchill Downs, and therefore in the Kentucky Derby, for the last two years, and nor will he next year either, owing to the Medina Spirit medication violation saga. That’s what the public sees.
It also sees dead horses, 12 of them at Churchill Downs this spring, enough – more than enough – to shutter the racetrack while safety improvements are made. The modern public may be divorced from the horse these days, lacking the involvement and association with the breed that it once had, a knowledge that has been replaced by ignorance, but it knows a scandal when it sees one, it knows when things aren’t right, it knows bad news when it hears the headlines. And right now, racing is producing more bad news than it can handle.
But the public can also see Cody’s Wish, marvel at his backstory as well as his winning streak, see the hope he offers to the remarkable Cody Dorman and to others like him, this uplifting tale evidence of the manifold unseen possibilities of life. When the grandstands rise as one to acclaim a horse not everyone has bet on, when a hundred thousand people are cheering for the ‘right’ result, when everyone is suddenly in tears because one particular horse has crossed the line in front, you know there’s hope, hope on the hoof and riding to the rescue.
For not only does Cody’s Wish show a better side of racing, he shows us the better side of ourselves. We subscribe to what he represents: hope where there was none, delight rising out of disappointment, a group of individuals realising that they are a community after all, one for all, all for one, and together they are stronger and more able to withstand the vicissitudes of life.
And he can run like a champion too. At time of writing, Cody’s Wish is the front-runner for Horse of the Year, although there is a long way to go and a lot to do before that particular award is handed out. Whatever lies in destiny’s path, though, Cody’s Wish has one title that is not open to doubt.
It’s been out of fashion, out of sight, but great things never die and it’s back again, right on time. We all stand up and shout for America’s Horse.
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