So, got my Thoro-Graphs and I've been chipping away. Naturally I went straight to the Classic. I've got some bad news for you. Bad, bad news.
Zenyatta's going to lose. I hate to say it. Believe me I do. I want to see her go 20-0 as much as anyone. But she's going to lose.
Hmmm, sounds like you've stumbled upon Saturday's 2.0 column ...
Don't forget to keep it locked at 2.0 Friday and Saturday for LIVE BLOGGING. The event is Good Ol' Pete's bachelor party and the reason is THE CARRYOVER!
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
A Stout for the Lady?
The 60 Minutes profile of Zenyatta aired last night and as a fan and follower of the sport, I loved it. Sure, there were those discrepancies that only a fan of this sport would notice like Bob Simon calling Zenyatta a filly and asking trainer John Shirreffs why he didn't run her in the Kentucky Derby as a three year old. (of she could, but, in all likelihood, she would've been an Oaks horse)
And what does Zenyatta have after a long day of work? A Guinness! I want to party with her. Also, she doesn't strike me as the type of mare that's going to make a drunken mockery of herself, dancing on the bar, and vomiting on the sidewalk and calling it a good night. Zenyatta has such poise that she will quietly sit in the corner, have her stout, give you a wonderful conversation about Dickens, kiss you on the cheek and walk into the night on her own. You'll watch her leave and ask, 'What just happened?' with the biggest grin on your face.
I suppose jockey Mike Smith thought his chair was going to buck him onto the floor. Not since first baseman John Olerud has there been someone wearing a helmet where no helmet had been worn before (at least Olerud had an excuse. He has a plate in his skull. Smith ... just a skull.).
What else was there to take away from the piece? Shirreffs is an amazing fellow. His demeanor, his look, how he composes himself is so heartfelt. He's like a grandfather, a proud grandfather. The way he said how he speaks to his horses and speaks to Zenyatta was so, I don't know, nice.
Zenyatta's pre-race antics and showboating made Mrs. Carryover laugh. She asked if Zenyatta was doing that on purpose.
Smith said that he hasn't seen Zenyatta's fastest gear. When he turns her for home on Saturday there is no reason to hold back, no reason to win this race by a nose, no reason to give us a damn heart attack. Zenyatta knows how to perform. Let her put on a show. Turn this mare loose and let the world feel fall to her feet.
I can drink a Guinness to that. Cheers!
And what does Zenyatta have after a long day of work? A Guinness! I want to party with her. Also, she doesn't strike me as the type of mare that's going to make a drunken mockery of herself, dancing on the bar, and vomiting on the sidewalk and calling it a good night. Zenyatta has such poise that she will quietly sit in the corner, have her stout, give you a wonderful conversation about Dickens, kiss you on the cheek and walk into the night on her own. You'll watch her leave and ask, 'What just happened?' with the biggest grin on your face.
I suppose jockey Mike Smith thought his chair was going to buck him onto the floor. Not since first baseman John Olerud has there been someone wearing a helmet where no helmet had been worn before (at least Olerud had an excuse. He has a plate in his skull. Smith ... just a skull.).
What else was there to take away from the piece? Shirreffs is an amazing fellow. His demeanor, his look, how he composes himself is so heartfelt. He's like a grandfather, a proud grandfather. The way he said how he speaks to his horses and speaks to Zenyatta was so, I don't know, nice.
Zenyatta's pre-race antics and showboating made Mrs. Carryover laugh. She asked if Zenyatta was doing that on purpose.
Smith said that he hasn't seen Zenyatta's fastest gear. When he turns her for home on Saturday there is no reason to hold back, no reason to win this race by a nose, no reason to give us a damn heart attack. Zenyatta knows how to perform. Let her put on a show. Turn this mare loose and let the world feel fall to her feet.
I can drink a Guinness to that. Cheers!
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