Jerry continues, “We have drawn lots for
the post-positions and we must especially note those of the contention horses.
During the post parade we’ll memorize the colors of everyone’s
racing silks. Often during a race you can recognize the jockeys from behind
by the way they sit their horse and their style of riding. There are a million
things to think about all the way through the race.”
So
having said that, we mount up and ride out onto the track accompanied by
our pony boy. He may very well have a lead rope attached because some of
the racehorses are so cold-jawed and keyed up that they could actually run
away with their jockey before the race even starts. There is no doubt in
our horse’s mind what he is out there for, and he’s ready to
go!
“The trainer has told us how much he wants the horse warmed
up before entering the starting gate,” Jerry says. “So we have
a few minutes to take care of that. Then as we see the lead out-rider heading
toward the gate we know post time is near and the assistant starters, who
are on foot, begin loading the horses into the starting gates. An electric
current in the magnetic latches will spring them open at starting time.”
“The starters are your best friends at this time,”
explains Jerry. “They help calm obstreperous horses. Our starter goes
in ahead of us and we make sure he is not run over in the gate, although
there are side bars he can step up on.” |
Jerry
now trains Thoroughbreds and Arabian racing stock at Magali Farm near
Santa Ynez.
|
So we’ve got our horse in the starting
gate, looking straight down the track and we’re praying he doesn’t
stumble or get bumped coming out, because it’s going to be like being
aboard a rocket. Our ears are tuned for the tiny sound of that gate-latch,
which clicks a split-second before the bell.
Click!
Riing! The gate flies open and we’re off and running!
“Usually
when a horse comes out of the gate he’ll have his ears back,”
Jerry tells us. “The ears show he’s concentrating and determined.
You can read a lot from a horse’s ears. Forward ears means they are
relaxed and looking around and they’re usually in the lead. Then I
like to see those ears forward or waggling back and forth, because it tells
me that I’ve got a lot of horse left.”
I
asked Jerry about the story that Seabiscuit used intimidation by pulling
up to the lead horse and looking him right in the eye!
“Yes, some
horses just can’t stand to be looked in the eye,” Jerry answered.
“They’ll just give up. But a good horse will lay his ears back
flat on his neck and grit his teeth and run head to head and eye to eye
with him. Those horses don’t need any whip—you just hand ride
them.”
“Riding in a race you’re
following your plan and watching for an opening ahead to make your move.
If the jockey in front of you switches his stick to the left hand, it may
mean he’s going to go over to the right and there’s your opening.
When there’s a horse ahead of you, you’re watching to see if
it’s one that is apt to bear out in front of you as you pass, because
if you lose your momentum it’s hard to pick it up again. As you ride
you feel a lot through your knees and those reins are like a telephone wire!
You can feel that power under you and you can tell if you’ll have
that last burst of speed to cross the finish line first.”
What
about the horse’s desire to win?
“It’s
in the breeding,” says Jerry. “I’m sure it’s genetic
and strongly through the mare, in my opinion. Although the first thing a
potential buyer may ask will be ‘who’s he by?’ Most buyers
are very interested in the stallion, but I’ve found that if you have
a super mare, you can take her to almost any good stallion. But you want
a good ‘nick.’”
A racehorse is required
to carry a certain amount of weight to try to even out the field. It’s
not unusual to carry 117 to 123 pounds in a race. When Jerry was a seventeen-year-old
apprentice jockey, he rode at 107-lbs including his 2-lb saddle. Jerry won
an amazing 82 races his first year of riding!
In Laura Hillenbrand’s marvelous book Seabiscuit, we read about jockeys
committing fouls against each other. I asked Jerry if he had that problem
much or if the cameras take care of it now.
“I rarely had that
problem, because you have to be able to take care of yourself out there,”
Jerry says with a knowing smile.” The cameras do cut down on some
of it, but there is a fine line between a foul and intimidation. A foul
usually means there is actual contact. I do remember when I was riding a
race and coming up to the wire another jockey whacked me hard across the
wrist and my arm fell and went numb and he beat me by a nose. I didn’t
claim a foul because sometimes that’s race riding.”
“Another
jockey was just a wizard at knocking the whip out of your hand. After it
had happened a few times I gave him his own medicine and actually broke
his sticks twice. He stopped fooling with me and we never, ever discussed
it.”
“Ralph Neves was notorious for looking
right at you and then shutting you off,” Jerry mused. “I remember
one time I was about twelve lengths behind the leaders and not going anywhere
and there were no other horses around. Then here comes Ralph Neves with
plenty of room in front of him, but he starts squeezing in front of me and
I’m shouting, ‘Ralph!’ ‘Ralph!’ ‘Ralph!!’
But he just kept cutting me off and we clipped his horse’s heels and
almost fell. I was the new jock in town and I think he just couldn’t
help himself.”
“Well, I waited a couple
of weeks and then the right race came along. Neither of us were riding favorites
and I was near the back of the pack at the 3/8 pole. Sure enough, here comes
Ralph on the inside. So I let him get part way past and then I tightened
up the opening. I could hear his stirrup on the aluminum rail going screeeeeeech
and he’s yelling at me and backs off. But pretty soon here he comes
again and I did the same thing. It happened three times.”
“When
we got back to the jockey’s room, Ralph was so furious that the veins
were sticking out on his forehead and his neck. He started coming across
the room to my locker and I said, ‘Stop right there, Ralph. Remember
a couple of weeks ago when you squeezed me out and practically stood me
on my head and I almost crashed? Now we’re even. Turn about is fair
play.’ Well, he turned and walked away and after that we were great
friends.”
Being a jockey requires one to be
in top condition. In fact, in a survey of different types of athletes, cross
country skiers and jockeys proved to be the fittest in relation to their
size, even beating out football players, basketball players and boxers.
It may be because this sport is fraught with danger. There is a reason why
an ambulance is always nearby!
Jerry has had his share of spills: In 1987 the bit broke in the horse’s
mouth and he came off the horse backwards. Three horses ran over him and
left him with a broken ankle, broken ribs, a punctured lung, crushed cheekbone
and other injuries. In another race, when a horse in front of him fell,
Jerry went off and several horses galloped over him, but he emerged almost
without a scratch.
“Jockeys actually expect
to have about three spills a year,” he says. “The helmets have
been greatly improved and jockeys now wear a safety vest to protect them
if they are stepped on. But sometimes people are killed on the track.”
“After I took a bad spill in 1980 and I was mending,
I took a job as an out-rider for four years. Then when I was able to race
again, I went to another track and found that everything had changed. The
jockeys were coming out of the gate standing up with the reins flapping
in the breeze. When I asked why, they said they thought it made the horses
more relaxed. Well, I still rode down low with my reins collected so I could
feel my horse’s mouth and his action. I played those reins like a
piano and I would pass them like a turpentined cat,” he says with
a grin.
So given that this is still such a dangerous sport and jockeys must constantly
diet and battle their weight, what makes it so enticing as a career?
“It takes a certain breed of cat,” says Jerry.
“It’s the love of the horse, the money is good and it’s
a very exciting life!”
And now back to our race…coming
into the home stretch we’re running third, our horse’s ears
are laid back and the reins tell us there’s plenty of power left.
Then a space opens between the two horses in the lead and we shoot through
it. We hit the wire first! Of course! We’re riding with the great
Jerry Lambert! |
