Melbourne Cup

Registration Number: 7

Show: The Melbourne Cup

Horses Name: The Gremlin

Riders Name: Sam McLean

Extra Images: 
 

Previous Experience: 

1st in Thoroughbred-Society's Juvenile Stakes
3rd in Thoroughbred-Scoiety's Haskell Invitational  

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Prizes Donated: 

Headshots to 1,2, 3!

featuring!:
WBS Ghost Hour
BTs - Blackbeard Got Some Ink 

& OE Twilight Zone

Aaaand an extremely long story. I always burn out before I get to the *actual race* soo if I can be bothered I'll finish it..


Ok so I had foregone mention of quarantine’s here, but o well not rl.

___

It began as soon as they touched down in Australia. Gremlin had been on edge for the entire flight. Not violent or angry, but enough that it had put Rob similarly at unease. Due to his somewhat volatile nature, Gremlin was an expensive ship. All the other horses they had were smooth and could easily fly economy, but for the safety of everyone he need special treatment. He flew almost always with the same groom, a chap called Mike who worked for the airline, who had a strange knack with him. Either Gremlin liked him, or he didn’t care about him, but he was a calming influence. Nothing had happened yet to cause worry, but Mike reported he’d been more restless than usual. And as they departed from the plane, he did try to run away with a handler. 

Upon their arrival, there was tension in the air that could be noticeably felt as Gremlin seemed to be trembling with whatever energy he seemed to be feeling. The flight was long and arduous. And they arrived late in the evening. Though all exhausted, Rob and Willa took Gremlin to a nearby racing farm to give him some time out. They had prearranged the visit, and though it would be short it seemed essential for the animal. 

The visit to the farm was a dark blur in the minds of Rob and Willa, for it being so late, and so tired. The farm was a small breeding facility, much like the Ballenclieff, but without the training facilities, and seemingly no stallions. As they arrived, Rob noticed little groups of yearlings and two year olds in the pastures they passed. They pricked up their ears, some galloping alongside the van as they passed. They heard them call out to the mystery horse in the box, and he responded. 

Gail, an old friend, met them and the farm, and Rob embraced her. She was in fact a good friend of Fiona’s, and Rob lamented he hadn’t brought Gina and Sam with him that moment. She hadn’t seen Gina since she was a baby, and she had never met Sam. They were tired, it was a long journey, best get this boy out so we can all get some well deserved rest. 

The farm was modest but it was hard to appreciate it it’s loveliness in the dim light. Unloading Gremlin from his box, he was too excited in what was around him to actually bother being a menace. The night was warm. Summer was on the up, and it was a welcome change from the dreicht and bitter cold of Scotland. They would have several days here to acclimatise the animal to the weather before the big race. A race that for all it’s effort so many people said wasn’t worth it. Too bad, he thought. 

We’ll put Gremlin in the top pasture for now. There’s a shelter if he needs it but I doubt he will. There’s a bunch of gelded two year olds at the bottom, and tomorrow if they’re getting on then we can turn him out with them. Gail mused and Rob nodded, feeling his eyelids roll down. The pasture was not far, and considering Gremlin was also tired for once he was a one person job to get him there. Rob and Gail helped to quickly undo his boots (a task he never objected to, for he disliked his boots) and as they entered the gate, Willa seamlessly whipped off his bridle. 

Maybe we’ll regret not having the halter tomorrow, Rob said. We would regret it if we’d left him with on on, Willa replied.

Shutting the gate behind them, the three of them watched Gremlin shoot trot languidly off into the darkness. They heard the distant hellos of the colts in the bottom field, and he was off to investigate.

For a horse with his reputation, he’s quite low maintenance, Gail said. Rob and Willa laughed. True, he didn’t need much in terms of pampering. It’s his human maintenance that eats us alive. 

Well lucky you’ve got me to keep the boarding fees down, Gail laughed. Indeed. Rob replied, and turning from the gate, swung his arms around the both of them, and they headed off to bed. 

************* 

The morning of the Melbourne Cup was one alight with excitement. The team had arrived with Gremlin several days before, in order to acclimatise him to the track and what not, but ever since leaving the comfort of the small farm he’d been a nightmare. The minute they arrived at Flemington, he’d been at odds with everyone. Upon unloading, Rob watched with a mixture of dismay and (frankly) embarrassment as the Gremlin went after one and then both of the grooms that led him to the stalls. The two performed a merry dance between as they struggled to regain the tension on the lead ropes usually required to contain him. A small audience appeared, and most found amusement in the colt’s barbarity. A least Aussies had a good sense of humour. 

The Melbourne Cup was known for it’s glittering jewel status in the racing calendar. And somehow Gremlin had snagged a spot. A mostly unknown, extremely volatile grey smear on the clear glass of international racing. Rob recalled the odd analogy, said to him by Vinny. (The brave bastard who’d first attempted to ride the animal almost a year ago, and his first casualty. A casualty of pride, but one nonetheless.) But the sentiment was true. The Gremlin, for all his promoting breeding, was less of a beloved regular and more of the antagonistic dark horse (..) in the competition. His ill manner would stop being glamorous soon enough.

And although there was a gaggle of other international three year olds in the pack, he was one of the youngest, and certainly the least experienced. The team did not expect a win (he’d been so unfocused in recent weeks, they lamented ever entering the colt) but a race was a race, and the gamble was worth it if it got the devil’s name out there. 

But to the team’s dismay the Gremlin was insufferable all morning. The celebration in the air seemed to infect him, but with a strange dizzying rage. He was completely restless, and it seemed like he hadn’t had much rest the night before. When Willa had gone to check him in the morning he already had a layer of sweat. They were worried. He’d been checked as sound (as much as they could in his fevered state) and declared he was simply acting up. And the truth was, he almost certainly was. Volatile and young, his energy levels were skyrocketing and he wasn’t saving them for when it was needed. 

Saddling was a nightmare, and it was pretty much all hands on deck to finish the job. Willa narrowly avoided a good biting because she wore leather gloves, and that Gremlin liked her best. The whole morning was a tornado of running tensions and thinning patience. As the horses began to make their way to the track, no one got a chance to relax. Luckily Sam had had to go through his jockey checks so was in nowhere near the same state of everyone else. his unease would kick in when he saw the state of the team. Rob advised everyone to relax as much as possible, but there was little they could do. Gremlin was late in the order, but not late enough. 

So, without much of a choice the two grooms from before took the initiative and set off. Rob followed, walking next to the animal, ready to deal with the onslaught of dazzling paparazzi that was there to welcome the equine celebs to the fold. Sam would be waiting just tall Flemington gates in the mounting paddock. And there would be no going back. Rob moved quickly, sorting his suit out and trying to look presentable. He refrained from patting the horse on the neck, as might be customary for public appearances. And he felt the scratching clicks of cameras and the whine of news reporters begin. And just at that moment Gremlin chose to release his unmistakable siren shriek and, to Rob’s dismay, felt a great shadow fall over his head. 

he spun around to find the grooms grappling desperately with the leads. Around them, Rob ignored the gasps of and shouts of the crowd (along with, he winced, the distressed replies of the other horses) and tried to survey the situation while avoiding the cleavers above. He hoped and prayed with all his might that the animal would not charge. Please don’t run, you dick. Please, for the love of god don’t run. 

The snaps of the cameras around them made the event seem like Gremlin stood forever on his hind legs. Rob’s heart was in his mouth, and the two grooms wailed with fright as they tried to scramble out from underneath the animal. Damn, he was so tall. For a split second, in his invalidity, Rob could admire the height he could gain. His head was whipped back, and those big ugly eyeballs peered down at them like a snake in the grass. There had been times when Rob could understand the deep hate that some staff felt for this creature. Right now was one of them. Muddled deep within terrific and dangerous admiration. This was an animal that made Rob feel like Macbeth. 

And in a dizzying second later the Gremlin clattered back down to earth, and to everyone’s relief he did not run. he stood huffing and puffing, and in that second the grooms were on him, with backup, and their collective weight brought the whole earth down onto Gremlin’s dexter bit. That animal would be going nowhere now. Rob, placing a reassuring hand on the back of the nearest groom, turned to face the rupturing crowd outwit the fence, seeing Sam approaching in the distance. 

He caught his son by the shoulder, giving it a squeeze as the young jockey turned to mount the beast at a brisk walk. As predicted, Rob could see the unease penetrating the normally cocky boy like it was a physical presence. Their eyes met, but there was little point in explaining the colt’s unpleasantness. Sam already knew. The race would be a fight to finish. A fight against the colt’s worst instincts, never mind the rest of the field. 

In a graceful swoop Sam was up, and immediately Sam felt the colt’s body resisting. He was tensing, which would make for a bad run. As soon as they could Sam went for the track, to see it some light exercise would help calm the grey’s nerves and soften up his body. The colt’s physicality was chemistry. In this mood he was explosive in all the wrong ways. 

**** 

Luckily Gremlin was never one to wait around when it came to the gate. Today was no different, and without as much as direction from the track team he went smoothly in. Once again Sam prayed that no other horses would play up. He knew the red filly in the box next to him was equally nasty, and he hoped and prayed to every deity he didn’t believe in that she kept to herself today. Gremlin had his blinkers on - as always - but he knew she wouldn’t. Sam kept quiet as the other horses clattered in. Underneath him, he felt Gremlin’s energy quietly settle, as if it had all sunk to the bottom. Sandwiched between the red filly who he ignored as much as he could and the beautiful golden quiet chimera who he blessed under his breath, Sam sat tight as he felt the world stop as the last one entered the gate. The great gaggle of the crowd dipped into a hush, and that sweet but terrifying stretch of (the closest they would get to) silence sunk in before the bell. 


And they’re off. 

***