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Coming out of the Satsuki Sho, there were a lot of naysayers contending that the surprising win of Sunday Memory was due in part to the fact that he hadn't run much yet in his career, so he was fresher than the other horses. They couldn't touch his pedigree, he was regally bred and there was nothing there that suggested the horse couldn't have won. Instead they attacked his foul temperament, and his tendency to try to take a bite out of his competition. Honestly, none of that mattered to his trainer Momori, the horse had done exactly as he thought he would.
He'd stunned a crowd expecting to see a proven champion to silence when he fought him down the stretch and put away the exhausted Takenshi. And though both horses had come out of the race well, Takenshi was definitely winded. Whereas Sunday looked like he was ready to go again two days later. Thinking about where to send the two horses next was a trial, the media and the owning connections of both horses wanted them to run against each other again. To build up the rivalry and prove that Takenshi was superior to Sunday on a different day, on a different track. But Momori wasn't sure that would be the result.
Training showed that the loss had taken some of the confidence out of Takenshi's steps, he was careful, tucking his speed back against training partners until he could give a final and vicious burst of speed at the end. Whereas Sunday will still running full bore out of the gate for the lead, and no matter how hard he tried to retrain the colt he couldn't seem to get it to sink into his head that he could come from behind. It was a frustration that the colt would carry with him his entire career unfortunately, though Momori didn't know that at the time.
After a long conversation between the owners of both horses it was decided that they would face up again in the prep race, Wakagoma Stakes as they continued on the trail for for the Triple Crown. An ungraded stakes race primed perfectly for the two horses in distance and they thought that both would have a good chance of doing their best here. Though Momori didn't agree with the pre-race interviews and coverage he couldn't tell the owners no, not when something this big was happening at his own stable.
The media was taking the story and making it a good versus evil kind of race, the good and just warrior was of course Takenshi. The horse of Japan, the horse everyone wanted to see do something spectacular. And the evil horse was the little known black monstrosity, Sunday Memory. A massive horse lacking in classic type, and who had a so-so career before bursting on the scene in the Satsuki Sho. Obviously the horse was a one hit wonder and this time, this time, Takenshi would slay the mighty beast and put to rest the idea that this other horse was better.
It didn't help that Sunday's temperament perpetuated the concept of him being the evil one of the bunch, he was labeled an avenging demon by some press and it stuck. One headline even read: Avenging Demon Seeks to Slay Golden Warrior. The picture under it, and one that Momori framed in his office, was of the Satsuki Sho of Sunday pulling away from his new found rival at the quarter pole. He said it showed the spirit of both horses the best, the fire in their eyes, the muscles ripping as they worked harder than they ever had before to put each other away, to him it was the best representation of what these two had been bred to do.
As the days drew closer to the Wakagoma Stakes he set up training schedules for both horses to be apart from each other, one because he didn't like working Sunday with a lot of other horses around, and two the horse didn't care to work with an audience and no competition. But withholding racing competition was the proven way to get more out of him, it meant that when he was surrounded by a pack of horses he was more intense and wanted nothing more than to outrun them. So once again Sunday trained in the wee hours before dawn, surrounded by darkness and just a few onlookers who wanted to get a better look at a horse they believed to be a champion in the making.
Every morning that he trained there would be one man in particular leaning against the rail, now with a stop watch and notes ready to watch a horse he had a lot of faith in. He stuck out to Momori, knowing he was with the press corp made him that much more intrigued, most of them didn't care so much about times other than to scribble them down. But this man, this writer, he was a horseman and it was easy to tell.
One morning Momori walked over to speak to the man, feeling the breeze slap him in the face as Sunday went by it made him smile. "What's his time today?"
"2000M in 1:50 and change, he put up a new track record."
"He's not shown us anything yet, that's just him showing off. Wait until the race, then you'll really have something to write about." Momori spoke with an air of confidence about the colt as he was jogged back over to him. "Would you like to meet him?"
"Really?!" The younger journalist sounded excited and with a nod from Momori he watched as the man beckoned over the exercise rider.
"Bring him up here, I want this man to get a look at him." The rider did as he was bid and stood the colt next to the rail, Momori slipped over it and came to wave the journalist over. "Now come here, tell me what you think of him with a good hard look."
The journalist studied the horse closely reaching forward to touch him he paused and looked at the trainer, once he had the okay he went over the horse carefully and smiled. "He's stunning, built very well for a horse this big, good sturdy frame. Big bone, tough. He looks like a champion."
"He is." Sunday lifted his head and snorted eyeballing the journalist he tossed his head a few times. "Now none of that, behave yourself." There was a soft pat on the horse's nose and he shaped up some.
"Everyone says he's so vile and evil, but he demands respect doesn't he?"
"Oh yes, he knows he's special. You just have to focus that energy, he'll stumble a lot in his career, but I think he'll be the better horse for it. There's a fire in him that is precious, special, strong. Takenshi is a wonderful racehorse, and I'm sure he'll win more than this boy, but he doesn't have the fire this one does. Sunday isn't a warrior, he is passion. It ebbs and flows, but as long as you stoke that fire you'll never lose it." Momori smiled and rubbed the horse's cheek. "What's your name? I've seen you here every morning watching him, I'm pretty sure you're his only fan."
"Oh, it's Waylon." The American journalist smiled brightly, "Waylon Givens. I do a little writing on bloodlines and ones to watch out for, and someone sent me to cover Takenshi but...this boy captured my attention."
"As he should, you're a horseman?"
"Oh yes, my father owns a broodmare facility in Kentucky. We breed horses like this one, but don't race."
"Shame, you have a good eye. Maybe one day you'll consider taking up the reins instead of the pen." With another smile he dismissed the rider and let him go take Sunday to cool down. "Come by the barn before his next gallop out, I'll show you his routine. Takenshi's too, all access pass to both horses.
Waylon was thrilled! He'd come here for one piece but he was so caught up in all of the excitement that he planned on doing a series about the bloodlines behind these two colts and how it all came together to produce these two exceptional contenders.
Over the next several days the American spent a lot of time in Momori's stables, learning the routine, asking questions, and adding to his horse knowledge. Momori had taken a liking to him and on race day he asked Waylon if he'd ever been interested in training horses to race.
"Of course, I love it, finding out how they think. Its one of my dreams for a farm of my own one day, to work the horses and get them ready for races like this. Build them up from the inside out." Momori smiled, the answer was what he had hoped for and then some.
"Well, if you ever want to apprentice you have a position on my staff." With that he patted the man on the shoulder and pointed towards the owners boxes for both horses, "You should sit there today, you'll get the best story in the house up there." And so he did, eager to see the story unfold from the owners box he joined them and would spend the rest of the race soaking up their reactions.
As for Momori he spent the beginning of the race getting both of his runners prepared, even with the assault of reporters asking him to choose between the two colts he just waved them off. "Choosing between them, picking a favorite, is like trying to catch the wind. Why can't they both just be darn good horses?"
Outside of that he didn't give them much else waving them off when it was time to saddle up in the paddock. As usual he saddled Takenshi first, spending time making sure everything was in the right place before doing the same with Nichi who was mighty nippy this morning. Biting at his shoulder the big colt made a rough sound and tugged nearly pulling the man off his feet. "Stop that." The tone was calm and level and it made Nichi release his shirt with a knowing look, Momori always thought the horse was too intelligent for his own good.
Off to the post the horses went and away to the rail went Momori, he couldn't watch from the box like the owners did, he had to be as close to his horses as he could. Everyone loaded up nicely and then things changed. The gate opened and Nichi fell hard to a knee before pushing up and chasing after the pack, it had set him a good 10 lengths behind and he seemed to be stiffly moving against the rail.
Takenshi took the early lead, widening it as they continued on. He made the running look effortless, and he just kept pulling away. But slugging it out, twenty five lengths behind him was Nichi. The locomotive that was the black colt was starting to kick in and he began covering ground quickly, passing horses as they came around the last turn. In the turn he passed the bulk of the pack going wide on the outside, and then the whip cracked into his hip and he thundered forward with a renewed sense of vigor.
As they pulled into the stretch he was half a length behind Takenshi and closing fast, the crowd whooped in excitement and it only drove Nichi on. With another few cracks of the whip he drove forward, passing the tiring Takenshi who struggled to keep up the speed challenge from Nichi. Finally the wire drew near and the black colt had once again the avenging demon had clipped the wings of the golden warrior.
Featuring:
:origin()/pre07/7d15/th/pre/i/2016/057/b/5/sunday_memory_by_capnrcubey-d95553i.png)
:origin()/pre05/4d38/th/pre/i/2016/052/9/7/takenshi_by_capnrcubey-d9so1ea.png)
Other Story Images:
Wobbly Knees
A Rivalry Begins
Stealing the Glory
Demon's Day
Clipping Wings
Blood Sweat and Tears
Falling Angel
He'd stunned a crowd expecting to see a proven champion to silence when he fought him down the stretch and put away the exhausted Takenshi. And though both horses had come out of the race well, Takenshi was definitely winded. Whereas Sunday looked like he was ready to go again two days later. Thinking about where to send the two horses next was a trial, the media and the owning connections of both horses wanted them to run against each other again. To build up the rivalry and prove that Takenshi was superior to Sunday on a different day, on a different track. But Momori wasn't sure that would be the result.
Training showed that the loss had taken some of the confidence out of Takenshi's steps, he was careful, tucking his speed back against training partners until he could give a final and vicious burst of speed at the end. Whereas Sunday will still running full bore out of the gate for the lead, and no matter how hard he tried to retrain the colt he couldn't seem to get it to sink into his head that he could come from behind. It was a frustration that the colt would carry with him his entire career unfortunately, though Momori didn't know that at the time.
After a long conversation between the owners of both horses it was decided that they would face up again in the prep race, Wakagoma Stakes as they continued on the trail for for the Triple Crown. An ungraded stakes race primed perfectly for the two horses in distance and they thought that both would have a good chance of doing their best here. Though Momori didn't agree with the pre-race interviews and coverage he couldn't tell the owners no, not when something this big was happening at his own stable.
The media was taking the story and making it a good versus evil kind of race, the good and just warrior was of course Takenshi. The horse of Japan, the horse everyone wanted to see do something spectacular. And the evil horse was the little known black monstrosity, Sunday Memory. A massive horse lacking in classic type, and who had a so-so career before bursting on the scene in the Satsuki Sho. Obviously the horse was a one hit wonder and this time, this time, Takenshi would slay the mighty beast and put to rest the idea that this other horse was better.
It didn't help that Sunday's temperament perpetuated the concept of him being the evil one of the bunch, he was labeled an avenging demon by some press and it stuck. One headline even read: Avenging Demon Seeks to Slay Golden Warrior. The picture under it, and one that Momori framed in his office, was of the Satsuki Sho of Sunday pulling away from his new found rival at the quarter pole. He said it showed the spirit of both horses the best, the fire in their eyes, the muscles ripping as they worked harder than they ever had before to put each other away, to him it was the best representation of what these two had been bred to do.
As the days drew closer to the Wakagoma Stakes he set up training schedules for both horses to be apart from each other, one because he didn't like working Sunday with a lot of other horses around, and two the horse didn't care to work with an audience and no competition. But withholding racing competition was the proven way to get more out of him, it meant that when he was surrounded by a pack of horses he was more intense and wanted nothing more than to outrun them. So once again Sunday trained in the wee hours before dawn, surrounded by darkness and just a few onlookers who wanted to get a better look at a horse they believed to be a champion in the making.
Every morning that he trained there would be one man in particular leaning against the rail, now with a stop watch and notes ready to watch a horse he had a lot of faith in. He stuck out to Momori, knowing he was with the press corp made him that much more intrigued, most of them didn't care so much about times other than to scribble them down. But this man, this writer, he was a horseman and it was easy to tell.
One morning Momori walked over to speak to the man, feeling the breeze slap him in the face as Sunday went by it made him smile. "What's his time today?"
"2000M in 1:50 and change, he put up a new track record."
"He's not shown us anything yet, that's just him showing off. Wait until the race, then you'll really have something to write about." Momori spoke with an air of confidence about the colt as he was jogged back over to him. "Would you like to meet him?"
"Really?!" The younger journalist sounded excited and with a nod from Momori he watched as the man beckoned over the exercise rider.
"Bring him up here, I want this man to get a look at him." The rider did as he was bid and stood the colt next to the rail, Momori slipped over it and came to wave the journalist over. "Now come here, tell me what you think of him with a good hard look."
The journalist studied the horse closely reaching forward to touch him he paused and looked at the trainer, once he had the okay he went over the horse carefully and smiled. "He's stunning, built very well for a horse this big, good sturdy frame. Big bone, tough. He looks like a champion."
"He is." Sunday lifted his head and snorted eyeballing the journalist he tossed his head a few times. "Now none of that, behave yourself." There was a soft pat on the horse's nose and he shaped up some.
"Everyone says he's so vile and evil, but he demands respect doesn't he?"
"Oh yes, he knows he's special. You just have to focus that energy, he'll stumble a lot in his career, but I think he'll be the better horse for it. There's a fire in him that is precious, special, strong. Takenshi is a wonderful racehorse, and I'm sure he'll win more than this boy, but he doesn't have the fire this one does. Sunday isn't a warrior, he is passion. It ebbs and flows, but as long as you stoke that fire you'll never lose it." Momori smiled and rubbed the horse's cheek. "What's your name? I've seen you here every morning watching him, I'm pretty sure you're his only fan."
"Oh, it's Waylon." The American journalist smiled brightly, "Waylon Givens. I do a little writing on bloodlines and ones to watch out for, and someone sent me to cover Takenshi but...this boy captured my attention."
"As he should, you're a horseman?"
"Oh yes, my father owns a broodmare facility in Kentucky. We breed horses like this one, but don't race."
"Shame, you have a good eye. Maybe one day you'll consider taking up the reins instead of the pen." With another smile he dismissed the rider and let him go take Sunday to cool down. "Come by the barn before his next gallop out, I'll show you his routine. Takenshi's too, all access pass to both horses.
Waylon was thrilled! He'd come here for one piece but he was so caught up in all of the excitement that he planned on doing a series about the bloodlines behind these two colts and how it all came together to produce these two exceptional contenders.
Over the next several days the American spent a lot of time in Momori's stables, learning the routine, asking questions, and adding to his horse knowledge. Momori had taken a liking to him and on race day he asked Waylon if he'd ever been interested in training horses to race.
"Of course, I love it, finding out how they think. Its one of my dreams for a farm of my own one day, to work the horses and get them ready for races like this. Build them up from the inside out." Momori smiled, the answer was what he had hoped for and then some.
"Well, if you ever want to apprentice you have a position on my staff." With that he patted the man on the shoulder and pointed towards the owners boxes for both horses, "You should sit there today, you'll get the best story in the house up there." And so he did, eager to see the story unfold from the owners box he joined them and would spend the rest of the race soaking up their reactions.
As for Momori he spent the beginning of the race getting both of his runners prepared, even with the assault of reporters asking him to choose between the two colts he just waved them off. "Choosing between them, picking a favorite, is like trying to catch the wind. Why can't they both just be darn good horses?"
Outside of that he didn't give them much else waving them off when it was time to saddle up in the paddock. As usual he saddled Takenshi first, spending time making sure everything was in the right place before doing the same with Nichi who was mighty nippy this morning. Biting at his shoulder the big colt made a rough sound and tugged nearly pulling the man off his feet. "Stop that." The tone was calm and level and it made Nichi release his shirt with a knowing look, Momori always thought the horse was too intelligent for his own good.
Off to the post the horses went and away to the rail went Momori, he couldn't watch from the box like the owners did, he had to be as close to his horses as he could. Everyone loaded up nicely and then things changed. The gate opened and Nichi fell hard to a knee before pushing up and chasing after the pack, it had set him a good 10 lengths behind and he seemed to be stiffly moving against the rail.
Takenshi took the early lead, widening it as they continued on. He made the running look effortless, and he just kept pulling away. But slugging it out, twenty five lengths behind him was Nichi. The locomotive that was the black colt was starting to kick in and he began covering ground quickly, passing horses as they came around the last turn. In the turn he passed the bulk of the pack going wide on the outside, and then the whip cracked into his hip and he thundered forward with a renewed sense of vigor.
As they pulled into the stretch he was half a length behind Takenshi and closing fast, the crowd whooped in excitement and it only drove Nichi on. With another few cracks of the whip he drove forward, passing the tiring Takenshi who struggled to keep up the speed challenge from Nichi. Finally the wire drew near and the black colt had once again the avenging demon had clipped the wings of the golden warrior.
Featuring:
Other Story Images:
Wobbly Knees
A Rivalry Begins
Stealing the Glory
Demon's Day
Clipping Wings
Blood Sweat and Tears
Falling Angel
Image size
1772x1200px 701.62 KB
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