Passing Wide

Got this done in the nick of time XD Really proud of the grass the the sunny feeling of this. It's really hard for me to do sunny scenes XD Sad that Mustard Blue isn't going to be a turf horse, though maybe I'll get a mare for him in the future who's a turf gal?

Race: HA-RD Monthly Races 
Featuring: Ghost Horse (Ransom's Alejandro (F))

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Story

Hera Stevenson had been in the racing industry before. 

She had never seen a change like this.

Weeks after his first race, her grand trainer (she had silently threatened to fire him on many occasions already), suggested that blinkers may make the bored colt pay attention during his races. Along with the equipment change, the trainer signed him up for a turf allowance race in Belmont. Already pissed off about too many changes happening at once, Hera had yelled at him numerous time over the phone about signing her colt up for a race without her consent. 

Long story short, they ended up at the turf race anyway. Alone this time, the single mother watched Blue in the paddock. Unlike the excitable black two year old frontrunner from Ransom Stud, Blue was walking along calmly just as he had before. His ears were also laid back and he was dragging his feet. 

He's so lazy! Hera shouted at herself. Out of all the hot thoroughbreds around, she managed to get the one with barely enough energy to keep up with his handler. 

"I bet he makes a terrific turf horse," Blue's trainer said with his head held high and a gnarly grin on his face. Hera glared at him. 

Something caught her eye behind the meaty trainer. She relaxed completely. 

Stepping forward, she asked, "James?" 

The tall, walking toothpick of a man stepped out of his gaggle of 'people.' 

"Hera? What are you doing here?" he asked, moving close enough to her to have a quick conversation.

"I've got a horse!" she beamed with a playful look. "The number one." 

"The one, eh?" he asked, an equally mischievous grin on his face as he looked down at the card. "Two year olds are always surprising, but don't you think you should have tried a dirt race with just the blinkers first? He might fail more than he succeeds at this rate." Hera shrugged.

"Horrible, allowance-class trainer. What'ya gonna do?" she said. He chuckled.

"Good luck," he said. She nodded.

"You too."  

Racetime came and while all the jumpy two year olds raised their legs and thrashed about, only a few stood still, and only one had his head lowered and his ears back.

And that was Mustard Blue. 

The gates flew open and no one was surprised when the dark liver chestnut bounced right to the back of the pack, letting his long stride take him at a very slow pace.

I'm firing him, Hera decided as her huge investment just lumbered along with the pack of horses as if he wasn't even trying. The blinkers had not worried him at all. The turf? Easier to grip which meant having to try a whole lot less. I don't care if he misses the rest of the season and most of next season - I'm firing that idiot trainer and finding a new one tomorrow. 

Blue's Jockey, about the only thing about the set up that had stayed the same, raised his whip. It took three waves for Blue to finally moved, and instead of taking the hole that his jockey had so ampty provided for him, the big brown horse just went way wide through the last turn and increased his speed. Ears back. Stride lengthening. Muscles barely tensed. 

It was like he was cantering. 

And then, midway through the track, Blue aimed at the frontrunning Ransom Stud colt. 

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Reference: Racehorse Stock 116