My birthday was this past weekend and I got a lovely little gift from my talented sister-in-law: Little Sir Barton. He will join me at my appearances in support of Sir Barton and the Making of the Triple Crown. I hope you can come by and see us at any of the events listed on the Appearances page.
Many thanks to the amazing Krystal for this lovely gift!
Earlier this month, I featured Dorothy Ours’s book Man o’ War: A Legend Like Lightning here on the Sir Barton Project. That book became one of my essential sources for writing Sir Barton & the Making of the Triple Crown and author Dorothy Ours herself became a valuable and welcome friend to the project as well, providing answers to a plethora of questions over the last few years. Today, I wanted to lead off my series profiling authors of these wonderful books on racing with a few questions for Dorothy. Here are her Author Answers!
(This blog post is the fourth and last in a series of four, profiling the first horse to traverse what we now know as the Triple Crown trail. In 1918, War Cloud started in the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness Stakes, and the Belmont Stakes for the first time, inspiring Sir Barton’s run in all three the following year. Read part one here, part two here, and part three here.)
After the muck of Churchill Downs and the crowded field of Pimlico, owner A.K. Macomber and trainer Walter Jennings sent War Cloud northward, to New York City and the ivy-covered walls of Belmont Park. The spring meet started on May 27th, and Macomber moved his stable into Gotham for the triumvirate of Jamaica, Belmont, and Aqueduct meets. For his three-year-olds, the next target became the Withers Stakes on June 1st. War Cloud, on seventeen days of rest, went to the post for the one-mile stake with his stablemate, Motor Cop.
He had started the journey as the favorite in the Kentucky Derby on May 11th and then second choice at Pimlico, but, in the Withers, he failed to run to his status as one of the best of his age. War Cloud, again with Johnny Loftus in the saddle, parlayed his poor start into an even poorer performance, finishing in seventh. Just ahead of him was Willis Sharpe Kilmer’s Sun Briar, Exterminator’s stablemate and the colt that Kilmer had assumed would be his Derby horse until he wasn’t. Their poor showing meant that the three-year-old division was now wide open, with Motor Cop, Escoba (second in the Derby), and others toward the top of the list. Only a win in race like the Belmont Stakes could send War Cloud back to the front of the line.
When I was in 11th grade, we were required to write a formal research paper, replete with note cards, documentation style (MLA), thesis, and more. Fortunately, our teacher allowed us to pick the subject of this long-form assignment — within reason, of course. Before she had finished giving us the requirements for the paper, I already knew what I wanted to write about: the Triple Crown. The perfect subject for this racing nerd who lived in a virtual racing desert.
By this point, almost twenty years had elapsed since Affirmed, with a number of unsuccessful bids in those intervening years. I watched Sunday Silence duel for the Preakness with Easy Goer only to come up short in the Belmont. I felt the keen, gutting disappointment of watching the Derby-Preakness winner passed on the turn, in the stretch, at the wire. The distress of Charismatic’s injury. California Chrome’s mishap at the start. Each year, I hoped against hope, and, as I grew older, as I saw more of those who came so close, I began to wonder if I would be lucky enough to ever see a Triple Crown.
And then he came sweeping into our lives, the Pharoah, the ruler of the American classics. American Pharoah drew us in and never let us go, keeping us entranced by his sweet demeanor and his effortless stride. Like Secretariat, like the Affirmed-Alydar rivalry, he mesmerized us, keeping us all enthralled well past the wire.
As I finish up this book on America’s first Triple Crown winner, I grow more and more grateful for the chance to have seen American Pharaoh’s domination of the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness, and the Belmont. I cry each time I watch that stretch run, as Frosted looked like he might spoil it all and then the marvelous acceleration as American Pharoah showed us what the pinnacle of thoroughbred racing looks like, a legend in flight with each strike of his hooves on the humble earth.
Happy Birthday once again, AP. Happy birthday to the horse that hit the highest of highs and took us all with him. Once again, we celebrate you, “the horse of a lifetime.”
That’s right! My first book, tentatively titled First: Sir Barton and the Birth of the American Triple Crown (also known as The Sir Barton Project), now has a home with The University Press of Kentucky. You will be able to find the book at your local bookstore and online in Spring 2019. In the meantime, I will be sharing more moments from Sir Barton’s career here as well as more details about the book itself as we get closer to the publication date.
You can also find me here at my author page on Facebook and on Twitter. I look forward to bringing you Sir Barton’s story in full in 2019.
Journeys start with a step. Sometimes, you don’t realize you’re on them until a moment lights up your life, illuminating the scene so you finally can see it all clearly. I didn’t know I was on this journey until I got an email that showed me this path. That was four years ago today. Happy Birthday to The Sir Barton Project!
My name is Jennifer Kelly, the author of this blog and First: Sir Barton and the Birth of the American Triple Crown (tentative title). I hope to bring you big news about what’s next for Sir Barton in the coming days. For now, I am glad for unexpected journeys and for the many moments of clarity that have brought you and me here today.
On June 6, 2015, I sat in my living room, watching the broadcast for the 147th Belmont Stakes. My sister was over, my kids were playing, and my husband had just left for his evening with friends. The last thing I said to be him before he left was “You’re going to miss the race!”
Literally, ten minutes later, history had been made.
I awaited Saturday’s premier running of the Pegasus World Cup Invitational with the same jumpy nervousness and trepidation that I feel each time I leave the kids with the babysitter. What was going to happen? Was everyone going to behave and do their thing or would disaster in some form ensue? I paced. I worked through the possible outcomes, steeling myself for the chance that my horse could lose. I promised myself that I wouldn’t jump up and down and scare my kids again like I did during the Breeder’s Cup Classic. Frankly, my bladder can’t take that much jumping anyway.
While I waited, I thought back to the post I published on Friday. Sure, the idea that the Arrogate v. California Chrome has parallels with Sir Barton v. Man O’War might seem tenuous, but I’ve been living with Sir Barton and his career for more than three years. I’ve been a thoroughbred racing fan for thirty years. Nothing in my time following this sport has been closer to what fans at Kenilworth Park witnessed on October 12, 1920 than we all saw at Gulfstream Park on January 28, 2017. The story of Arrogate v. Chrome played out much like the Kenilworth Gold cup did, with the older horse running at a disadvantage and the young speedster showing everyone yet again that he definitely deserves the title of Best Racehorse in the World.
This past Saturday evening, thoroughbred racing gathered together to honor the best of the best from the past year with the announcement of the 2016 Eclipse Awards. The National Thoroughbred Racing Association, the Daily Racing, and the National Turf Writers Association created the Eclipse Awards, named for British racer and sire Eclipse, in 1971 to honor elite horses and their human counterparts each year. California Chrome followed up his 2014 Horse of the Year win with another Horse of the Year honor for 2016, after his record of seven wins in eight starts. His only loss came behind the speedy wonder Arrogate in the Breeder’s Cup Classic.
California Chrome’s 2014 Horse of the Year honor follows his unsuccessful attempt at winning the Triple Crown, when he came in fourth in the Belmont after a shaky start which saw him stepped on at the start by Matterhorn. Of course, the next year saw American Pharoah dominate all of the awards with his 2015 Triple Crown victory, the first in 37 years. The 12th Triple Crown winner was the unanimous Horse of the Year, the unquestioned best horse of 2015. Ending the Triple Crown drought and then following that up with victories in the Haskell Invitational and the Breeder’s Cup Classic sealed the HOY deal for Pharaoh. Our first Triple Crown winner was not quite so fortunate.
Newspapers of the time give Sir Barton three-year-old champion honors, though none of these awards were officially recognized until 1936. Despite winning the Triple Crown (as we know it now) and a number of other victories, Sir Barton’s record of 13-8-3-2 was not quite as stellar as another three-year-old, Purchase, who had a record of 11-9-2-0 for 1919. Thus, for some, the Triple Crown winner’s supremacy wasn’t quite total. The doubt came from July’s Dwyer Stakes, where Purchase beat a sore Sir Barton, who was carrying nine more pounds and turned a shoe during the race. Despite winning four races in thirty-two days and setting a precedent that is racing’s central focus for the first half of each year, Sir Barton was not good enough for some in his own time to be unanimously the best of his class.
Years later, of course, Sir Barton was awarded both his Triple Crown trophy and Horse of the Year honors. He was inducted into the National Museum of Racing and Hall of Fame in its initial class in 1957 and then into the Canadian Horse Racing Hall of Fame in 1976. It speaks to the difference between Sir Barton’s time and ours that America’s first Triple Crown winner didn’t quite dominate the minds of racing back then as he might have today.
When American Pharoah crossed the finish line at Belmont Park on June 6, 2015, the new King of the Track, the 12th Triple Crown winner, it was a given that breeders would be seeking the chance to catch their own bit of history by pairing their mares with the horse that broke the thirty-seven-year drought. Sure enough, in early 2016, American Pharoah covered a number of mares and, this week, the first of his foals made his appearance.
This little guy, as yet unnamed, is but a harbinger of the potential to come, the promise of another American Pharoah that, given the right time and connections, may bring us more of the excitement his sire showered us with.
For Sir Barton, his time at stud was more average than anything else; he produced a decent number of stakes winners, but none duplicated his success. Easter Stockings won the 1928 Kentucky Oaks, among her many career wins, and stands as probably his most successful progeny. Sure, he had others, but, compared to the pedigree legacies of his rival Man O’War, his stud career was deemed a failure. Though he may not have a produced another Triple Crown winner, he was a good enough sire that the word ‘failure’ belies the truth of his time. His final years were spent with the Remount Service, where he served his country by siring more horses for the military.
I look forward to the successes of this new little guy and all of American Pharoah’s foals to come. I hope they bring us as much joy as their sire did for his shining year on the Triple Crown trail.
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