“Hope whispers, “Try it one more time.” Anonymous On a gorgeous late summer afternoon in Northampton, Massachusetts – September 10, 2004 – the trainer and his horse-for-life went through their early pre-race routine. Zippy was fed and watered, washed and dried. The track vet had been by earlier to check his legs, jogging him up and down the shed row to make sure he was sound. No swelling and no limping meant no late scratch necessary. Zippy was fit as a fiddle. Okay, an old fiddle, in that he wa...s being prepped for race number one hundred while the total number of races of the seven other horses was eighty-two. Felix gave him the game plan: break clean, keep pace with the pack, and sprint for the wire mid-stretch. The horse nodded in agreement, and when Felix turned to grab his harness, Zippy knocked the trainer’s hat off with his nose. “Zippy is healthy and happy,” said Felix. “He wants to run. We get a terrible ride Saturday, but with a shorter race and another jockey, I think Zippy can win his one hundredth race and then probably retire.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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