Beholder Curlin

An Age Old Maxim

As the old adage goes, you breed the best to the best and hope for the best. Though the thoroughbred world has chanted it for generations, that maxim could have been written specifically for one moment this winter, when an immortal chestnut stallion met a timeless bay mare.

What happens when sure hooves that skipped over the mud, away from the best in his class, on a rainy autumn afternoon cross paths with ones that breezed an easy ten furlongs on a sun-baked summer day, leaving the best horses in California laboring in vain to keep up?

What happens when a heart forged on the racetrack, tempered and perfected in the fires of experience, of age, of daunting demands that may have extinguished lesser spirits, meets one with such potent will to win that on a day when she had no choice but to pass the sceptre of the distaff division, she fought her heir-apparent all the way to the end, tasted victory one last time, and only then let go?

What happens when Eclipse gleams eight times under a single barn roof, each one of his bronze forms catching beams of white light bouncing off the impeccable silver sheen of the Woodlawn Vase? What happens when four blankets of deep purple and canary yellow adorn the walls?

What happens when two eternal legacies of speed, tenacity, and honor entwine?

We will find out next spring when we meet Beholder‘s foal by Curlin.


Curlin. Photo by Eclipse Sportswire



Article written by Nicolle Neulist

Featured contributor

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