The best things always come in threes. For anyone who loves horse racing, choosing the top three legends of all-time is a task made much easier when the horses themselves step into the spotlight and line up right before your eyes. Man O’ War, Citation, and Secretariat did not live in the same time periods, or ever grace a track together.
They came one after the other like a holy trinity that changed the sport of horse racing forever and inspired thousands, if not millions, of new fans. They set track records during their racing careers that remained untouched for years, even decades. They displayed speed, power, and endurance, unlike any other horses in their class. The horses embodied the underdog spirit of rising above any challenges that came their way. They were forces of nature.
Their stories are the reason why every major list of top racehorses, from the Bloodhorse Magazine Top 100 of the 20th Century to those compiled by ESPN and various sports and racing publications, always feature the same three names. Albeit sometimes in a different order.
Man O’ War, Secretariat, Citation.
Secretariat. Man O’ War. Citation.
Man O’ War, Citation, Secretariat.
Hundreds of horses raced before and after them. Some obtained the status of “great”. A few have touched on “extraordinary”. Even fewer have been ranked as “legendary”. The sweet, rarified air breathed in by the mighty lungs of these three horses is air few will ever have the pleasure of experiencing.
As a girl, I listened to my father. He was a scientist who loved horse racing, talk about the “great ones.” He named off horses like Eclipse, Exterminator, War Admiral, Count Fleet, Whirlaway, War Admiral, Stymie, Swaps, Gallant Fox, Sir Barton, and others. His reverence was most noticeable for two horses in particular. Citation was a huge favorite. The one he considered the best that ever lived, Man O’ War, filled the top slot. In 1973, he added Secretariat to that list, and over the years, a host of others. But if you asked him to name his top three, he would say, “Man O’ War, Citation, and Secretariat”. In that order!
My own obsession with horses began as a child. I wanted so badly to be a jockey. I read every book at the local library on horses and eventually became enamored, just like my father, with the racing greats. Among those, Man O’ War was my favorite. He was big and powerful, muscled, and strong. He exuded greatness and his eyes expressed a fierce passion to run, and win.
Man O’ War became my childhood hero, my idol. Oh, I loved a handful of pop stars like every other growing girl. However, my real heroes had four legs instead of two and sometimes it made me feel like an oddball. None of my friends wanted to talk about why Man O’ War was the best that ever lived, or how Whirlaway got his funny name, or why Stymie was considered a throw-away horse until he showed his true talent.
The closest I could get back then to becoming a jockey was to ride old, but sweet Morgan horses at a local New York stable. Later I went on to ride hunter/jumper at a posh stable in New Jersey I was pretty sure my parents could barely afford. They seated me on spirited, hot-blooded Thoroughbreds. I was terrified as I held on for dear life over those three-foot “baby” fences.
In my teens, I moved from New York to San Diego and kept riding for a few years. Until I discovered boys, went to college and got a job. I had been writing since childhood and already knew my career would be as a writer. Riding horses became a thing of the past, and as for becoming a jockey? Well, let’s just say I outgrew that desire physically, having little athletic skill, even if I never did emotionally.
Instead, I continued to read about the older legends and greats. I watched the newer legends-in-the-making when they took to the tracks, including Secretariat’s run for the Triple Crown in 1973. I sat in front of the television during the Belmont Stakes with my dad as the big red superhorse moved like a “tremendous machine”. He blasted through the finish line, leaving his poor rival, Sham, so far behind. I cried, and I’m pretty sure my dad cried, too. It was unforgettable.
We went to the Del Mar racetrack with my family throughout the 1980s and 1990s. I wrote a front-page feature story for the San Diego Union-Tribune about my love of going to the races with my father. When my parents divorced in the 1990s, I was living in Los Angeles, and my dad moved to Las Vegas. I stopped going to the track so much, and later had my son, Max.
He kept me incredibly busy. I never stopped watching the races on television, reading about Man O’ War and other horses on the Internet or in books. Dreaming of the day when I might own my own legend-in-the-making. At that time, owning a racehorse meant spending an exorbitant amount of money. I believed it was an out-of-reach dream. Perhaps one I could fulfill if I one day won the lottery or sold a novel or script for a million dollars.
In 2010, I took my son, Max, and my mom, Milly, to see Zenyatta. She extended her legendary winning streak to 18 races in the Clement L. Hirsch Handicap at Del Mar Racetrack. There was a sell-out crowd of over 60,000 people. The three-hour wait to get out of the parking lot when the race ended was worse than any I’d ever experienced at a rock concert. I screamed so loud for Zenyatta. I lost my voice for two weeks and got yelled at by my doctor. My son and mom screamed too. They were caught up in the spirit of the occasion, the glory, the majesty, and the unequaled excitement that is horse racing, especially when in the presence of greatness.
Today, I’m a successful writer, but my second passion is always right there, nose to nose at the finish line, demanding to one day win the race. I even found a way to own a few racehorses as part of the growing number of partnerships and syndicates that let people experience the thrills of ownership at affordable prices. I have shares in three fillies and two colts and got to experience the first personal victory of my life when one of my “girls” won at a race at Del Mar.
When people ask me who I look up to, I may name a few humans, mainly writers and world leaders I admire. Always at the top of my list are the names of three idols who came from humble beginnings, fought through challenges and obstacles, rose and fell and rose again, and went down in history as heroes, as legends…as gods. Oh, and they all had four legs.
Man O’ War. Citation. Secretariat.
