May, Y18
Working Crunch on the little track next to the highway at a friend's property was small stuff, today would be his first work on a real track, The Wire to be exact. With the stands on one side and the stables down the backstretch, not to mention an actual rail and schooling in real starting gates, it would be a whole new experience for the little black colt. With head high, eyes alert and tulip shaped ears flicking every which way, he gave his aging trainer a broad smile as he spoke gently to him and led him to the stretch alongside Greasy Creek's exercise pony, Banjo,
"Let him jog to the three-eighths pole and turn him loose." Frank instructed Sam and released the colt's reins, sending the duo on their way and returned to the rail to wait with the other clockers, stopwatch in hand as the colt became a speck in the distant fog of the early spring morning. Elston thought highly of his stallion, Cactus Jack, and once employed again, Wiseman had made it his life's mission to make the stud more successful in the breeding barn than he had been on the track. At least get the horse some winning offspring to satiate his owner.

Sam held the reins tight, feeling the pull from the eager colt as he tugged his way down the back, breathing well and collecting his stride. A fast horse was of course very important in this business but Sam had exercised many incredibly quick animals that did not know how to breathe properly in order to sustain that freakish speed. This colt, knew what he was doing, thankfully. Just before the turn she asked him to switch leads and pulled a loop free from her reins allowing Grinder to extend himself. He checked his stride and flicked an ear back to her, unsure if she was really asking him to run until she reassured him with a kiss. Both ears pinned back and he made himself low, skimming along the rail and tearing into the turn, leaving hunks of dirt sailing out behind.

Frank clicked his watch and kept his eyes glued on the diminutive two year old as he thundered into the stretch, he had good form, legs were all going in the right direction thankfully, just wish he had a longer stride but shorter canons didn't really allow for that. He was still going strong as he zipped under the wire and Frank clocked him while watching him gallop out through his binoculars. Just under two minutes for the full mile, and :36 and 2 for the breeze. When Sam returned with him it seemed the colt had merely gone for a stroll as Frank patted his neck and told her to go cool him down,
"I think he's ready for a race."

CACTUS CRUNCH

June, Y18
Maybe this was how Cactus Grinder would have been on the track, a bit of a let down. There was no denying Crunch looked like a sure winner, he had been bet fairly well in his first start only to struggle home a disheartened fourth. Not winning his first start was one thing, failing to even hit the board was something else entirely. The next day found him a bit sore and probably just in need of more conditioning. Frank decided to back him down a furlong, maybe nine was just too far for the poor kid and entered him into a race at a new facility where he seemed to take to the track like a champ. Sure enough he was finally in the lead coming down the stretch, only to be overtaken in the final sixteenth of a mile to finish second, but he was much more stoic in this loss than the last. The decision was made to back him up even further to just six furlongs, perhaps we had a sprinter on our hands, and given his improvement over the surface at The Wire, he was entered in a promising looking six furlong maiden at the same track three weeks after his previous start. Hopefully, third time's the charm.

The little black colt with the big heart departed his exercise partner entering the back stretch and extended to a full gallop under the guidance of his rider. Sam piloted him into the far turn and asked him for just a bit more, he responded beautifully and as Frank watched on with that characteristic "Eastwood squint" he only hoped Crunch could turn in a similar performance next week when it really counted. A black flash under the wire and he stopped his watch at 1:08 and 3.

CACTUS CRUNCH

September Y18
The barn’s youngest colt had been relegated to a back burner as of late it seemed, like a side project as the older horses went on to greatness. The only other horse not receiving the same amount of attention was the young filly that had struggled so badly in her last start and since been turned out to pasture. The black colt’s last four starts had come at the prestigious Wire as many of Greasy Creek’s racers seemed to do quite well here. It was of course the go to track to get him back on his feet after undergoing surgery when his exercise rider reported that tell-tale roaring when they were coming off a turn one morning. But the Cactus Grinder colt was getting some much deserved recognition at long last. In the last week of September, Crunch had finally broken his frustrating case of seconditis and crossed under the wire in front for the first time in his burgeoning career while more than doubling his lifetime earnings. There was only hope he could repeat the effort in seasons to come, do his line some good. There was just the question of what to do now.

It was a chilly morning, clear and crisp as autumn had finally shown its face in the past few weeks. Though leaves hadn’t begun changing, the black colt being led to the track this morning was hopefully turning over a new leaf and would soon make his barn and lineage proud. Or, he was just a fluke, only time would truly tell. He was just jogging today, hoping actually winning a race hadn’t taken anything out of him and as the golden rays of the morning sun warmed his coat, highlighting the clouds of vapor billowing from flared nostrils, Cactus Crunch galloped round the track at The Wire under the eye of his hopeful trainer.

CACTUS CRUNCH