Best 22 quotes in «horse racing quotes» category

Perhaps if I had said to myself, at any moment in the race, I am being competitive. I want to win and I care, I might’ve begun to find the whole competition boring. My competitiveness was like a kite I was refusing to pull down from the sky and examine. I think this increased its power over me. I rode with a mysterious compulsion, not knowing where it came from.

Peace is found with honesty among wicked men.

The weather was clear, the track fast War Admiral broke first and finished last.

Secretariat has just tied the world record for nine furlongs. He is running now as if in contempt of the clock. Those watching him begin to comprehend the magnitude of the effort. He is moving beyond the standard by which the running horse has been traditionally judged, not tiring, not leg weary, not backing up a stroke, dimensionless in scope, and all the time Turcotte asking nothing of him.

... the little horse had drawn more newspaper coverage in 1938 than Roosevelt, who was second, Hitler (third), Mussolini (fourth), or any other newsmaker. His match with War Admiral was almost certainly the single biggest news story of the year and one of the biggest sports moments of the century.

Sacrifice your fear on the altar of your dreams.

There are great people in life who give you inspiration to keep going and get through the hard times. I have been blessed to have such role models in my life. It would be a privilege if achieving my dream could inspire the next generation.

The whole country is divided into two camps," wrote Dave Boone in the San Francisco Chronicle. "People who never saw a horse race in their lives are taking sides. If the issue were deferred another week, there would be a civil war between the War Admiral Americans and the Seabiscuit Americans.

To pilot a racehorse is to ride a half-ton catapult. It is without question one of the most formidable feats in sport.

Vacations in my family are rare events squeezed between races. I can count them on one hand, and even those amount to only a few hours each. Shopping in Los Angeles. Sinking my toes into snow white sand in Florida. They are tiny slips of memory strung around horses.

You've the beat of a dancer to a measure or harmonious rush of a porpoise at the prow where the racers all win easily— like centaurs' legs in tune, as when kettledrums compete; nose rigid and suede nostrils spread, a light left hand on the rein, till well—this is a rhapsody.

When the striped pole slips by I slide low in the saddle and give Kali room to go. One moment she's bottled up, and the next she's a stream of copper, her chestnut mane smacking me hard in the face while her strides lengthen and everything becomes a droning rumble of hooves and wind.

Horse racing is waning in popularity.

If I am asked to give advice to those who are inclined to spend their time and their money on the Turf I should give them the advice 'Punch' gave to those about to marry – don’t.” --5th Earl of Roseberry The Fast Set: The World of Edwardian Racing by George Plumptre, 1985.

[Charles] Hatton had no way of knowing it then as he sat on the bench, but there was a young racehorse turning the corner of the racetrack--perhaps 150 yards away--who would fulfill some ideal that he had been turning over in his head since Billy Walker put it there more than fifty years ago. Secretariat walked down the pathway toward the paddock, toward the towering canopy of trees above the saddling area, toward Hatton, who saw the colt and came to his feet. The red horse filled Hatton's eyes of an instant, not striding into his field of vision but swimming into it, pulling Hatton from the bench to a standstill before him. Hatton had seen thousands of horses in his life, thousands of two-year-olds, and suddenly on this July afternoon of 1972 he found the 106-carat diamond: "It was like seeing a bunch of gravel and there was the Kohinoor lying in there. It was so unexpected. I thought, 'Jesus Christ, I never saw a horse that looked like that before.

A horseman of the old school, a gentleman who never forgot to dip down and stake you when he win. He was more ashamed to be stingy than to be broke, so as long as he had two dollars you had one . . .

If I've learned anything over the years, it's that horses do listen to you. They may not have a clue what you're saying, but they know the tone in which you say it. I'll sing to horses so hooked on their own nerves they're ready to climb into the sky, and sometimes it's one of the only things that keep them on the ground.

Nothing is permanent, I tell myself over and over. Especially not a horse.

I often hear skeptics say that, if psychic behavior was real, the psychics would be playing the stock markets or the ponies. In my experience, many of them do. There is, in fact, a kind of secret level of activity in which psychics consult to major corporations and businesses. People seem embarrassed to admit this activity but it takes place, just as you'd expect it to.

I'm bouncing up and down next to Beck, and his arm is around my waist because it's second nature to reach out and grab something during a race. To grab it and hold on, or shake it, or just feel that it's there and you can steady yourself against it to bring yourself back to earth when the race is done.

In that hothouse atmosphere, criminal records bloomed like orchids all around us.

No matter what, my chest always tightens up before a race. A rush of adrenaline spikes all the way down my spine, and it's like I'm right there. Right on top of Kali, squeezed in that metal stall, looking out at the dirt with my heart in my throat. The starter opens the gates, and the bell rings.