Secretariat

Secretariat (USA) 1970 Chestnut Colt   Bold Ruler (USA) x Somethingroyal (USA), by Princequillo (Ire)

If ever there was a horse who had it all, it was a chestnut rocket named Secretariat. Good looks? He had them, in spades, with a rich copper coat and flashy white markings draped over nearly ideal conformation. Royal antecedents? He was by the 1957 Horse of the Year and eventual eight-time leading American sire Bold Ruler out of Somethingroyal, already the dam of three good stakes winners including the first-class but unsound Sir Gaylord. Charisma? The fabled “look of eagles” flashed from his regal eyes.

And, of course, he had a bit of talent.

Bred at Christopher Chenery’s Meadow Stud near Doswell, Virginia, Secretariat was foaled on March 30, 1970. From babyhood on, he was recognized as an exceptional prospect; as farm secretary Elizabeth Ham jotted down after looking over the year’s foals on July 28, 1970, “You have to like him.” Others agreed wholeheartedly; indeed, the only question Chenery’s daughter Penny Tweedy had after seeing Somethingroyal’s colt for the first time was whether he might be too good looking to be any good as a racehorse.

Secretariat was named by Elizabeth Ham, through the name was not her first choice. “Scepter” was at the top of the list but was already taken, as were Royal Line, Something Special, Games of Chance, and Deo Volente. Perhaps the big fellow should have been named “Perfection” instead, for along with his impressive physique, he showed an excellent temperament, assertive but not over-aggressive, and quick intelligence. His only fault was a tendency to acquire a bit too much baby fat; like many another good racehorse before and since, he had a voracious appetite.

As a two-year-old, Secretariat took some time in coming to hand. Not only was he just a trifle chubby by the time he got into serious training, but he was a bit mentally immature in spite of his being a willing and capable learner. It took until June before the big colt began flashing hints of the speed that would later become his trademark, and trainer Lucien Laurin decided that blinkers were necessary to keep Secretariat focused. The blinkers seemed to help the colt’s concentration and his training times improved. Laurin finally entered the youngster in a five and one-half furlong maiden special weight at Aqueduct on July 4,1972. The colt would be ridden by Paul Feliciano, who had often ridden him at exercise.

The race was nearly a disaster, Secretariat got slammed hard about three strides after coming out of the gate, nearly going to his knees. Blocked as he sought racing room on the outside, Secretariat swung to the inside and was gaining fast when he was once again blocked off. By that time, any ordinary colt could have been forgiven for calling it quits, but Secretariat surged forward once more when he could find room and finished a willing fourth, beaten only a length and a quarter behind winner Herbull. The Daily Racing Form chart’s performance line read “Impeded, rallied.”

The big colt wheeled back eleven days later in another maiden special weight. This time there were no problems, although Secretariat apparently remembered the rough treatment he had gotten at the start of his first race. He broke alertly but immediately dropped back behind the other runners. Feliciano, rather than pressuring the colt to catch up with his field, let him find his own best stride, which the colt did in the backstretch. By the stretch call, Secretariat had assumed the lead, and he kept widening on his field until he hit the wire six lengths in front. The time for the six furlongs was a brisk 1:10-3/5, and Secretariat was not all out at the finish, winning “handily” according to the chart.

Secretariat’s third start marked the beginning of his partnership with Ron Turcotte, who would be his regular pilot for the remainder of his career. This race, run on July 31, was a Saratoga allowance for non-winners of two other than maiden or claiming. As in the previous maiden race, Secretariat dropped well out of the early going and was unhurried as he settled into stride; he then looped his field in a businesslike manner and won by a lengthening length and a half.

August 16 marked Secretariat’s stakes debut, this in the Sanford Stakes. He was the second choice behind Linda’s Chief, the winner of five straight races, and pundits thought they might see a real horse race between the two colts. Not so. Although Secretariat had to split horses to get to the front, he did so willingly and blasted away to win by three lengths in a brisk 1:10 flat for the six furlongs. Linda’s Chief did run second, but at no time during the race had he ever looked capable of making Secretariat really work for the victory.

The Hopeful Stakes on August 26 drew eight other horses, but after Secretariat made a dramatic outside move on the far turn, it was patently obvious that every other juvenile in the country would be running for second money whenever and wherever the big red express was entered. The colt won by five widening lengths from Flight to Glory and missed the track record for six and one-half furlongs by only three-fifths of a second. He next won the Futurity Stakes over the same distance at Belmont but was not as impressive, probably because he had used up too much gas in scorching through a five-furlong workout in :58 flat earlier that week.

Next came the Champagne Stakes, a race that illustrates why they run horse races instead of simply handing the winner’s purse to an overwhelming favorite. After dropping nearly thirteen lengths off the early lead, Secretariat got in gear, took the lead by the stretch call, and led Stop the Music home by two lengths. The only hitch was that he had bumped Stop the Music at about the three-sixteenths mark, and after due deliberation, the stewards disqualified Secretariat, making Stop the Music the official winner.

The fans were not happy with the stewards’ decision, but most viewers of the race films went away convinced that the stewards had made the call they were required to make by the rules of racing; Stop the Music had unquestionably been interfered with. They also went away equally convinced that Stop the Music probably would not have won had he gotten a clear run. The race may have gone down on Secretariat’s record as a loss, but it served to solidify his reputation that much further.

The track for the October 28 Laurel Futurity came up sloppy, but anyone hoping that the conditions would expose a chink in Secretariat’s armor went away disappointed. In his easiest win yet, Secretariat made his usual explosive move coming off the far turn to win by eight lengths over Stop the Music. Despite the off footing, the Meadow Stable colt ran the distance in 1:42-4/5, just a fifth of a second off the Laurel track record. Secretariat finished out his juvenile season by winning the season’s richest race, the Garden State Stakes, by three and a half lengths over Angle Light, also trained by Lucien Laurin.

With an official record of seven wins from nine starts, Secretariat was a no-brainer as the best American juvenile of 1972. But he received even greater honors thanks to lack of a truly clear-cut leader in either the older male or three-year-old male divisions: he was voted Horse of the Year, making him only the third juvenile to win overall honors since official voting began in 1936 and the first to win the title outright. (Native Dancer shared his 1952 Horse of the Year title with three-year-old champion One Count, while the brilliant filly Moccasin was co-champion with champion older male Roman Brother.)

By this point, comparisons with Man o’ War were doubtless inevitable, especially after Secretariat’s fans started calling him “Big Red” – the same nickname that Man o’ War had borne. The parallels were obvious. Both were big chestnuts, standing head and shoulders above their contemporaries in physical development as well as racing talent. Both had tremendous charisma. And both were without a doubt much the best of their generations. Even today, the debate still continues as to which was the better, though the question can have no true answer. They were both among the very greatest of the great.

Secretariat cared nothing about public accolades as he headed for Hialeah for a short break, however. He was happy and healthy in every regard except for a small splint that had developed on his right foreleg. The splint was pin-fired (a procedure which involved burning a number of small holes in the skin with a hot iron; the theory behind the practice was that the resulting irritation would bring more blood circulation to the area, speeding healing) and Secretariat resumed galloping in December.

The next event that would have a major impact on Secretariat’s life took place away from the track. Christopher Chenery died after a long illness on January 3, 1973. Although he left substantial business interests as well as the Meadow Stud and Meadow Stable, estate taxes promised to be very heavy. The question that faced his three children, particularly Penny Tweedy, was how Chenery’s beloved farm and at least the nucleus of the broodmare band could be preserved.

Humphrey and John Finney of the famous Fasig-Tipton auction firm were called in to set values on the farm’s horses and to advise which might be the best to retain and which would be better sold. To no one’s surprise, the farm’s most valuable individual assets were Secretariat and his stablemate, the 1972 Derby and Belmont winner Riva Ridge. The Finneys believed Secretariat to be worth five to seven million; Riva Ridge was initially valued at $2.5 million, but with the caveat that his value could rise as high as $4.5 million with a good four-year-old season. Secretariat, too, could rise in value to as much as ten million if he won the Triple Crown, but the Finneys cautioned that his value could drop to as low as two million if he failed in that mission and recommended that Secretatiat should be syndicated before racing at three.

It fell to twenty-three-year-old Seth Hancock, newly risen to the leadership of Claiborne Farm on the death of his father “Bull” Hancock, to arrange the syndication of Secretariat. The ownership of the horse was divided into thirty-two shares, of which four were retained by Meadow Stud. The remaining twenty-eight shares were offered at $190,000 each, yielding a total value of $6.08 million, a new record for a stallion or stallion prospect. To put Secretariat’s price into perspective, one must consider that the 1970 English Triple Crown winner, Nijinsky II, had been syndicated only two years earlier for $5.44 million and that Nijinsky II’s sire Northern Dancer, already a proven sire, had been syndicated for $2.7 million in 1970. In fact, the total value of Secretariat’s syndication put his price, ounce for ounce, higher than that of gold on the 1973 world market.

(As author Timothy Capps related in his 2003 biography of Secretariat, the horse actually could have commanded an even higher price. Captain A. D. D. “Tim” Rogers, an old friend of Christopher Chenery and the master of Airlie Stud in Ireland, authorized John Finney to offer $6.5 million for Secretariat on his behalf with the stipulation that Secretariat would stand in Ireland at the end of his racing days. Penny Tweedy, however, was determined to keep the horse in the United States if possible and decided to go ahead with the syndication, of which Captain Rogers became a shareholder.)

Secretariat’s syndication provided the immediate cash necessary to keep the Meadow Stud and Meadow Stable going. But as he went to the post for the Bay Shore Stakes (gr. III) at Aqueduct on March 17, the syndicate members must have held their breaths. Would he be the same colt at three that he had been at two or, like too many of the Bold Rulers, would he prove unable to carry his championship form forward from one year to the next?

The shareholders need not have worried. After blowing out three-eighths of a mile in :32-3/5 three days before the Bay Shore, Secretariat won the race itself by four and one-half lengths over Champagne Charlie, a useful son of Northern Dancer who was coming into the race off a win in the Swift Stakes (gr. III). A foul claim by James Moseley on third-place Impecunious provided a moment’s drama but was disallowed.

Next up was the one-mile Gotham Stakes on April 7. Secretariat had not trained for this race quite as sharply as for the Bay Shore, and though he disposed of Champagne Charlie by three lengths, Turcotte had to shake the big colt up with a couple of taps of the whip to get the job done. Although Secretariat equaled the Aqueduct track record of 1:33-2/5 for a mile, the performance roused some doubts among those convinced that the progeny of Bold Ruler could not stay a mile and a quarter.

Those doubts became even stronger after Secretariat’s next race, the nine-furlong Wood Memorial (gr. I). Secretariat had not worked very well between the Gotham and the Wood, in part because Laurin had backed off on him and in part because he was not training with his usual vigor, and the colt did not get a speed drill in during the week before the Wood because of a death in Laurin’s family. In the Wood itself, he was uncharacteristically dull and never really answered when Ron Turcotte called on him. He was beaten four and a half lengths by his stablemate Angle Light, who owed a head victory over the Santa Anita Derby (gr. I) winner Sham largely to the fact that Laffitte Pincay on Sham had waited too long to make his own move while watching for Secretariat. It was only after the race that it was disclosed that Secretariat had been suffering from an abscess on his lip, and even that explanation did not satisfy the naysayers, though modern medicine has since disclosed that untreated dental infections can have a substantial negative impact on overall health and well-being.

Nonetheless, with the abscess lanced and treated, Secretariat began training more aggressively again, blowing out five-eighths of a mile in :58-3/5 on the Wednesday before the Derby. The work was prophetic. In the Derby itself, Secretariat’s trademark move on the final turn was back in all its full power and splendor. Though Sham fought gamely to hold the lead he had taken from pacesetter Shecky Greene, Secretariat swept relentlessly by him en route to a two and one-half length victory in track record time of 1:59-2/5. Not only had the red colt set a new Derby record, but the manner in which he did it was astonishing: he had clicked off each quarter faster than the preceding one and had finished with a final quarter in :23 flat, the strongest Derby finish on record. Since then, only one other horse has won the Kentucky Derby with a time under two minutes; this was Monarchos, who won the 2001 Kentucky Derby in 1:59-4/5. (Sham also shaded two minutes for the mile and a quarter, but as the runner-up, his time was not official.)

Both Secretariat and Sham moved on to the Preakness, where fans hoped for a repeat of the thrilling Derby stretch drive. Both colts worked sharply coming up to the race, with Sham blowing out five-eighths of a mile in :58-2/5 and Secretariat spinning the same distance a full second faster. The big colt was gaining maturity rapidly, and it showed in the Preakness. Getting into gear much sooner than had been his wont, Secretariat roared up around the first turn and grabbed the lead before a half mile had been run. Sham chased him valiantly but could not cut into the leader’s margin of two and one-half lengths, which was maintained under a hand ride right down to the wire.

Unfortunately, a teletimer malfunction deprived Secretariat of another track record. Although the official responsible for hand timing Pimlico’s races in case of failure of the electronic system clocked the Preakness in 1:54-2/5, the Daily Racing Form reported the actual time as 1:53-2/5, which would have been both a stakes and track record.

Oblivious to the controversy, Secretariat tuned up for the Belmont with a one-mile workout in 1:34-4/5 on June 1. Five days later, he blew out a half mile in :46-3/5. But those performances were just appetizers to the main course he would deliver in the Belmont. On June 9, 1973, Secretariat laid the last lingering doubts as to his greatness aside by blowing the cover off the record book with a thirty-one length victory in the Belmont Stakes. Not only was his the greatest winning margin in the race’s history, erasing the record of twenty-five lengths set by Count Fleet in 1943, but he set a new world record of 2:24 for a mile and a half on dirt that still stands. And track announcer Chic Anderson’s call of “He is moving like a tremendous machine!” has engraved itself in American racing lore.

Midwestern fans got a chance to see the champion in action when Arlington Park arranged a four-horse race for $125,000 over nine furlongs. The other three horses were Our Native, My Gallant, and Blue Chip Dan, all stakes winners, but Secretariat made them look like a group of claimers, sailing home by nine lengths over My Gallant. He then returned to Saratoga, where he was pointed to the Whitney Stakes (gr. II).

Secretariat was in and out during his works before the Whitney, turning in seven furlongs in 1:25, a mile in 1:34 a few days later, and a half-mile in :48-1/5 for the colt’s final pre-race blowout. The mile work had been brilliant, faster than the official track record for a mile at Saratoga, but the half-mile pipe-opener was uncharacteristically slow for the kind of short, sharp work Secretariat normally turned in before a top effort.

Despite the signals – clear in hindsight – that something was not quite right, Secretariat went off a heavy favorite for the Whitney but was unable to catch the front-running Onion, whose one-length victory was greeted with stunned silence by the crowd. The next day, the big colt was running a temperature, the victim of a minor virus. He recovered after a few days, but to this day Ron Turcotte believes that Secretariat was the victim of poor judgment by his connections and should not have run at all. In the meantime, a planned start in the Travers Stakes (gr, I) had to be scrapped due to the colt’s condition.

Secretariat was still being pointed to the Marlboro Cup, an invitational race at Belmont designed to bring the best horses in training together for a showdown, but did not recover his best pre-Whitney form until just three days before the big race, when he zipped five furlongs in :57 and galloped out for six furlongs in 1:08-4/5. He needed all the sharpness he could muster, for the field was one of the best ever assembled in North America. Aside from his own stablemate, Riva Ridge, who had himself been training brilliantly, the field included Key to the Mint, 1972 American champion three-year-old male; *Cougar II, 1972 American champion turf horse; Kennedy Road, a multiple champion in Canada who would be named Canadian Horse of the Year in 1973; Annihilate ‘em, winner of the Travers Stakes in Secretariat’s absence; and Onion, Secretariat’s erstwhile conqueror.

Champion filly Desert Vixen had already tied the world record of 1:46-1/5 while winning the Beldame Stakes (gr, I) on the Marlboro Cup card, so there was no question that the track was playing fast as the Marlboro Cup field pranced onto the track. Nonetheless, Secretariat’s race was breathtaking. Chasing a six-furlong pace of 1:09-1/5 set by Riva Ridge, who had by that time wrested the lead from Onion, Secretariat ran down his stablemate before the mile marker, winning by two and one-half lengths in new world record time of 1:45-2/5 for nine furlongs.

Next up was the Woodward Stakes (gr. I), and waiting for Secretariat was Allen Jerkins, who had trained Onion to his upset of the champion. This time, the ace up Jerkins’ sleeve was Prove Out, a late-developing son of Graustark who was coming into his own as a top-class stayer. In hindsight, Laurin probably made a tactical error by backing off on Secretariat’s works prior to the race, but Prove Out turned in a race that would have been stellar by any standards but Secretariat’s own, running by Secretariat in the stretch to win by four and one-half lengths. The time for the mile and one-half was 2:25-4/5, second only to Secretariat’s world record time in the Belmont and a sparkling performance indeed given that the track was rated as “sloppy.”

Laurin returned to his winning formula of a sharp blowout before each of Secretariat’s last two races, and the colt responded beautifully. After working five-eighths in a sizzling :56-4/5 before the Man o’ War Stakes (gr. IT), the big red machine demolished seven opponents in the race itself, winning by five lengths over Tentam in new course record time of 2:24-4/5. No slouch himself, Tentam had won three grade I races in 1973 including the Metropolitan Handicap on dirt and the United Nations Handicap on turf.

Secretariat made his final start in the Canadian International Stakes (gr. IIT) on October 28. Unfortunately, he went without his partner Ron Turcotte, who was serving a suspension for a riding infraction. Veteran jockey Eddie Maple picked up the mount, while Turcotte served as a television commentator for the day. He must have been sad to see Secretariat going to the post for his final start without him, but surely he could not have been prouder of the result. Running without apparent effort, Secretariat put away Kennedy Road after a mile and strode home all alone to the finish, six and a half lengths in front.

And that was all. Although Secretariat was sound, healthy, and in top form following the Canadian International, the terms of his syndication called for him to be retired by November 15 so that he could begin his stud career at Claiborne Farm in 1974. The syndicate got a scare when early lab reports indicated that the colt was producing an unusually high percentage of immature sperm, but the lab was forgotten when Secretariat’s first test mare, an Appaloosa named Leola, was reported safely in foal. (Leola’s foal, a chestnut with Appaloosa markings who later received the name of First Secretary, achieved a measure of fame of his own by becoming an outstanding sire of Appaloosa show and performance horses.)

Few horses have ever gone to the breeding shed with higher expectations than did Secretariat, and few stallions have ever existed that could turn out the kind of results expected of Secretariat almost as a matter of course. Despite a stellar group of mates, Secretariat never achieved the kind of success that had been hoped for. Yet it would be most unfair to categorize him as a failure. His fifty-six stakes winners included General Assembly, winner of the 1979 Travers Stakes and a useful sire; Lady’s Secret, the 1986 American Horse of the Year; and Risen Star, who sealed honors as the American champion three-year-old male of 1988 by winning the Preakness and Belmont Stakes, the latter by fourteen lengths. Many observers later said that Risen Star might have duplicated his sire’s sweep of the Triple Crown had he not encountered traffic problems during the Kentucky Derby, in which he finished third.

A magnificent-looking stallion – he stood close to 16.3 hands and according to many old-timers closely resembled his ancestor Discovery, who was noted for his handsome physique as much as for his prowess as a great weight carrier – Secretariat attracted thousands of visitors to Claiborne until he was stricken with laminitis in September 1989. With the assistance of the best veterinary care available, Secretariat fought gallantly for life, but the infection refused to subside. On October 4, 1989, the inevitable decision to end his suffering was made, and he was buried in the Claiborne Farm horse cemetery. An autopsy revealed what was, perhaps, the secret behind Secretariat’s phenomenal ability: a heart twice the size of a normal Thoroughbred’s.

Since his passing, his male-line descent has headed towards probable extinction. Risen Star died young, and General Assembly did not sire a son capable of taking his place. Two-time Pacific Classic (gr. I) winner Tinners Way has disappointed as a sire, and the last hope of maintaining Secretariat’s male line may rest with the 2001 Jerome Handicap (gr. II) winner Express Tour (by Tour d’Or, by Medaille d’Or, by Secretariat), who stood his first season in 2004 at Lambholm South near Ocala, Florida. If Express Tour does succeed in revitalizing Secretariat’s line, he will provide another parallel between Secretariat and Man o’ War, for the latter’s sire line was resurrected through Florida-bred In Reality, who stood his entire stud career at Ocala’s Tartan Farm.

Regardless of what happens to his male line, Secretariat has earned breeding immortality through his daughters, who have produced some of the modern era’s top stallions. Among Secretariat’s maternal grandsons are such familiar names as Storm Cat, A.P. Indy, Summer Squall, Dehere, Gone West, and Chief’s Crown. Secretariat was the leading broodmare sire of 1992, when A.P. Indy was American Horse of the Year and, in the family tradition, won the Belmont Stakes.

Horse of the Year, champion three-year-old male, and champion grass horse in 1973, Secretariat ended his career having officially won sixteen of twenty-one starts for earnings of $1,316,808. He was inducted into the National Museum of Racing Hall of Fame in 1974, and his memory still lingers at Belmont, where his bronze statue forever races the wind as a tribute to his record-breaking victory. Another bronze statue, this one showing the great horse being led in from his Kentucky Derby victory, was unveiled at the Kentucky Horse Park in July 2004. And at the close of the twentieth century, a panel of experts selected by The Blood-Horse ranked Secretariat second only to Man o’ War among the greatest American racehorses of the twentieth century. Certainly, no horse of the post-World War II era has ever come closer to fulfilling the idea of the perfect racehorse.

Text © 2005 by Avalyn Hunter

Artwork © 2005 by Pat DeLong. Used by permission and may not be copied or distributed without the express consent of Pat DeLong. For information regarding purchases, reproductions, or licensing, please contact PatDeLong at patdelongart@aol.com.