DERBY DAY

Morning comes early in Louisville on the first Saturday in May. Amid lush green rolling hills, Magnolias and Dogwoods burst with color heralding Spring's fresh newness. Gentle mist enshrouds the pastures, kissing softly the paddocks of storied Churchill Downs. By end of day a champion will be crowned, the garland of roses draped across his neck.

In wooden stalls, lined with hay, magnificent creatures stir. Three-year olds all and in their prime. It is as if they know this is no ordinary day. Thoroughbreds, tracing their lineage to sires flushed with royalty, Darley Arabian, Godolphin Arabian or Byerley Turk awaken. They have been raised from birth for just a day as this. It is their destiny, the day that fate prescribed from the moment they were foaled.

Grooms and trainers soon will rouse their charges, readying each for what is said to be the most electrifying two minutes in all of sport. Still abed, riders dream of immortality. With blazing silks of red or green, royal blue and scarlet, they will mount these steeds and become as one. "Riders up" the steward will proclaim.

For this one day the South will be as old. In all their finery, gentlemen and gentlewomen sip their juleps slowly and await. They await the herald dressed in polished boots, white riding britches, frock coat and short brimmed cap, to place a trumpet to his lips, blaring out the fanfare, Call To Track. Soon all eyes will turn and adore these splendid creatures. As the first lays foot upon the oval, many dab at teary eyes as strains of My Old Kentucky Home fill the air as is tradition.

Parading past her storied grandstand, jockeys in full mount, each led by grooms astride a stable mate, speak softly into equine ears. Soothing hands pat caresses over sleek and shiny necks. Soon, man and horse will thunder forward, hopefully to add their names to legend, Arcaro sitting high atop Citation, young Cauthen guiding a dauntless Affirmed or Turcotte's fastest ride of all upon a thundering Secretariat.

One by one handlers load their charges into the confining starting gate. Assuring hands and calming voices from their jockeys assure these regal beings that all is well. Some are soothed while others balk. At a moment just as this, we tend forget that even these, these thousands pounds of athlete, trained and primed, are but quivering masses of uncertainty. Slowly and assuredly man and horse settle to a rhythm, two hearts beat as one as man and horse become one being.

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