…from Chapter 26: Spring in New York-Riding with the Best

Excerpt from my book, Racing With My Shadow

Beating Angel Cordero at Aqueduct

Not only had I made the leading jockey list after just four months in New York, I was getting more opportunities to ride quality horses. I was learning about “good” horses, and how very different they were from ordinary horses.

Good horses were special. They were gifted, both physically and mentally. Talented, athletic horses always seemed to be smart, intelligent horses. They didn’t run, they floated.

These horses were so well balanced you couldn’t feel their action as they moved over the ground: not the pushing off from behind, nor the pounding as each leg hit the ground. It was a fluid motion. I loved it when I got the chance to ride one of these horses.

With the nicer spring weather, the top racing outfits wintering in Florida or California filtered back onto the New York racing scene. The better-quality horses and trainers changed the whole mood of racing.

The riding colony seemed to change overnight, as well. No longer were the “winter riders” getting the mounts. The established “name” jockeys who had gone south for the winter now replaced them: Angel Cordero, Jorge Velasquez, Jacinto Vasquez, and Eddie Maple, to name a few.

These were the jockeys that trainers wanted to use. Even though it would be harder to get mounts, I looked forward to the challenge of riding with the best.

The first race I rode with all of them back made a big impact on me.

This is my big chance. I’m in the gate between two of the world’s greatest riders. To my right is Angel Cordero, Jr. To my left, Jorge Velasquez. I’m psyched. I want to beat them more than anything else in the world. I want to do it right here, right now. On their turf. Not at the Meadowlands, like I’ve done before. No. Right here. In New York.

Mansard, the dark bay horse with the white blaze on his face was trembling beneath me. I could feel him shake, as he anticipated the start. His neck was slightly lathered. I looked around behind the gate and saw that there were still three more horses left to load.

“Relax, boy.” I patted his neck, then wiped my hand dry on my pants. “You’re going to need it when it counts.”

“Karoleeena!”

I looked over at Angel sitting beside me in the next stall. He looked like a bumble bee in his black and yellow silks, hunched over with his goggles down. He was smiling at me. Karoleena. He always called me that. I smiled back at him.

“You goin’, baby? You got speed?” he asked, his expression changing to a more serious one.

“We’ll soon find out,” was all I said.

I glanced down at my colors. The black and white silks belonged to Barry K. Schwartz (of “Calvin Klein” jeans fame). I just had to win. I would show everyone who was back from Florida that I wasn’t just a winter rider, but that I could compete with the best and win.

Mansard could have had a top jockey on him, one of the many who were back in New York now, but his owner and trainer had chosen me. I wasn’t about to let them down. The jockeys to my left and right only made me more determined to prove my point.

“Baaang.” The metal doors slammed open. My horse came out first. He held onto the lead for the whole race and we won!

Even though the win wasn’t a stakes race, it was of great importance to me. It was the first time I had beaten the best New York jockeys—not the winter jockeys—on their turf.

Leading jockeys list – Belmont Park

I was gaining the respect of the top jockeys. Willie Shoemaker, a famous jockey based in California, came to New York to ride. Angel was sitting with him, watching the rerun of my race. I was behind them and overheard the conversation.

“See that jock on the lead?” Angel asked, pointing to my horse.

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s a girl.”

“Nah. No way. That rider looks too good to be a girl,” was Shoemaker’s reply.

“Want to bet on it?” Angel asked.

“Wow,” said Shoemaker. “I wish I could get that low on a horse. I wish I could look as good!”

These words, coming from two masters of the game—Cordero and Shoemaker—meant more to me than anything.

I was also gaining respect from the trainers. But I could never forget that I still had the bug.

I thought about all the other successful apprentices who had made it in New York, only to fall by the wayside after losing their bug. Riding winners was still my best chance for continued success.

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