Racehorse

I hadn't fallen in love with a horse yet this year until Saturday.

Really good performances start voices whispering. He could be good. He could be... more than good. He could win the Derby. He could...

But you have to ignore the voices. They are deceptive. They will make a fool of you. If you speak of them aloud, they might be a jinx.

Bellamy Road took the lead at the start of the Wood Memorial and never looked back. He put more and more distance on the field, black-bay coat gleaming, stride utterly even and smooth, ticking off the seconds. Into a headwind, equalling Riva Ridge's track record, shattering the stakes record, winning by seventeen lengths under a hand ride. And never fully extended. The outrider had to help the jockey pull up after the race.

The rest of the field was irrelevant. There was only Bellamy Road and the wind.

And the voices.

...He's moving like a tremendous machine.