Ruffian & Affirmed

I used to be into Thoroughbred racing. I followed the Triple Crown races religiously. (But then, who doesn't nowadays? Seems to be the new fad.) I stood and cheered at the Arlington Million, paid for a subscription to The Blood-Horse magazine, and all around just loved the sport.

Then, as I do with nearly everything, I researched what happens to race horses that don't finish at the top of the game. It isn't pretty, and it's very cruel. So much for that sport.

I still have the framed photos and special issue magazines and memorabilia hanging in my apartment, though. For better or worse, there are some amazing heroes in the sport. Above my desk hang memories of one such filly, Ruffian. I've only seen her in film, never in person. She was before my time. She was breathtaking, a regal and graceful being who pranced as if she held the title of Ruler over all horses. A deep dark brown to black, shiny, with beautiful, perfect conformation. The man who wrote The Black Stallion, Walter Farley, is said to have proclaimed Ruffian closer in appearance to his vision for the fictitious "The Black" horse character he wrote about than any stallion he had ever seen.

Ruffian was a fierce spirit with an instinct to win over any cost. Not only did she win every race she entered, she was never headed in any of them. Meaning, right from the time the gun fired, the gates opened, and the Thoroughbreds burst through to look for the finish line, Ruffian went straight to the lead and never relinquished it.

There was a huge buzz in 1975 over a match race between Ruffian and Foolish Pleasure, a stallion who was undefeated as a 2 year old. Like other male vs. female matchups at the time, the race turned, unfairly, into a publicity campaign for women to prove the sexes equal. The hype surrounding the race and the hopes the feminist movement pinned on this filly were both understandable. Unfortunately, they were also fatal.

At the sound of the gun, Ruffian stumbled slightly out of the gate as her shoulder rammed hard against the metal. With Jacinto Vasquez having chosen to ride Ruffian over Foolish Pleasure even though he was the regular rider for both horses, Ruffian quickly regained her composure and it was full steam ahead. After a quarter mile, just as she headed Foolish Pleasure and then gained the lead by half a length -- SNAP! -- her ankle literally exploded. Vasquez tried to pull her up, but the filly wouldn't have it. Ruffian may have suffered an injury, but she wasn't going down. She continued running even after her body had quit. When Vasquez finally got her to stop, her hoof was barely attached. Her ligaments and bones, hanging out of her skin, were filled with dirt from the pounding they received after the fracture and Ruffian's refusal to let it keep her from her goal. Unfortunately, her refusal to quit wasn't enough to keep her from being humanely euthanized after it was clear the injuries were too severe for repair. Foolish Pleasure technically took the W in that race, but no one believed him to be the winner.

Next to Ruffian on my wall is perhaps the greatest Thoroughbred of all time. At least in my book. Sure, Ruffian was beautiful and fierce and undefeated, and Secretariat is still in the record books as the best, but for spirit and sheer determination, no one beats Affirmed.

Let's go back to 1978, the year Affirmed won the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness Stakes, and the Belmont Stakes to become the 11th, and last, Triple Crown winner. The most important thing to know about Affirmed is the rivalry he had with another famous Thoroughbred, Alydar. Between the two of them, Alydar had the better pedigree. He looked like a winner, too. He was more streamlined in his conformation, elegant, gorgeous, imposing. Affirmed didn't have the flash Alydar had.

At their first meeting, Affirmed barely squeaked out a win while Alydar finished fifth. From that point on, however, whenever they met on the racetrack they ran 1-2 every time.

If you've never seen the 1978 Belmont Stakes race, watch it. It's one of my favorite moments in the history of sports. And yes, I've seen Kirk Gibson pump his fist rounding the bases, I've seen the 1980 Miracle on Ice, and I've seen the impossible vault of Kerri Strug on a broken ankle, but I've never seen heart like Affirmed had in 1978 running that Belmont track.

The Belmont is the last leg of the Triple Crown. It's also the hardest leg. It breaks the heart of many a racehorse not to mention the pocketbook of many a racing enthusiast. The experts had Alydar favored to win. He lost to Affirmed by a length in the Kentucky Derby, but everyone knows the Derby is a wildcard race, anyway, with sloppy dirt and a big field of competitors that are unpredictable. When the Preakness came, it was no surprise that Affirmed won. It's a shorter trip than the Derby. The surprise was the margin of victory. Affirmed beat Alydar by a head. It seemed Alydar was closing the distance. Affirmed, always an early leader in a race, and Alydar, always a late breaker, would have a lot more track to battle it out, and everyone assumed the edge would go to Alydar.

The two horses broke away from the rest of the field at about a half mile, and then it's just them. They run neck and neck, with Affirmed always holding onto the slightest lead. The other horses might was well not exist in this race because everyone knows it's between the 1-2 duo. When they get to the final turn and they're heading for home, Affirmed leads but, again, just barely. They're are both giving it all they've got. They're both digging deep, running hard, pounding dirt, and proving their mettle. Intensity. Focus. It's pure adrenaline. And in that final stretch, only seconds from the finish line, Alydar passes Affirmed. He gets a nose on him, and then a head. And that's it! The crowd is on their feet and cheering! Their bets are going to pay off! They listened to the experts, they read their racing forms, they know that all Alydar needed was a longer race and he, the more superior pedigreed horse, would beat the horse no one dreamed would come this far.

Or so they thought.

Apparently, everyone forgot to tell Affirmed he was a loser. No one counted on the heart of this animal. I have never seen a horse, in a race with this much anticipation and this much at stake, be headed in the final stretch and fight back to win. But that's exactly what happened. When you watch it, when I watch it even though I've seen it a hundred times, I still can't believe it. I still tear up. It's incredible! Affirmed just refuses to lose. He's at the end of the race, the part where you've already given all you've got, where the reserves have long since been spent, where your most competitive rival just passed you, and you're staring at his neck from behind and realizing the final seconds are here and you've got nothing.

And yet, he battles. From somewhere, he finds it. He just digs in and finds it. Just before they get to that final pole, a split second before it's lights out and curtains closed, Affirmed sticks his nose in front of Alydar and takes the Belmont.

That's why more than any other figures in sports, Ruffian and Affirmed are my heroes. They have that quality I want to emulate. The desire to never call it quits, never say die, never let anyone tell you that you can't make it. It doesn't matter where you come from, what you have or have not been given in life. You can't let anyone predict your failure. Not even yourself. Perhaps the strongest, loudest, and most critical voice of all is that one in your head that tells you every morning you wake up you are one more day into failure.

That voice of yours, that voice of mine, when it says give up, it's too late, you're never going to make it now -- I look up at my pictures of Ruffian and Affirmed, and I tell that voice to shut up.