Belmont Redraw

This is Part one! ONLY after finishing the story here, move on to part 2 [link]






Fight Club: [link]
Entering the URA's Kentucky Derby: [link]

Level : L 3

Discipline: Racing,dirt. 8-12 furlongs

Preak Preps:
Prep 1 [link]
Prep 2 [link]
Prep 3 [link]


Preak Training:
[link]
[link]
[link]


Derby Preps:
Fountain of Youth [link]
Florida Derby [link]
Arkansas Derby [link]

Derby Training:
[link]
[link]
[link]
[link]


Monthies:
April [link]
January [link]
Jan proof of second place [link]?
trainging for monthlies [link]

Races:
URA Kentucy Derby - 2nd place- [link]
URA Preakness - 2nd place - [link]

Woozle's Spring Bash [link]
Spring Bash Extra [link]

Kings and Queens Show Race [link]





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STORY is Complete! check out part 2 above to finish the race story

"D*mn....it's hot out here.." grumbled the jockey as he pulled on his boots.
"Yeah? Tough," Mark said simply. "You have bigger things to worry about. It's the last jewel of the Triple Crown and a big race. You *Need* to come in the money again, at the very least."
"_{and beat the crap out of that stupid Kyle and their ugly black horse..}" Lance hissed under his breath.
"What?" Mark asked, the older man turned back around from his clip board, not catching the youth’s grumbles.
Lance stood from the bench and stretched. "Oh .. Nothing..."
Mark just shrugged and walked to the offices to grab some water.
Lance watched him go before heading off to see his mount.
Fight Club stomped his hoof and snorted, eyes rolling back as a few grooms washed him down. The heat was so bad, Heather requested the colt be rinsed down an extra time as close to the race as possible...she worried about him getting sick.
“Hey there you crazy demon,” Lance murmured before turning to the grooms, “…I can take him back to his stall.”
“Are you sure you won’t need help?..he is a bit..”
“Of an @**?.. I know, but I can handle him just fine.”
The grooms threw a glance at each other, the head one shrugged. “If you say so Lance,” before handing the lead to the jockey.

Lance, clucked softly and led his fiery mount away from the wash rack. “You and I…we’re going to tear up some tail today boy,” the man cooed.
Fight Club snorted and danced at the end of his lead, trying to take a chomp out of his rider. He never did like the boy..but because of his personality, it was just viewed as normal Fight Club cheer…
“Hey you rat! Cut that out!” The jockey popped the colt on the nose with his lead, causing the horse to give a soft squeal, striking out with a hoof.
The jockey kept his calm though and avoided the blow, yanking on the halter to get his attention, “ Stop it,” he hissed. He didn’t like how this stupid ball of d@mn fire couldn’t consistently keep in first…it bugged him to no end! ~They aren’t hard enough on him..that’s all.~
Fight Club continued to dance around his jockey as they walked through the back yard, crossing paths with a few other horses. The other horses were mostly pretty friendly, offering up a soft whinny or cheerful nicker.. but everytime they did, Fight Club would snort and buck, yelling out a challenging bugle to them. ’I dare you to fight with me!’ he seemed to holler. ’I’ll put you in your place!’
“Cut that out!’ Lance snapped and gave a pull on the lead, forcing the colt to stay on all fours.
Others were very eager to get their horses past the demon, none of them wanted to risk their prized mount getting hurt in a fight. Who could blame them? No one wants their horses hurt! and Fight Club was one crazy hellion…. Who knew WHAT that horse would do to another racer, if he was allowed to attack. Lance calmed the horse and got him over to Iron Dune Stable’s section of the stabling. “Here we go cranky…the special little half stall..just for saddling a lunatic like you,” the jockey murmured.
Fight Club stepped into the opened half stall without a fuss. He even let the stable hands secure him without batting an eye. The colt thought it was food time..but as soon as he tack came out..and there were no treats at hand, all bets were off! Twisting and turning, the colt swayed side to side, seeking to crush all who dared restrain him.
The grooms had to pull the release on his lead or risk the thoroughbred seriously hurting himself. Quick as a whip, the colt backed out and turned to make a run out of the stall. Thankfully though, they managed to grab his leads and keep him in the aisle, preventing him from escaping.
“You are quite the stinker.,” Heather sighed as she approached slowly. The horse wasn’t jumping around too much, but he did let his annoyance known by stomping his hooves and tossing his head.
“Easy boy..” she girl cooed, showing her horse the delicious apple she’d brought.
Instantly, Fight Club’s ear perk forward and he stopped to stare. Apples…proof that God really did love horses..
“Alright, just tack him up really slow, and I’ll hold his attention.” She said softly to the others. A groom stood at either side of the horse’s head, holding on just in case he tried to take off again. This time though, the colt was too busy lipping at Heather as he begged for the crispy…ripe..tasty apple she held in her hand. It took only a few minutes and the horse was tacked up, happily munching on his reward. “There we go.” She murmured and rubbed his muzzle. Fight Club pinned his ears slightly but tolerated the mushy loving stuff from the girl’s rubbing. She did just feed him an apple.. and he was mean, not stupid. Biting her would mean he may never see an apple again! The colt gave a soft snort and ‘grumbled’ at her though, showing he was not enjoying this.
Heather smiled good naturedly and ended his torture, stepping back.
“Alright let’s get you two to the mounting area, “ Mark said and lead the jockey, horse, and a few grooms away.
The beast had reawaken and started jumping about. With grunts and snorts, Fight Club gave the Iron Dune Stable grooms a real workout.
Some reporters snickered and an animal rights activist ranted on and on about the cruelty of the stable. “This horse obviously doesn’t want to race! Notice how he fights his abusers!”
Mark rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath.
Lance glanced at the trainer and smirked at something the other man said, “I’m sorry..she’s saying HE is the abused one?...dang horse is abusing US ..” he murmured.
A groom nodded in agreement, “Loves to run..but hates our guts..”
It took 4 tries for Lance to finally get settled into his saddle but when he did, he made sure to hang on very well. The horse gave a little buck but stopped jumping around for the most part as he was lead in a circle.
Other stables made sure to give the group ‘breathing room’ , in case the brindle went crazy again as they all got lined up for the parade. The lead ponies arrived and the crowd got settled for the race. Heather quickly jogged up some steps as she headed towards her seats, having been grabbing some water. “Oh sorry! Sorry!” she quickly mumbled as she squeezed by some other people. A men winced when the girl accidentally stepped on his foot and she eventually reached her seat.
Mark sighed and looked at the track, “Let him do pretty much what he wants.”
Lance gave Mark a doubtful look but nodded, “If you say so..”

The horses lined up and began entering the gates. A few gave some tosses or baulked and kicked, but ‘the demon’ was the reigning champ when it came to putting up a fight. He reared and jumped about until he was wrestled into the box. Once inside, he decided that tossing his head was complaint enough…







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refs
Nyaorestock
Sooty-Bunnie