VIRGIL VENGFUL

VIRGIL VENGEFUL GOES TO THE ALL AMERICAN

During the years that we raised Quarter Horse racehorses, we nominated a number of foals for the All American Futurity that is run on Labor Day each year in Ruidoso, New Mexico. For many years, it was the richest horserace in the world, with $1 million dollars going to the winner. Foals are nominated during their first year of life, with periodic payments until entry time. Foals can be nominated late, but the fees are very high. Virgil Vengeful is the only colt we made all the payments on, based on his first career race which he won in near record time. The All American series of races follows a grueling schedule for these youngsters that are, at most, 32 months old. Many, or I could say, most, come from sea level or near sea level. They have to run three 440 yard (1/4 mile) races within a 30-day period at an altitude of 1 mile. The first races of the series are elimination trials in which the first, second and third place horses advance to the time trials. The fastest ten times run during these next races progress to the final run on Labor Day. The next ten fastest times compete in the

First Consolation race, and depending on total number of horses that actually enter the series, there may be a Second Consolation race. Virgil Vengeful shipped to Ruidoso with five races under his belt. He’d won four of those. The year was 1991 and the 285 colts entered in the All American Futurity gathered on the mountain for the biggest and most prestigious contest in the Quarter Horse racing world. Virgil easily skipped down the track to win his first race in the series, qualifying for the time trials. During the ten days between races, he held court in the shed row, generally raising hell and making his presence known to one and all. Our trainer, Brent Morris, was a good old Georgia boy and he could be heard all over the barn area yelling at Virgil in his slow Georgia drawl, “Goddamnit, Virgil, shut up!!!” Brent’s wife, Rosie, was in the track kitchen one morning and while talking to a groom from some other stable, told him she was married to Brent and which barn they were in. The groom told her how sorry he felt for that fellow, Virgil, that worked for her husband, the one Brent was always cussing out. Rosie fell over laughing and then explained that Virgil was not a stable hand, but a horse. The heat really turned up for the time trials. That year, 84 colts out of the original 285 had qualified from the next set of qualifying races, the time trials. There were nine time trial races with nine or ten horses in each race. The difference at that point was that the colts are not only running against each other, but against the clock. It was possible to qualify for the finals without ever winning a race. Only the fastest ten times run would get a shot at the million dollars. Ruidoso weather and wind is a real factor in those races, since time is recorded to the 1/100 th of a second. Virgil’s race was early in the day and as the post parade hit the track, I looked up and saw the flag hanging limp on the pole. Virgil’s jet-black coat was gleaming as he pranced and bucked alongside the pony horse. When the gates opened, he took the lead and didn’t let it go, winning the race, but we still had another six races to go that day before we knew if he’d made it to the finals.

As the day progressed, the wind picked up, blowing straight up the track directly behind the horses and the times got faster. Still, Virgil’s time kept him in the finals, until the electronic time clock broke during one of the heats which then had to be hand-timed. It always seemed suspicious that the track owner, a man named Hubbard, had a filly that ran 4th in that race. It looked like a slow race, but obviously we were all wrong, because it ended up being so fast that four horses from the race went to the finals. And that is what knocked Virgil down from the finals to the First Consolation. In addition to that bad break, Virgil bled during his race. This happens when a small hairlike capillary ruptures in the horse’s lungs from exertion. They can choke on the blood if they can’t blow it out their nostrils. New Mexico allows the use of the drug, Lasix on bleeders and in a lot of horses, it prevents a recurrence. Virgil came out of the time trials in good shape and seemed to recover quickly. He trained well for the next ten days or so, continuing his reign as supreme commander of his shed row. He kept raising hell and Brent kept screaming “VIRGIL!!!”

Labor Day arrived to find Jack and I were basket cases. There we were with our little home-bred horse, who had already outrun 270 of the best two-year-old Quarter Horses in the racing world, trained by the best trainers in the world. He was the only colt in the series that had won both races leading up to the final race, which meant he would have already outrun the eventual winner. He would be running on Lasix for the first time, and we hoped it would prevent any more bleeding. May I tell you that I really found out what hyperventilation feels like. I couldn’t eat, or sleep, or breathe. I was so nervous that morning that when I tried to drink coffee, by the time I

got the cup to my mouth, there was only one swallow left. Jack had had a heart attack less than a year before, and he was popping nitroglycerin tablets like candy. The First Consolation was run that day just before the Futurity finals. It was pretty hot and there was no breeze blowing. When the horses came on the track, Virgil was his usual exuberant self, jumping and twisting, neck bowed, prancing alongside the pony horse. The New Mexico handicappers had not liked him since we had been there and kept letting him go off at really high odds. I think he went off at 20-1 in the time trials and I had already won a bundle on him. The bookies were still overlooking him on this day. I really don’t remember what the final odds were, but they were still in the 20-1 range. We were in the Jockey Club with some of my old-time horse show friends from Snyder, Texas, including Judy Hays. Every few minutes, I’d get up and go bet another $100 on Virgil to win. I have no idea how many times I did that, but I bet on him until I ran out of $100 bills. Finally, the horses were behind the gates and started to load. Always, when Virgil was handed off to one of the track crew that heads the horses in the gates (holds their head straight in the gate), he became all business and his goofing off ceased. He was there to do a job and he wasn’t going to let anybody beat him. The gates opened and “THEY’RE OFF!!!” Virgil Vengeful took the lead… and held it… and won it!!! I’ll never forget looking up at the monitor as Jack and I were on the way to the Winner’s Circle and seeing the camera zoom in on Virgil with that gorgeous head out front as he crossed the finish line. Leave it to ole Virge to keep things interesting. As Brent was leading him into the winner’s circle, he looked over at me and said, “He’s going down! Let me get him on the grass!” and Virgil collapsed. Brent was holding Virgil’s head in his lap and I was stroking the horse’s neck and begging him not to die. Everybody seemed to be moving in slow motion. All the jockeys were circled around saying, “Come on, Virgil! Get up! You can do it, boy. Get up.” One of them filled his helmet with water and started bathing him to cool him down. Meahwnile, the track crew was milling around complaining about the delay of the races. They had already brought up the horse ambulance and had the chains out to drag Virge into the trailer. The President of the Quarter Horse Association was standing there holding the trophy unsure what to do with it. Somebody else was holding the cooler to be awarded, and my friend Judy Hays walked over to the AQHA president and asked him if he knew the lady who owned the horse. When he shook his head no, she said, “Well, I do, and I strongly recommend that no one touch that animal as long as he’s still breathing. Everybody that knows her will tell you that her love of her horses is legendary. This place will find out what a wildcat looks like if you don’t wait a little bit longer.” After what seemed like hours, our vet, Dr. Storey, came flying up and gave Virgil a couple of shots. In just a few minutes, Virgil blinked, stood up, gave a good shake, and looked over at the grandstand with his ears up to acknowledge his standing ovation. Then he marched off to step in the trailer and ride down the track. I swear he gave them all a royal horse wave. As the adrenaline drained out through my toes, I wobbled back up to the Jockey Club. When Virge won the race, I had left my pile of winning tickets on the table without a thought. Fortunately, Judy Hays had picked them up and cashed them in for me. As she handed me a huge wad of $100 bills, she said she had no idea how much was there, that they had just kept counting out $100s at the window. I don’t think I ever even counted it, but it was a lot of money. Jimmy Randalls, an old cutting horse acquaintance and big New Mexico rancher came over with his wife to congratulate us. Jimmy, at that time, was a New Mexico State Commissioner or something important. He said, “Pat, who named that horse Virgil?” He started laughing and said, “Never mind. It could only have been you.” His wife told me that when Virgil stood up, there had not been a dry eye in the entire grandstand. She said a few people were openly sobbing. Virgil Vengeful’s performance that day overshadowed the finals of the All American Futurity, making the rest of the day totally anti-climactic. He had made the Quarter Horse world give him his due. He didn’t win the million dollars, even though his pay day was substantial, but he won the hearts of the Quarter Horse racing world.