Aqueduct Wraps Amid Long-Lasting Memories

The death of any American racetrack is cause for mourning, but when a giant tree like Aqueduct Racetrack falls, the forest weeps. There is, of course, mitigation to the melancholy. The June 28 closing of Aqueduct is part of the master plan of New York racing around the new Belmont Park and an invigorated Saratoga Race Course. Unlike the closing of Golden Gate Fields out West, which marked the death of a Northern California racing circuit with only minor improvements in the south, New York's consolidation results in far fewer economic casualties. So, let the memories flow, and New York racetrackers are allowed their fulsome reminiscences. Perched here on the Left Coast, wedded for so long to Santa Anita Park and Hollywood Park at the extreme ends of the calendar, visits by this reporter to Aqueduct were few and far between. Perhaps that is why they remain so vivid to this day. The first occurred in 1974 on Nov. 9, the day before my birthday (also Richard Burton and the United States Marine Corps). I was giving myself a 1,200-pound present named Forego, who was coming to the end of his first Horse of the Year campaign in the Jockey Club Gold Cup (G1). Yes, Virginia, the Gold Cup once was a fixture at Aqueduct, as well as Belmont Park, or more recently at Saratoga, although soon to be returned to the new Belmont Park. At least it has stayed in New York. As a guest that weekend of the peerless Chic Anderson, who had been calling the races that season at Santa Anita, I cruised through the turnstiles and made a beeline for the grandstand to soak up the local flavor. The Long Island day was cool and crisp, downright freezing by Southern California standards, with temperatures probably dipping into the unbearable 40s. Late in the day, I braved the elements to stand by the rail in anticipation of the Gold Cup horses coming over to be saddled. As they passed, I ticked them off. There was Arbees Boy, who beat Forego in the Metropolitan Handicap (G1) while getting 24 pounds (not a typo). Stonewalk, a 3-year-old, had won derbies in Ohio and Illinois as well as the Gotham Stakes (G2) at Aqueduct in the spring, though at half the distance of the 2-mile Gold Cup. Group Plan, trained by Allen Jerkens, was fresh from a romp in the Hawthorne Gold Cup (G2). Did Chief the Giant Killer have another Secretariat in his sights? Then something happened. The light from a pale, thin sun was suddenly eclipsed as Forego came along the outside rail, casting a 17-hand shadow. Everything about him was overstated. Nostrils the size of saucers. Long whiskers tickled by the breeze. The height of a bookshelf and the length of a comfortable couch. He disappeared into the paddock, then emerged with Heliodoro Gustines attached, wearing the colors of Martha Gerry that by then everyone had memorized. Of the race, I recall the excited burst of applause as the field filed under the wire the first time around, with Group Plan on the lead and Forego well back. It was an honest mistake. Happens all the time at a bullring. Three weeks earlier, Forego won the 7-furlong Vosburgh Handicap (G2) from the same starting point. On this day, however, another lap was required of the 9-furlong course. I was up in the stands at the end to see Gustines simply flagging his whip at Forego's big head to win by a cozy margin of 2 1/2 lengths. And that was that. On my first trip to the Big A, the world's best racehorse put on a show. How does it get any better? Eleven years later, on another November day, a herd of the world's best convened for the one and only Breeders' Cup offered at Aqueduct. One of them was Rousillon, Europe's champion miler, who was due to arrive near midnight a few days before his race. Having exhausted the entertainment possibilities of Ozone Park, I headed for the Aqueduct stables to help greet the Juddmonte Farm runner. Rousillon appeared as scheduled, a dark bay looking sleek as a wet seal in the chilly night. And among the small group bearing witness was none other than Khalid Abdullah, the colt's proud owner. I was impressed, but that's how the prince rolled, a man who couldn't get enough of his horses. On race day, Aqueduct was done up in its utilitarian finest. I was there as part of the Breeders' Cup notes team, which made for a crazy day interrupted by the occasional championship race. The winners of those original seven events included Tasso, Twilight Ridge, Cozzene, Life's Magic, Pebbles, and Proud Truth. But they could have called it a day after Precisionist, the lanky red colt I'd followed through three California campaigns, won the Breeders' Cup Sprint (G1) off a 4 1/2-month layoff. In 1990, Unbridled was the toast of the racing world as the winner of the Kentucky Derby (G1) and the Breeders' Cup Classic (G1). The following spring, his little brother Cahill Road, also by Fappiano out of the Le Fabuleux mare Gana Facil, was on a relentless march through a series of measured preps leading toward a seemingly inevitable appearance in the Kentucky Derby. Scotty Schulhofer, on his way to the Hall of Fame, was the keeper of the family jewels. I was in town from California to help celebrate the early days of the Racing Times and its challenge to the Daily Racing Form for the hearts and minds of the betting public. As a bonus, Cahill Road would be running in the Wood Memorial (G1) at Aqueduct April 20, 1991, next stop Louisville. LeRoy Jolley was trying to recapture some Genuine Risk magic with champion filly Meadow Star, but the Wood belonged to Cahill Road, an easy winner by three. Unfortunately, he won the race on three good ankles. The colt was favoring his left fore while entering the winner's circle on a strained suspensory ligament, which marked Aqueduct as his last stand. As memorable as they were, only three visits to a place like Aqueduct make for a meager sampling. As luck would have it, this writer has at hand an individual whose Aqueduct history is of considerably more breadth. Julie Krone, the lady of this house, descended upon the Big A in the fall of 1987, wide-eyed and innocent to the ways of the powerhouse jockey colony she dared to invade from her Mid-Atlantic circuit. Commencing that November, Krone, 24 at the time, began picking up a mount or two at Aqueduct while riding full-time at the Meadowlands. By early December, her New York business was on the rise, and she had six mounts on the Dec. 11 card, including the maiden colt Its Acedemic, trained by Luis Barrera, plus 10 rides that night at Meadowlands. "It's hard to describe what a big deal it was to be riding in New York," Krone said recently. "Even going from New Jersey, just across the river, the perception was a giant leap to riding against guys like Angel Cordero, Jorgie Velasquez, and Jean Cruguet." Which is why that maiden race of 12/11/87 is still the first that comes to mind, despite her many subsequent Aqueduct successes. Why? "Because it was the only double disqualification I was ever involved with," she replied. "How many have there been, anyway?" Rounding into the Aqueduct stretch that day, Krone found herself floated wide by Cordero to her inside, just as Velasquez came to her right flank and began angling inward. For the last furlong or more, she was the filling in a Hall of Fame sandwich, pinballing between the two veterans while her befuddled colt held his ground. "We finished together, I was third, and they put up the inquiry sign right away," Krone said. "After talking on the phone with the stewards, Angel was very indignant they would question his ride. I remember walking back to the room and looking at the tote board flashing the three numbers. Then it went black, and when the numbers came up again, mine was on top. "At the movies the next day, Bill Boland, one of the stewards, couldn't help giggling at the sight of me bouncing around between those two," Krone added. "He said, 'Welcome to New York, kid.'" And farewell, Big A.