THE SATURDAY POST

Last weekend, I traveled to Hollywood Park to watch Zenyatta make her bid to win her seventeenth undefeated career start.

At the track, someone asked me, “So, what brings you to California?”

The answer was easy. “Zenyatta.”

The person seemed surprised that I had traveled to Hollywood for a single horse.

However, in my opinion, Zenyatta isn’t just a good horse.

She is a living legend.

I wanted to be there to watch her stride into the history books in her record-breaking seventeenth career victory.

It appears that I wasn’t the only one who felt this way.

Prior to the race, Hall of Fame Trainer Bob Baffert stood in the paddock and surveyed Zenyatta before settling into his seat to watch her in the Vanity Handicap.

Later, when I thumbed through my racing program, I realized that Baffert didn’t have a single horse entered in a race at Hollywood Park that day.

Apparently, Baffert also wanted to watch Zenyatta challenge the undefeated records of Cigar and Citation.

And, as usual, Zenyatta didn’t disappoint.

In front of a crowd that appeared to be screaming for one single horse, she delivered her seventeenth consecutive victory in a heart-stopping moment at the finish line.

The entire park shook with excitement in the dizzying minutes that followed.

Zenyatta had made history again.

Prior to entering the winner’s circle, Zenyatta stood alone in front of the crowd and took in a long standing ovation.

It was as if she knew that she had just delivered pure magic.

And, in retrospect, I believe Zenyatta did know.

I learned a lot of lessons from my visit with Zenyatta that demonstrated the beauty surrounding a true legend.

First, Zenyatta delivers quite a greeting to her guests at the stable.

When we walked into her barn, my friend asked, “Where’s Zenyatta?” as she surveyed the stalls of horses.

Zenyatta answered the question with authority.

The giant mare rattled in her stall and stuck her head out. She stared right at us and never shifted her gaze as we stood watching her in awe.

It was stunning.

When her trainer John Shirreffs appeared, he matched Zenyatta’s hospitality to her guests.

After briefly greeting us, he slipped into his office.

At that moment, I envisioned that he was calling security to kick us out.

I could not have been more wrong.

Within a few seconds, Shirreffs re-emerged with a smile and a card with Zenyatta’s photo on it.

He handed me the photo as a souvenir as Zenyatta began to parade around the barn in preparation for her morning workout.

When I began to take pictures, she demonstrated her mastery of the camera eye.

As she drew close to the lens, Zenyatta paused and rose her head to demonstrate her full height.

She posed.

The next day, Zenyatta had a much larger audience to please as she prepared to challenge history in the Vanity Handicap.

As I stood in the paddock, I looked out at the large crowd of fans that lined the rails to catch a glimpse of her in the flesh.

The audience was speckled with Zenyatta fan gear – ranging from hand-painted signs to Zenyatta jerseys.

I drew the second lesson from Zenyatta in that moment.

At the pinnacle of success, character is shown through being gracious and charitable to everyone.

The jerseys that bore Zenyatta’s name were being sold to benefit Thoroughbred retirement and rescue.

Throughout Hollywood Park, fans weaved through the crowd adorned with the jerseys that represented Zenyatta’s charitable hoofprint.

And, as Zenyatta’s connections began to emerge in the paddock, they greeted the fans with the same excitement as Zenyatta demonstrated the previous morning.

Owners Jerry and Ann Moss entered the gates and waved at the onlookers with a giant smile.

And, when the Zenyatta set foot in the paddock, she delivered her dazzling dance steps without a care in the world.

Yet, despite the whirlwind of fan fare, Zenyatta was in the unshakeable gaze of one individual – Trainer John Shirreffs.

Zenyatta never left his sight as she danced and bowed for fans.

And, as I watched Shirreffs, it occurred to me that one principle stood solid in her success beyond racing or records: Put the welfare of the horse first.

In a single moment, I learned that Zenyatta isn’t only first at the finish line.

The well-being of Zenyatta comes first before she ever sets foot on a track.

Yet, in a few minutes, the idea of finishing first in the Vanity Handicap took center stage in the public sphere as Zenyatta pranced toward the track in response to the call to post.

As she entered the gates toward history, Zenyatta delivered a lesson that resonates strongly amidst the ongoing comparisons of her record to other champion race horses.

She didn’t look at her rivals.

Her gaze was marked firmly on the track laid before her own eyes.

Zenyatta didn’t compare herself to Rachel Alexandra.

She didn’t compare herself to the legacies set forth by horses like Ruffian or Secretariat.

Zenyatta failed to see the good that comes from comparing her accomplishments to other champions.

And, as far as I can tell, Zenyatta doesn’t spend her days undermining the achievements of fellow racehorses.

She just keeps racing.

And, she just keeps winning.

And - she doesn’t sling mud in the process.

In my opinion, Zenyatta’s winning philosophy provides a valuable lesson beyond comparison.

In her famous poem, One Art, Elizabeth Bishop begins by pondering “The Art of Losing” with the idea that some things are fated to be lost.

In the moment of loss, Bishop starts the poem with the notion that losing should not be viewed as a heartbreaking event.

In fact, she goes on to write that it should be practiced.

In my view, it is hard to point to many horses that practiced “The Art of Losing” with the same grace of Sham.

And, decades after Sham raced, there is a certain lingering sadness over Sham’s fate of being born at the wrong time – the year Secretariat was making his bid for the Triple Crown.

As Secretariat shattered records in his Triple Crown season, Sham stood in the shadows waging a beautiful racing performance.

He was a great horse in his own right.

And, in a sport where winning is nearly everything, Sham demonstrated that there is an “art” to losing.

As Sham entered the 1973 Kentucky Derby, the colt banged his head on the side of the starting gate, knocking out two of his teeth.

As he bled throughout the race, Sham never stopped chasing after Secretariat with his determination to win.

At the wire, Secretariat beat Sham by 2 ½ lengths – capturing the record time of 1:59 2/5 in the Kentucky Derby.

However, Sham also broke the Kentucky Derby record during his loss – finishing at a time of 1:59 4/5.

As Secretariat was draped in roses, Sham was guided toward his barn to cauterize the wounds to his two teeth.

Although Sham received no records or roses for his efforts, he stood a victor in ”The Art of Losing.”

Two weeks later, Sham set foot on the track in the Preakness.

As Secretariat began his graceful stride from last to first, Sham banged the rail on the clubhouse turn.

However, despite being rattled, Sham kept his eyes on his rival.

He raced onward to chase Secretariat to the finish line.

In the end, Secretariat beat Sham by 2 ½ lengths in the Preakness – the champion arguably breaking the record time for the race in his victory.

However, Sham didn’t stop in the face of an impossible rival.

As a master of “The Art of Losing,” Sham went back to his barn and prepared to challenge Secretariat in the longest race in North America.

And, when the day of the Belmont arrived, Sham demonstrated a powerful lesson in “The Art of Losing.”

When he entered the gates, Sham was soaking wet and nervous.

But, he didn’t back down.

Instead, Sham broke from the gates and challenged Secretariat to a virtual match race in the backstretch.

In the golden seconds that followed, Sham gave everything he had to challenge fate and beat his rival.

But, having been practiced at “The Art of Losing,” Sham found that fate isn’t subject to argument.

As Secretariat blasted forward to win by 31 lengths, Sham tired and fell back to finish dead last.

While Secretariat received a Triple Crown coronation, Sham was led back to the barn in defeat.

However, Sham proved himself a champion though his losses.

He poured his entire heart into trying to win.

And, quite possibly, Sham may have won the Triple Crown in a different field.

But, he was racing a giant that could not be matched.

After the Belmont, Sham never raced again. He retired to Spendthift Farm in July of 1973 and eventually moved to Walmac International.

On April 3, 1993, the nightwatchman discovered that Sham had passed away from an apparent heart attack in the early morning.

Upon examination, it was discovered that Sham had a heart that weighed eighteen pounds – roughly double the size of the average Thoroughbred.

There was only one known Thoroughbred heart larger than his on record in North America.

The heart of his lifelong rival – Secretariat.

In three single races, two amazing horses met their fate in 1973.

Thorough his victories, Secretariat set new records for the racing world to marvel over for countless decades.

And, through defeat, Sham delivered some of the most poetic moments in racing by practicing “The Art of Losing.”