Horse Racing: The Most Famous Race Horse

When the thoroughbred American Pharoah crossed the finish line at Belmont Park, he became the most famous race horse in decades. Millions of people watching that race saw Images of joy and excitement in the crowd. Newspapers and talk shows focused on American Pharoah’s athleticism and skill. But no one talked about the years of sacrifice and determination that went into the Triple Crown win. I know that story well. My family owns American Pharoah.
Horse racing is more than just a sport; it is a lifestyle. From as long as I can remember, I have been working in stables and getting to know the animals. When I met American Pharaoh as a foal, I knew there was something different about him. He carried himself with grace; he was calm and peaceful
no matter what the circumstances. When the other horses kicked and bit, he was above such foolishness. I knew he was destined for greatness. But his first race proved me wrong. Although he was the favorite by a lot, he lost by a lot. I could not believe my eyes. My dad and the trainer talked about what could have gone awry. Watching replays of the race, I got the idea that perhaps American Pharoah was afraid of the crowd and the noise around him. I knew this about him because it is also true about me. Sometimes, when I have attention on me, I can get nervous. When I pointed out this observation, the trainer suggested we try putting ear plugs in the horse’s ears to soften the noise. And it worked. American Pharoah never lost another race.
He taught me the importance of having faith. He also showed me how, sometimes, the little things in life can count a lot. It is hard to believe that the difference between a Triple Crown winner and a forgotten horse could be a set of ear plugs. Although his racing days are behind him now, I still visit American Pharaoh and remember the day he was born. My visits to Kentucky always include time with him and another special horse, Paynter. After the biggest win of his career, Paynter developed an illness called laminitis that prevented him from running. This, of course, is the kiss of a death for a race horse. Many doctors told us to put him down and collect the insurance money. They pointed out that one pill for the sick horse would cost thousands of dollars. While I understood the financial ramifications involved, I pointed out that Paynter was still a living creature and deserved a second chance. Thankfully, my dad agreed with me. Many months later, Paynter recovered and went on to run in America’s biggest race of the year, The Breeder’s Cup Classic. He didn’t finish first, but, in my mind, he was a winner. And so were all of us who believed in him. Behind every newspaper clipping of American Pharaoh is a story of an Egyptian-American-Jewish family who defied the odds, worked hard, and had faith. And behind every successful race horse is a team of people who care for the horse and treat him like a friend. Sometimes that friendship is tested by sickness, as in the case of Paynter. Other times, horses are not racing material, but they still hold a place in our hearts. For me, “Benergy,” my name sake, is that horse. He was the first horse I met, and I was thrilled that my dad honored me by combining my first name and the energy that he says I have. Horse racing taught me to pay attention to details and to have a big heart. It does not matter if you win the race, just that you try. And sometimes, when you are really lucky, hard work and faith result in the creation of a legend.