The Man, The Horse and The Goat

The man, the horse and the goat.

I hope you enjoy the following story. I am glad to share it with you, and dedicate this to the memory of Ralph, his horse, and his goat.

It was early summer in upstate N.Y. The year, 1976, the place, Buffalo Raceway in Hamburg N.Y. The racetrack had just opened its harness racing season. To those who are not familiar with this particular sport let me give you a bit of insight.

This is the only sport where the horse goes before the cart. Harness racing has its roots in early rural America. Farmers and business men alike would hook their horses to the lightest wagons available, wager a few dollars, and trot down the country roads at full speed.

In this sport if the horse should break into a gallop, they are disqualified. They must maintain either a trotting or pacing gait. The breed of horse is called a Standardbred. They are a wonderful horse. Average height is 15 to 16 hands at the shoulder, 4 inches to a hand. They are both broad and barrel chested, have great stamina and the speed of a sprinter. 

The feeling of this  magnificent animal moving at full speed is awesome. Their mane and tail taken back by the wind, muscles driving this powerful animal forward.  The horse is controlled through the leather lines attached to a bit in the horses mouth passing through two rings on the harness, then to the hands of his driver. This is harness racing.

I was a driver and trainer of Harness horses. For the most part I ran a public stable. Owners of race horses would approach me to train and drive their stock. Training the horses was done in early morning, usually finishing up by noon. Cleaning equipment, racking down the area, and bedding down the horses. This was usually accomplished by 2 P.M. Getting equipment and horses ready to race on the evening card began about 5 P.M this depending on what race your horse, or horses were entered.

It was a late Thursday afternoon, I was talking to one of my groom who was getting a horse, and his equipment ready to race on the evening race card. A man approached my barn area, appeared to be in his late seventies, unshaven, wearing dirty, and tattered blue farmers over-alls, a sweat stained hat, and a large polka dotted handkerchief hung from his side pocket.

He approached and asked, “Are you Phil.” I replied, “Yes!” He introduced himself as Ralph, then ask if I would consider driving his horse in the evening card. I asked for the horses name, as I was quite familiar with most of the horses on the racetrack. 

Ralph replied, “Gingers Lucky Star is his name, but I call him Sunny.” I had never heard of the horse, so I asked, “Is he a trotter or pacer?”  Ralph said, “He’s a trotter.” Now for those who are not familiar with this type of horses, driving a trotter is much more difficult then a pacer. Its a natural gait, the horse having no straps binding their legs together in order to maintain a trotting gait. On the other hand, pacers wear hobbles to maintain a pacing gait.  

I replied to Ralph, “Sure, why not.”  I asked him to call the driver change into the Race Secretaries office, this in order to make it official for the records, and for the publics information.  Ralph said, “OK.” 

I asked him, “Do you have your race bike (Sulky) and harness? he said, “I do.”  So we walked over to his trailer to unload the horse and the equipment.  The horse trailer was old, having quite a bit of rust around the fenders and tail gate area, having seen plenty of winters in Buffalo.  Ralph went over, lowered the tail gait, and dropped it to the ground.

Much to my surprise out came a goat. He was white and gray, quite large for a goat, had an ugly gruff looking coat and beard, and two very sharp horns. I said to Ralph jokingly, “Not a very big horse you have there.” He laughed and said, “That’s billy, he belongs to Sunny (nickname for his horse.)”  Moments later, Gingers Lucky Star backed out from the trailer. He was a fine looking horse, narrow in the chest, but tall and rangy. He looked like a racehorse.

I had a few empty stalls, so I told my groom to bed a stall down for the horse and give him some water and hay.  I had to go over to the racing office to enter a few horses for the following weeks race card. As I entered the Presiding Judges office, the Judge came over to me and said, “Phil, I just received a call from Ralph, and he has put you down to drive his horse Ginger’s lucky Star, is that correct?” I replied, “Yes.”

His next few remarks took me by surprise. The judge asked if I knew anything about the horse.” I said, “No, never saw him race.”  He told me the horse had been bared from several tracks for causing some major wrecks on the racetrack. In other words he was a dangerous horse to drive.  Also, other drivers refused to race him, because they knew him.

Later I found out that Ralph had purchased the horse dirt cheap, brought him to his farm, and worked with him privately.  After a one years absence, Ralph brought the horse to the racetrack and qualified him in a non-betting race. In this the horse became qualified under New York State rules to race at a par-mutual (betting) track.

Upon hearing this upsetting news, I hurried back to the barn to ask Ralph a few questions. The news from the judge was not good. This looked like a risky venture on my part. Risky as in broken bones.

I went directly to where Ralph was, and asked, “Ralph, is your horse going to be safe to drive this evening?” He said, “Sure, ever since he became friends with Billy (the goat,) the horse has been fine.” There was something in Ralph’s voice that made me feel that he was right. Ralph was old school, and this gave me confidence in his word.

I said, “OK, if you say so, Oh, by the way let me look at your equipment.” I had a gut feeling that everything was not quite right with Ralph’s harness and Sulky.

Sure enough, I was right. His leather harness had a great deal of dry rot in the stitching, and buckle areas. His race bike looked as if it had been run over by a truck, then straightened out by hand. I asked “Ralph, would you mind if I used my equipment on your horse?”  He replied, “OK, if you like.”

What a relief that was, Wow and double wow. 

It was now time to go to the paddock. The drivers had to take a breath analyzer test, change into their racing outfit, and begin warm-ups on the horses. I went over to where Ralph was. He was sitting on a five gallon bucket tipped upside down, inches away from the horse.  The horse had his nose resting on Ralph’s head. 

I asked, “Are you ready to warm the horse up?” He replied, “Yes.” Ralph had put the harness and bridle on him, all I needed to do was hook the horse to the Sulky. As I went out on the track Ginger was a handful. He was excited, and ready to go.  I kept the horse as quite as I could for two miles, turned him on the track, and went a mile in 2 minutes and 40 seconds.

His response to my lines was good. He had a soft mouth, also I noticed the horse did not like it when I pulled hard on the lines. He was tender in the mouth, meaning he would respond to the bit well. This was good information to take into a race.

I went back into the paddock with the horse, Ralph took the driving lines and walked him back to the stall.  He sponged the horse down, gave him a sip of water, then threw an old torn and tattered red and black checkered blanket over him to keep the horse from cooling down to fast. Forty minutes later I gave the horse another warm up trip, this a little faster then the first.  Again the horse felt great, being much more relaxed this time around.

It was 50 minutes before the race was to be called to the track. Ralph took out that big old polka dotted handkerchief, wiped his brow, smiled, and said, “I think Sunny’s ready.” I had to admit, the horse did feel good, but his competition was rather stiff. Any horse who had not raced in over a year, would have a tough hill to climb. I replied, “I hope your right.” 

He nodded, picked up the bucket put it in front of the horse as he had done before, sat down and wiping his face again with that red polka dotted handkerchief. 

Finally the Paddock judge called the seventh race out to the track. Ralph pulled the blankets from the horse took him by the bit and led him forward. I took my driving lines in hand, hopped onto the seat and followed the number sixth horse to the track. Sonny was alert, his ears were going back an forth. When we went in front of the grand stands he was a bit unnerved by the crowd and bright lights.

I had drawn the 7 pole position. This is not a good position on a half mile race track. Ralph told me to give Sunny his head, as the starting gate left, and not to pull back on the lines until the horse settled in.  As we turned toward the gate, the words of the Presiding judge in his office came to mind about Ginger being a renegade horse. I said to myself, “here goes nothing,” took a deep breath, and said what I though could be my last words on earth, “Be merciful to me Lord.”

As the gate sprang, much to my surprise Ginger left rather sharply. I slid into third position, the favored horse in the race was out front. I was sitting in an ideal position. As we came to the half, a horse pulled from seventh position and began to move up. Not wanting to get boxed in (as in trapped) I would have to pull Sunny out sooner than I expected.  At the five eights pole I pulled the horse, moving up slowly to the lead horse.

Coming around the final turn, with an eighth of a mile to go, I came up to the nose of the horse who had been leading.  As we came around the last turn we went past the area where the people in the paddock were standing. I heard old Ralph yell, “Go Sunny go.” I whistled to the horse, waved my whip over his flank, and Sunny shifted into another gear. The horse won with ease, and in good time.

When Ralph was ready to load the horse on the trailer, the goat was wagging his little tail, and appeared to be smiling. Ralph waved as he pulled away, his old truck and trailer rattling as it went over the dirt road leading to the highway.

Ralph and Ginger’s debut was a success. As the summer passed, we had a total of nine races. Ginger won 7 of the nine, having moved into one of the top grades for trotters. Sunny was as well mannered a horse as any trainer would hope for. Ralph had done an amazing job with this out-cast.

Winter came, and went in upstate N.Y. Spring finally arrived. One morning, a man in his late forties, came over to me and asked, “Are you Phil?” I said, “Yes.” He asked me if I remembered Ralph, and Ginger.  I said to him, “Of course I do.” The man was Ralphs son.

He began to tell me of the events that had pasted over the winter months. Ralph had died of a heart attack. One month later, the horse, Gingers Lucky Star died, and a week later the goat died. I was shocked, and choked back tears. I had grown fond of Ralph, his horse and goat. I was looking forward to his return to the racetrack. With Ralph, it was not about money, it was a love he had developed for his two animals, they were like family.

Ralph’s son revealed to me the joy his father had every time the horse raced. He would go home put the horse and the goat away, go in the house have a glass of wine, and give everyone a blow by blow description of the race.

A man born in the late eighteen hundreds, a dirt farmer and old mule skinner. He knew what the formula for success was. His last days were joyous, as most likely were the horse and the goat. I missed old Ralph. I can still see him clearly in my mind with his red polka dotted handkerchief, old hat, and the nose of his horse resting on his head. 

I am telling you this story because the lonely old man, a rejected horse, and an old billy  goat began as loners and finished as winners.

This can also be the results if we team up with the Lord Jesus Christ and His Holy Spirit. We to can find the winners circle, reaping the rewards of Christ’s victory; and in this, we will find great joy and happiness in our Christian walk. As Ralph had patience, and understanding with his horse and goat, we also with patience and faith, can enter into the winners circle of life. The results may surprise even the worst of skeptics, this with a bit of trust and effort.

Phil LaSpino  www.seekfirstwisdom.com