For the love of BARBARO
The unexepected outpouring of affection and concern for Barbaro was based on his interminable will to live, his determination and the spirit he showed at the tack in his racing years. As we approach the second anniversary of his death we are excited to see his first full brother, Nicandor take to the track. Just as the world came out to wish the best for this horse with a heart so big he took us all in, we will cheer his brother on with just as much enthusiasm. Below is a writing by cowboy poet and philosopher Larry Palmer.
The unexepected outpouring of affection and concern for Barbaro was based on his interminable will to live, his determination and the spirit he showed at the tack in his racing years. As we approach the second anniversary of his death we are excited to see his first full brother, Nicandor take to the track. Just as the world came out to wish the best for this horse with a heart so big he took us all in, we will cheer his brother on with just as much enthusiasm. Below is a writing by cowboy poet and philosopher Larry Palmer.
Nicandor debut.
BARBARO
by Larry Palmer
“What’s the big deal?
Barbaro was just a horse”
This comment appeared in an article penned by a major sports writer at the L A Times. Barbaro was “just a horse” as the Milky Way is just a cluster of burning gas balls. Perhaps the saving grace in the cynical, hypocritical, world of the human is that we can and sometimes do recognize a miracle. Americans love a champion, human or animal (is there a difference?). We admire outstanding ability from dribbling a basket ball to running a mile in record time. There are many reasons why we all loved Barbaro and more reasons why we should have, if we didn’t.
To do anything super-well, better than anyone else, requires an accident to occur. There are many ingredients that go into producing a champion of any kind. Tiger Woods is a great example. To play golf at his whole new level one must first be born with a natural near perfect hand eye coordination and other athletic abilities. ‘An accident. Even in today’s scientific xxxx a champion cannot be genetically reproduced because of thing called ‘heart’. As rarely as this accident of birth occurs it is the easy part. Next there is the ability to intellectually understand the game, to know the mental aspects and to be able to apply them. Then finally is the endless practice which requires time, money and commitment. Then if no accidents happen. If the athlete is lucky and gets the opportunity sought by thousands and awarded to few he/she gets to hope all of the training and talent will come together at just the right moment for them to become a champion.
That all of this occurred in Barbaro is enough to honor him but it isn’t all. Our own hopes and dreams became rolled up into such a miracle as Barbaro perhaps allowing us to “sit onboard” him as he flew across the finish line, a winner like we all want to be. We watched him win the Kentucky Derby and cheered. The Triple Crown seemed to be assumable. Then at the moment when his greatest victory seemed within grasp a single mis-step swept it all away. Just one footstep out of the many thousands and it was over. Anyone seeing the race, even on video, that didn’t feel a sudden, painful knot in their stomach should see a therapist. Even then when it would have been acceptable and without ridicule to terminate his life he fought on though his leg was shattered in twenty-nine breaks. He endured countless surgeries that included screws, pins and casts. He tolerated all of the tortures like the champion he was. Even at the end it was not Barbaro who quit fighting; it was his owners that allowed him to go because they loved him too much to see the suffering continue. Through his spirit and courage that touched the world he likely gained more fame than if he had won the Triple Crown.
When we cry for Barbaro we are weeping for ourselves. Crying for all of the times we have fought. For the times we have won and for the times we did not. Barbaro, in his simple courage, demonstrates to us all that there is honor in persisting, in not giving up. It is that and so much more we mourn. BARBARO – just a horse? Not hardly. As long as we need a hero, and we all do, Barbaro will never die. His spirit will go on to wherever great horses go.
So, run Barbaro! Run like the wind! Carry with you our hopes and dreams. For just one moment let us share the wondrous, pure miracle of you. Run, Barbaro, as God meant for you to do! Run Barbaro wherever you are. LP
L Palmer on "Winning exacts a terrible price"
Eight Bells
by Larry Palmer
“What’s the big deal?
Barbaro was just a horse”
This comment appeared in an article penned by a major sports writer at the L A Times. Barbaro was “just a horse” as the Milky Way is just a cluster of burning gas balls. Perhaps the saving grace in the cynical, hypocritical, world of the human is that we can and sometimes do recognize a miracle. Americans love a champion, human or animal (is there a difference?). We admire outstanding ability from dribbling a basket ball to running a mile in record time. There are many reasons why we all loved Barbaro and more reasons why we should have, if we didn’t.
To do anything super-well, better than anyone else, requires an accident to occur. There are many ingredients that go into producing a champion of any kind. Tiger Woods is a great example. To play golf at his whole new level one must first be born with a natural near perfect hand eye coordination and other athletic abilities. ‘An accident. Even in today’s scientific xxxx a champion cannot be genetically reproduced because of thing called ‘heart’. As rarely as this accident of birth occurs it is the easy part. Next there is the ability to intellectually understand the game, to know the mental aspects and to be able to apply them. Then finally is the endless practice which requires time, money and commitment. Then if no accidents happen. If the athlete is lucky and gets the opportunity sought by thousands and awarded to few he/she gets to hope all of the training and talent will come together at just the right moment for them to become a champion.
That all of this occurred in Barbaro is enough to honor him but it isn’t all. Our own hopes and dreams became rolled up into such a miracle as Barbaro perhaps allowing us to “sit onboard” him as he flew across the finish line, a winner like we all want to be. We watched him win the Kentucky Derby and cheered. The Triple Crown seemed to be assumable. Then at the moment when his greatest victory seemed within grasp a single mis-step swept it all away. Just one footstep out of the many thousands and it was over. Anyone seeing the race, even on video, that didn’t feel a sudden, painful knot in their stomach should see a therapist. Even then when it would have been acceptable and without ridicule to terminate his life he fought on though his leg was shattered in twenty-nine breaks. He endured countless surgeries that included screws, pins and casts. He tolerated all of the tortures like the champion he was. Even at the end it was not Barbaro who quit fighting; it was his owners that allowed him to go because they loved him too much to see the suffering continue. Through his spirit and courage that touched the world he likely gained more fame than if he had won the Triple Crown.
When we cry for Barbaro we are weeping for ourselves. Crying for all of the times we have fought. For the times we have won and for the times we did not. Barbaro, in his simple courage, demonstrates to us all that there is honor in persisting, in not giving up. It is that and so much more we mourn. BARBARO – just a horse? Not hardly. As long as we need a hero, and we all do, Barbaro will never die. His spirit will go on to wherever great horses go.
So, run Barbaro! Run like the wind! Carry with you our hopes and dreams. For just one moment let us share the wondrous, pure miracle of you. Run, Barbaro, as God meant for you to do! Run Barbaro wherever you are. LP
L Palmer on "Winning exacts a terrible price"
Eight Bells
