Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-07-01
SLOANE TELLS HOW
HE JOLLIED" HORSES


er really understand why 1 was beating
them. had, of course, a natural tudg-
ment of pace, knew the game inside and
out, could get away from the post as well
as any of them, knew how to rate a horse
In the rear wait with him in front, un-
derstood the exact instant when to make
my run, was always aware what my horse
had left right down to an ounce, was pos
sessed of a pretty fair pair of hands, and,
of course, l invented that forward-ridng
seat, to which all most of my success
attributed. But the other Jockeys Of
my time had all of these requirements. too,
and, as for the forward style of riding
which invented, they Immediately adopt
ed that, too, and soon became as good at
1t as l was. Still l beat them out. l rode
against Jockeys who were older, more ex-
perienced and certainly had better heads,
not to speak of better horses under them
than l. Do you blame me, then, for at
tributing my success to something that
can't be explained? In all of the essentials
of Jockeyship l didn't have thing
number of the other riders of my time.
That's why I'm more than inclined to be-
lieve that a riders success is due to some
wholly invisible power of personality that
he has over horses during brief period
of his riding life-a power that departs
from him after a time and leaves him
stranded. without the 'knack' that the turf
writers write so much about in dilating
upon the successful Jockeys Characters
tics. / firmly believe that there's sort of
telepathy between horses and their riders.
10 prove tnlS look at now 1nrniteiy better
some great horses Will run for some riders
than they will for others In every attri-
butte of a Jockey the yellow boy Simms of
my time was just as good as l was. and yet
l could win with horses that he couldn't
do anything with at all
Used to "Jolly" His Horses.
Another thing, too. that I've never said
much about 1 always had a great way of
talking to a horse during a race. Before
taking the mount on any kind of a horse
always made it a point to go to his stall
and become acquainted with him and get
on chummy terms with him. and, when
possible, I'd give him an exercise gallop to
sort of let him get used to me- | always
jolied horse into believing that l thought
him the finest thing in the way of a
thoroughbred that ever stood on racing
how susceptible to fattery race horses are.
You needn't laugh; I actually mean it.
Well, riding far forward as l always did,
with my face pretty close to my horse S.
right ear, l would generally get to talking
to him around about the far turn. I'd say
things to EN- In cooling sort of way and
praise en- and tell EN- that they had
everything In the race skinned to death,
even when they were away behind and
going badly. and don't you think for
minute that these horses didn't have some
sort of understanding of what l was
saying to them. They'd prick back their
ears and listen to my jollying talk and
manys the one that I've seen dart for
ward and for his life after I'd staked
him to little bunch of pleasantries of this
sort.
II once won a perfectly ridiculous race
verify believe, solely by jollying a horse.
That was the autumn cup. at Sheepshead
bay, seven or eight years ago The au
tumn cup Is a race at two miles and a
quarter, and my horse in the race was
common selling platter willing but ordin-
AIRY little beast named George Boyd. for
get just how 1t happened that I'd allowed
myself to be booked to ride such an in
| ferior animal In big stake race. But the
| engagement was made for me by my man
| ager. and l stuck to 1t. although I sure felt
| some foolish when we went to the post and
realized what l was up against.
THE favorite In the race, and the horse
/ that seemed an almost certain winner to
| me- was one belonging to the Morrises-The
| Friar, a great long-distance performer of
| his day. Lttlefeld, no bad Jockey In his
| prime, rode The Friar. The other horses
| in the small field were all better than mine,
and l couldn't see even the small end of
| the purse when went to the post.
| But when Littlef1eld took The Friar, the
| top-weght, out In front to make the pace
| in that long distance race. / plucked up
heart 1t was a part of my business to
| take advantage of the mistakes of other
| Jockeys, and 1 knew that Littlefield was
| making a mistake with The Friar, riding
distinctions or no riding instructions. l
| felt dead sure that The Friar couldn't live
/
| when l the other horses trying to
keep step with The Friar. just traiIed. I
was fully hundred yards to the rear Of
| the procession at the end of the first mile
and a half, The Friar still running strong
| in front. and the others climbing right after
| him, and the pace swift one. Then I be-
gan to say things to my little bat-eared
platter, with my mouth close to his ear
Flattered the Old Horse
George, old pal I said to him around
on the near turn the second time around
| dye that bunch OF counterfeits out in
| front there kicking dust In our eyes-d'ye
see that phony, The Friar, In particular,
| four-hashing OUT yonder IN front? Well,
| those plugs are all a-going to come back
| to you and me. They're going TO quit.
| You've got all that crowd beat seven DIFF
ferent ways from the ace
Believe 1t or not, that George Boyd
| horse pinned his ears back the better to
| hear what was saying in the rush of the
| wind past US, and at the same time he
| began to lengthen his stride and to eat up
| that space between him and the trailers
| after The Friar.
Now you're showing something, I kept
| at him when we got to the back stretch
| the last time around. You're there with
| It, old boyr and i gave him a slap on the
1 haunch with my open hand-no whip. un-
| derstand-and uttered a crazy whoop-la or
two right in his ear. You're bird. boy.
You're all hawss. You're a-going some!
| That's the baby, the big stride for you
no chop-stioksl Wheel See EN- curling up
| out there in 'front.' Look at that lobster
The Friar chucking It. and the others fol-
/ lowing suit and all of 'em sneaking back
to us In bunchi Yee-ow! guess those
/ fellows out In frontll call you a selling
| platter now. win theyr
Now. what else could 1t have been ex-
cept that this horse understood what I
was saying to himf He had never run a
| race anything like 1t In his life. But he
i was overhauling those stake horses as II
they were tied. and down about in the
middle OF the stretch he had caught all OF
them except The Friar.