Head and head they came to the mile.
There wasn’t a short conceded putt between them. It was a question now of the horse that had the heart.
Seabiscuit had lost his two-length margin.
His velvet had been shot away.
He was on his own where all races are won down the stretch. He had come to the great kingdom of all sport–the kingdom of the heart.
The Admiral had shown his reserve speed.
From two lengths away he was now on even terms.
But as they passed the mile post with three-sixteenths left–the vital test–the stretch that always tells the story–where 40,000 looked for the fleet War Admiral to move away–there was another story.
Seabiscuit was still hanging on. Seabiscuit hadn’t quit. With barely more than a final furlong left, the hard-way son of Hard Tack must have said to the Admiral– “Now, lets start running.
Let’s see who is the better horse.”
Read the rest of Grantland Rice’s terrific Baltimore Sun write-up, here…
“Never let anyone else tell you that you’re done…” — David Goodyear