SECRETARIAT & EDDIE
ROLLIN’ & GRINDING
Ed Sweat turns inward. He crushes out a cigarette.
“He’s in the back of the stall. He knows. He knows and he don’t want to to be bothered. He’s thinkin’ about it.” Excusing himself, he walks to the middle of the shed and turns on the spigot, and for the next hour sits cleaning the leather halters and lead shanks with soap and water.
It is four o’clock, and Sweat is working casually around the colt, who stands at ease, quietly.
At 4:07, Charlie Davis rides up on Billy Silver and reins him quickly to a stop. The Appaloosa gelding is no longer sore. He is standing still and waiting for Secretariat. Sweat has just fitted on the bridle. Now all is set.
From the crowd, then, there is a murmuring. “Here he comes,” someone says. Edward Sweat is leading Secretariat up the aisle of Barn 5, past the rows of stalls, and toward the doorway at the end. The colt’s head is down, he is moving relaxed. Ted McClain walks in front of him.
“Y’all are gonna have to step back from here now,” says Ted.
“It is 5:10, just a half hour to post time.
Leaving the shed, Secretariat’s head comes up, as if he wants to stop, but he advances next to Sweat, his eyes flicking and his neck and head turned slightly to the left, his ears not playing and his teeth chewing on the bit, rolling it with his tongue and grinding down on it. He looks almost predatory. As he turns out of the shed, Sham and Pancho Martin cross the road in front of him and head through the tunnel to the paddock. Sweat’s expression is stern. He says nothing to anyone, holding the bridle with his right hand. He is wearing his victory hat.
From
Secretariat
by
~William Nack
