Eclipse Preview: The Verrazano Project

boomer

noun  [boom·er]

A person who expresses self-congratulation, in acknowledgement of one’s own superiority, rather than good fortune, via the conceited cry of “boom”, especially prevalent in the proletarian sections of horseracing. 

Booming is to aftertiming what Boris Johnson is to the Tories; it’s the lighter side of a dark force. But long before the racing boom of boomers, the word had various other meanings. Down Under, a boomer is a large, male kangaroo, as in the Christmas song Six White Boomers, recorded by a man who was last year voted in the top ten of most trusted Australians. A boomer can also refer to a nuclear submarine, someone born in the post-war era of prolific procreation, or a construction worker, particularly in bridge building, such as those lunching labourers perched high on a girder in that iconic black-and-white photo we’ve all seen.

That was taken in the ‘thirties, in New York, and if the same shot was snapped now you’d see, in the faint background, a bridge that was boomer-built three decades later, named in honour of the first European to enter New York Harbour back in 1524: Verrazzano.

We lost one of the z’s somewhere along the way, as it’s officially the Verrazano Bridge, but Verrazzano the adventurer would have traded a z for a more dignified death, because it wasn’t long after that his exploratory nose was bitten off, along with the rest of him, when he was eaten by cannibals in the olden days of Celebrity MasterChef when celebrities were the ingredients rather than the cooks.

A modern landmark and the starting point for the New York marathon, the Verrazano Bridge is in need of a structural revamp, and there’s a furore right now as to the way the agency intends to go about it, all because they’re looking to outsource, to China, for the necessary steel.

There are parallels between the bridge and the horse that shares its name. Spectacular: check. Suspense: check. Shrinks under certain conditions: check. Needed a major fix: check. Steeling work outsourced: check.

Aidan O’Brien is the man tasked with reinforcing Verrazano, and the piecemeal project is on schedule, with a detectable difference in the horse. His fleet normally come straight from the Coolmore showroom, all shiny and new and malleable, but O’Brien is a master of all trades and a jack of none, and he has a remarkable record of fine-tuning the engines of the handful of used vehicles allowed into the exclusive depot.

The high-profile examples, imported from all over the world, include Haradasun, Excellent Art, Starspangledbanner, Excelebration, So You Think and Declaration of War, all of whom either evolved or revolved into Group 1 winners upon checking into Ireland’s equine equivalent of The Ritz. Yes, despite what Australians would have you believe, especially Bart Cummings, So You Think was every bit as good in the Northern Hemisphere, and he was the latest of O’Brien’s five Coral-Eclipse winners, the first being Giant’s Causeway, the damsire of a certain Verrazano.

It was immediately after his rallying win in the Eclipse, the second of five straight Group 1s in 2000, that the metal sculptor began chiselling the mould of ‘The Iron Horse’ that would become the epithet of Giant’s Causeway. It’s ironic, and perhaps fate, that the very thing that Verrazano has lacked is the very thing that defined Giant’s Causeway in the same race, carrying the same colours, for the same trainer, and to think that specialist bit of iron is in his blood somewhere, as a direct descendent.

But the brain regulates the blood, and the heart is not the heart of the matter with Verrazano; the problem is more in his mind, or at least it was. Towards the end of his time in America, Verrazano was equally infamous as famous, all or nothing, and as the year went on he turned it in more times than he turned it on. As he was giving up on racing, connections were giving up on him, and Verrazano’s name appeared on the Ashford Stud stallion roster for 2014…until someone had the boom-laced idea to try him in Europe with Aidan O’Brien.

Two races in and it looks a wise decision, not only for the form achieved in a pair of Group 1s but also for the encouragingly un-Verrazano like way he’s gone about it. If it’s true that performance reflects personality, then the counselling sessions are working, as it’s goodbye highly-strung, short-fused bully and hello to the laid-back, pressure-responsive reincarnation of Verrazano.

At Royal Ascot, in the Queen Anne Stakes, Verrazano switched off almost too well, needing waking up mid-race, but promisingly the more was asked of him the more he found, running Toronado to less than a length. And that was only phase two.

Stage three of the Verrazano metamorphosis, on Saturday at Sandown, sees some different stimuli thrown into the mobilizing mix. Firstly the trip, stepping up from a mile, which might have been an issue while plugged into the American electrical current but, from what we’ve seen in Europe, the revamped Verrazano promises to relish let alone stay the extra distance, all part of his new training regime, O’Brien the mechanic having a special skill in increasing the miles-per-gallon rate as well as horsepower. Leading Light’s dam won the Queen Mary, don’t forget.

After two races on straight tracks, Verrazano will this time be racing in the comfortable slippers of familiarity by going around bends, and then there’s the not-so-small matter of a different jockey, no ordinary jockey, either. The best riders make a difference, more so on flawed horses, for which Verrazano still qualifies.

If you can’t beat them, join them, and so following on from Simon Rowlands’ excellent work of bringing the badge of the rogue back in vogue by demystifying the Timeform squiggle [Article available here], myself and @RacingMDWilly conducted our own research in an attempt to establish the top jockeys when it comes to convincing unconvincing horses to try their best. Needless to say, Ryan Moore is right up there as a proper persuader. Here’s the premier league:

They’re ranked in accordance with the first column, the run-to-form ratio, because running to form is exactly what squiggle horses don’t really like doing, making it the most meaningful barometer. The much-maligned Mickael Barzalona came out king of the coaxers, by some way, though the actual number of individual squigglers he’s ridden (10) is far fewer than some, especially George Baker, who’s the moral champion considering the amount of temperamental trash he’s had to take out onto the track. His 45% strike-rate is some achievement under the circumstances, but so too is Ryan Moore’s, who’s had more experience than you might think at dealing with tricky customers, and more success than most jockeys at motivating them to put their best foot forward.    

It’s not a deal-breaker, but having Ryan Moore aboard is a definite plus point for Verrazano, that and his own redevelopment proposing a lifetime best from him in the Coral-Eclipse, though even that may not be enough in what’s an upper-class family gathering at Sandown.

If Verrazano is the daddy, which he was at one point in America, albeit the difficult dad who likes to do his own thing, then the mum is The Fugue. The trophy wife who didn’t have the trophies she should, The Fugue put that right to an extent at Royal Ascot, but she’s high on maintenance and dependency, not wanting a drop of liquid these days. What makes it especially hard for the elders to let loose at this particular party is that there are so many excitable kids running around, and, as with most all-aged functions, the younger generation have it in them to take over. Some may not stay to the end (Night of Thunder), others are liable to mess around in funny hats (War Command and True Story), while there’s always one who turns up late if they turn up at all (Kingston Hill), but they’ll all make themselves very much seen and heard at some point, upsetting their elders.

‘I must say, I personally gave him a wide berth because I thought he was nuts,’ so said one of the technicians on Gangs of New York, speaking about Daniel Day-Lewis, who pushed the boundaries of getting into character, reportedly listening obsessively to Eminem songs to keep up his level of aggression and falling out spectacularly with co-stars Liam Neeson and Leonardo DiCaprio, the latter breaking his nose in a fight scene that spilled over into reality. But that was then, in America, and these days Day-Lewis spends most of his time in his luxury pad in Ireland, and that solace has channeled his talent to such a successful degree that he made history this year with a third Academy Award for Best Actor.

Verrazano gave off the same moody vibe by the end of his time in Todd Pletcher’s gang of New York, but moving to Ireland has likewise done something for him, and sooner or later the rewards and awards will come. The Eclipse may be a bridge too far for Verrazano, but if he makes a successful crossing then even the temperate Aidan O’Brien may allow himself a punch of the air and that four-letter word: boom.