Word: backstretcher
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...hardboots reckoned right. Rounding the first turn, Whirlaway, a notorious latefoot, was in eighth place. Dispose, the pride of Texas, was in front-with Porter's Cap and Our Boots close behind. In the middle of the backstretch, Whirly, still far behind, began to move up. Nearing the home turn, he was on the heels of the front runners. Could Arcaro keep him from bearing out? The crowd held its breath for a moment, then let go in a nervous yell. Whirlaway had shot through an opening, was tearing down the stretch like a tornado...
...flag's fall it was a two-horse race. Our Boots was ridden by little Conn McCreary, who is so small he looks like a pussycat on a horse. Puss McCreary acted like a wise old cat. Leading from the start, he eased Our Boots in the backstretch, let Whirlaway get in front. Then, rounding the home turn, Puss and Boots shot past Whirlaway, three, four, five, six lengths at the wire. Explained disappointed Kentuckians: Whirly won't run unless there is someone in front of him-he loses interest. "Don't count him out," they chirped...
During the first mile, Bimelech looked like a champion. He broke fast, caught up with Joseph Widener's fleet-footed Roman. Down the backstretch, he clung to Roman's heels. Coming around the far turn-where races are usually won or lost-Bradley's green & white silks flashed in front. Roman had faltered. It would be a breeze for Bimelech from...
...starters cleared the first jump, the second, the third. Then they began to tumble. At hair-raising Becher's Brook, Royal Danieli took the lead, kept it round the right-angle Canal Turn, over Valentine's Brook, down the backstretch, past the stands the first time around. At Becher's Brook, on the second circuit, he was still in front, with MacMoffat and James Neill's 50-to-1 shot Gold Arrow close behind. It looked as if the old Aintree jinx on favorites was not working...
...these thoughts flashed pell-mell through 75,000 minds, the thudding hoofs were coming closer. By the grandstand they flashed: Austin Taylor's Whichcee in front, Seabiscuit half a length behind. Rounding into the backstretch, the old trouper kept up with Whichcee's swift pace. Down the long stretch, silhouetted against the purple Sierra Madres, the Biscuit seemed glued to Whichcee's tail. Louder & louder the crowd roared as they seesawed coming into the homestretch-Seabiscuit nosing in front, then falling back, then in front again. Approaching the grandstands, Red Pollard flipped his whip and the Biscuit...