I was not planning to be in Louisville, Kentucky, this weekend. The Kentucky Derby, as it is every year for me, was supposed to be another chapter of a thrilling sports weekend: my New York Rangers hopefully playing in the second round of the NHL playoffs, the biggest professional fight of this century, and the Jets and Giants energizing their rosters at the NFL Draft.
But Tencendur, a thoroughbred born and raised on my family’s farm in upstate New York, has dramatically stormed past every other event and placed them far in the rear view – in early April, he qualified for the Kentucky Derby.
My dad, Phil Birsh, has owned and bred racehorses for most of my life, but in a quiet way, mostly concentrating on mares and fillies that he succeeds with from time to time at the racetracks of New York state. The Derby was always a far-off spectacle for the kind of super-powered two- to three-year-olds (male) that were outside my dad’s niche.
The first sign that something extraordinary was happening came at Tencendur’s first and so far only outright win, in January at Aqueduct in New York City with others who had yet to come in first. For the majority of the race, he found himself in the middle of the pack, somewhat boxed in near the rail. But he and jockey Manny Franco found a slight opening once they rounded the final turn.
He’s a big horse, and his power seemed to suddenly surge. He shifted to his right (which revealed an instinct for what to do in the situation), and he and Manny bolted toward the front like he was shot out of a cannon. He went on to finish first, “breaking his maiden”, and making us all very proud – and very intrigued.
His next few races left something to be desired, as he finished fourth and fifth in two fairly prominent stakes races: the Withers and Gotham. He showed his talent but also his immaturity.
Away from the races, he is as gentle as a friendly pet dog, and when he was weaned from his mother, Still Secret, he cried and sulked like nothing anyone on the farm had ever seen. Until his performance began to prove otherwise, none of us suspected that a fiery potential champion was living in our barn. Even his mighty name, Tencendur, from the emperor Charlemagne’s war horse, was beginning to seem a bit ironic.
But no matter the finish, we kept seeing promise in every race that led up to the Wood Memorial, a pre-Derby qualifying event and a high point of the calendar. Watching right near the rail, where the race both began and ended, we saw first-hand what Tencendur can do.
For the first half of the race he was toward the front, helping set the pace. And amazingly, our big, loveable lug began leading, breaking away from the pack. But once he saw no one around him, he again showed some timidity, slowing down as if he felt out of place leading by so much.
The wonderful horse Frosted, also there for the 2015 Derby, beat us out, overtaking Tencendur and winning by two lengths. But the second-place finish was enough to qualify for a trip to Louisville, which is where we are right now.
Horse racing is one of the oldest sporting traditions in this country, and I have seen its reach and impact in simply explaining our involvement to my friends and co-workers. The look of excitement, shock and awe in their eyes when I mention we are going to be part of this tradition is something I will never forget. The look in my father’s eyes when I saw him for the first time after he officially entered Tencendur in the race is a sight I will cherish until I die.
We are in the Kentucky Derby, and only a select few have gotten to say that in this country’s history.
While I stood next to the biggest baseball bat in the world (at the Louisville Slugger Museum & Factory), what my family is about to experience began to sink in. With every passing minute, a feeling grows in my abdomen, a mixture of excitement, nerves, and uncontrollable anticipation. I have to remind myself that I’m not going to be the one on the track, and I should probably calm down.
But why calm down leading up to a moment that could be once in a lifetime? The entire Tencendur family could be on the brink of history, and it is oh so close. What is most thrilling is that no matter the odds attached to his name, Tencendur has a chance to excel in the most exciting two minutes in sports.
Maybe that has to do with the nerves. It will technically last just two minutes, and all of his and the training staff’s hard work will be tried and tested in that short time. But for me and the entire Tencendur family, I feel these two minutes will last a lifetime.
