“The horse that changed my life was the daughter of a Thoroughbred. In a way, so am I.
Coco - show name Loud and Clear - was a Thoroughbred / Welsh cross pony. She was 12. I was 3. She retired from a career that saw her medal at the National Horse Show in Madison Square Garden. I had been riding all of 18 months. She was as elegant as Coco Chanel. My little legs didn’t reach the end of my tiny custom saddle.
There’s an old saying in the horse world: “Made horse, green rider.” And that was us. I learned to ride on a pony who knew the ropes better than I did. She was on voice command, so when the judge in our early classes would ask us to go from the walk to the trot, Coco would do it and all I had to do was settle down and enjoy the ride.
I grew up seeing the world from between Coco’s ears. My family referred to her as my “other mother.” When I was about 6 and jumps entered the mix, I was walking the course before a class and worriedly told my human mom, “I can’t do this - these are all taller than me.” Mom said words that forever changed my brain, “You don’t have to - Coco does.” She was right. And Coco did every time.
She never dropped me at a jump. Her only fear was trash bags that blew up from inside those industrial sized bins.
This isn’t to say that I was simply a sack of potatoes on a well-trained pony.
The horsemanship skills I learned riding Coco were secondary to the life lessons that beautiful blazed dark bay taught me: trust and love, faith and fearlessness. She also showed me just how outright funny horses could be. Her favorite treat was strawberries, which she ate until her white muzzle turned as red as if she were wearing lipstick.
Coco was ultimately retired outright when I was 9, after she came down with a serious case of laminitis. She would live another 5 years as the barn’s unofficial greeter, walking increasingly gingerly but always up and about, often taking a tour of the barns at the Orange County Fairgrounds on her own. Despite the amount of pain she must have been in, she persevered every day.
I would go on to ride other horses and win plenty of ribbons, but no horse ever mattered near half as much as Coco.
Horseracing goes back generations in my family, so it didn’t really surprise anyone when I declared my love for - and desire to work in - the sport when I was 15 years old. Part of why Mom first put me on a horse when I was just 18 months old was so I would learn to love the animal more than the family interest in the gaming side of the only legally wager-on-able sport in the States. And that was a gift.
Like any of the lucky few who work in an industry they are in deep fan-ship with, the fun of horseracing is getting to see your athletic idols on a daily basis. There are so many that have meant so much to my career.
I watched Smarty Jones win my first in-person Kentucky Derby from the roof of Churchill Downs, then followed him up to Three Chimneys Farm upon his retirement to be his Tour Director (one of the most fun jobs I’ve ever had). Watching how brilliantly John Shirreffs trained Zenyatta was amazing (and made me realize it’s a job I could never do).
Then there’s Animal Kingdom: a horse who was so clearly telegraphing that he was about to romp in the Kentucky Derby, I learned to trust my gut despite the naysayers. There’s Sportswriter, who many know as a hard-knocking claimer on the New York circuit for years, but I remember for the day he broke his maiden on debut without Carlos Martin’s usual solid foundation of works (I dangerously singled him in the last leg of the Pick 4 and hit the bet for the first time).
I’ve also had a hand in buying talented runners: I’ll never forget Sky Diva rolling around the turn during the breeze show at the Calder sale (she was raw power in chestnut form), or the pride I had when Mani Bhavan captured the G1 Spinaway at Saratoga (I’d pushed to buy her despite her diminutive stature because I’d clocked her mama at Churchill and knew how good that mare could’ve been), or the joy I felt realizing Taxi Dancer had RNA’d at the Timonium sale and I was finally going to get my wish of owning a Not for Love filly (who went on to be stakes placed and has thrown some beautiful babies).
There are countless other equines who taught me lessons about the sport and the animal, but no horse will ever teach me more about myself and life than a little Thoroughbred / Welsh pony named Coco. That made horse made this formerly green rider into the person I am today.”
By Molly Jo Rosen, for Ontario Racing
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