If you love horses and understand the bond that occurs between you and your horse...or if you desire to have that bond, you will love this book. I almost gave it four stars because, in my estimation, only one thing was missing; there are very few pictures in this book. Why do we not see more of what the book is telling us.; the winding miles of fence at Meadow Farm or Claiborne, Secretariat at play, at work, the faces of the people the author speaks about, etc? (If, by chance, they are located in the back of the book (I am reading the Kindle version and this review comes before the acknowledgements, etc. If there are pictures in the back, then please forgive me) I'm just sad about not being able to enjoy some of those photos of which the author speaks.
This has whetted my appetite to read more about Secretariat (which I thought I knew already but so many more to learn) This books pulled a lot of emotion from me and I appreciated the author's desire to not only tell a story of Secretariat but of the unknown, seldom celebrated story of a man almost lost to the pages of time, Eddie Sweat...Secretariat's groom during the glory years. What a beautiful picture which has been painted by Mr. Scanlan of that man who loved "his" horse. Mr. Scanlan is a horse owner also and he states his desire to become a better horseman because of what he learned about the devotion of Mr. "Shorty" Sweat to "the Horse God Built."
I was 18 the year Secretariat won the Triple Crown; I would be graduating HS in a few weeks. Too busy with my own horse in the way of any horse-crazy girl who lives and breathes the equine, I did not follow Thoroughbred racing though I could tell you, loving all things HORSE, the Triple Crown winners and the year they won. I owned a quarter horse named Barzal Bravo ("Bozo" for short) with thoroughbred racing blood making up half his pedigree. Helping my horse-centered world along, my family lived in the same equestrian subdivision as several of the Los Alamitos Race Course trainers and their "lay off" horses. I was often at those early morning workouts at the track with my horsey girlfriends; ethereal moments about which the author writes. My bedroom walls were covered with the daily race results from Los AL. Because I did not have access to much money on my own and most of what I did earn went to support my own horse's upkeep, I did not buy magazines or books to read and thus knew very littleabout this new "Big Red"...plus, I was a Man O' War purist in my heart. However, everyone had heard of Secretariat and I became a believer after watching him win the Derby and Preakness. As the day of the Belmont arrived, my parents had taken us camping. I only agreed to go if my dad made sure we had a working TV to watch the race. As Secretariat rounded the last turn pulling away, my emotions spilled out. As an equine artist, I appreciate the beauty of the horse and this was a thing of beauty...and history. I knew I was watching it being made right in front of me! I screamed! I jumped up in the air. Then as Big Red swept toward the finish line with the cameras struggling to even show the other horses in the race, I laid on the floor and wept like a baby.
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