This is the book Laura Hillenbrand read and loved as a child that inspired her award-winning biography, Seabiscuit: An American Legend. Ralph Moody's passion for horses stirs his readers to excitement as they follow the life and career of one of the most best Thoroughbreds to ever run. You might assume Seabiscuit's distinguished lineage meant he was born into a world of privilege, but you'd be wrong. Born May 23, 1933, the mud-colored grandson of Man o' War—arguably the finest racer in history—looked nothing like a champion. Seabiscuit inherited his mother's knobby knees, and had no special coloring to distinguish him. A colt named Granville emerged as the star of their class, while Seabiscuit lagged far behind. The renowned "Sunny Jim" Fitzsimmons was brought in to train Seabiscuit's class, but he couldn't see past the horse's awkwardness and lack of size to the potential within. Fitzsimmons wrote Seabiscuit off as too much like his stubborn father, Hard Tack; Fitzsimmons insisted on treating Seabiscuit with tough love, which did him no favors with the proud colt. Seabiscuit fought him at every turn, and the trainer responded by racing him more than advisable for a horse with weak lower legs. In his first two years Seabiscuit entered more races than Man o' War ran in his career, and the damage never entirely healed. Fitzsimmons wanted to sell the two-year-old, but no suitable offer was made until August 1936, after Seabiscuit impressively won the Mohawk Claiming Stakes. Seabiscuit was about to meet the three men who would define his career.
Charles Stewart Howard purchased the overworked three-year-old on the recommendation of Tom Smith, a gifted trainer who saw a champion's fire in Seabiscuit. Tom had traveled a long road from obscurity to prominence as a horse whisperer, so he understood Seabiscuit's angst. The horse's degenerative knees could give out at any time, but Tom applied every medical secret he knew to prevent that. He found the perfect lead pony for Seabiscuit, a palomino named Pumpkin; almost ten years old and no athletic specimen, Pumpkin was a pleasant fellow whose presence calmed Seabiscuit when he had to be transported long distance for races. Under Sunny Jim Fitzsimmons, Seabiscuit developed an array of nervous habits, but Pumpkin helped him relax and not expend unnecessary energy in the hours and days before a race. Seabiscuit's team was completed with the addition of Jack "Red" Pollard, an inexperienced jockey who fell into an easy rhythm with Seabiscuit right away. Charles Howard, Tom Smith, and Red Pollard would be Seabiscuit's "own-folks" for most of his career, and they were poised to take the racing world by storm.
Patience was required to mitigate the damage Fitzsimmons had inflicted on Seabiscuit. His knee and foreleg tendons were chronically inflamed, and only Tom Smith's therapeutic ministrations improved his condition. Red was instructed not to push Seabiscuit hard in races, but the headstrong horse won his fair share of purses, quickly earning back the $8,000 Charles Howard paid for him. He captured the Governor's Handicap, an illustrious race in Detroit; the Hendrie Handicap, which netted $2,010; and the Scarsdale Handicap, worth $5,570. This was his three-year-old season, in which superstar Thoroughbreds make their bid at winning the Triple Crown, but the early mishandling by Fitzsimmons meant such a run was out of the question. Seabiscuit would have to make his mark in less traditional ways, via a record of wins as eclectic as it was impressive.
Media interest in Man o' War's grandson grew as he entered his prime. Seabiscuit looked nothing like Man o' War's most famous son, War Admiral, a paragon of excellent breeding. But Seabiscuit—knobby, tender knees and all—reeled off win after win, long past when Fitzsimmons had figured his body would break down. Fans flocked to Seabiscuit as a sentimental favorite, a tenacious competitor who feared no one. He placed first in races from coast to coast, and in February 1937 Charles Howard and his wife set their sights on California's $100,000 Santa Anita Handicap, run at a multi-million-dollar track intended to lure all the best horses. Tom Smith and Red Pollard took this contest seriously, but at the final wire Rosemont crossed first, largely due to the subpar ride that Red gave Seabiscuit. The race had seemed theirs, the ultimate prize to bolster Seabiscuit's case as the best horse in the world, but the richest payout in racing history slipped away in the final furlongs. Seabiscuit was in his four-year-old season, retirement age for elite Thoroughbreds; would he have a realistic shot at the Santa Anita Handicap in 1938?
Howard, Smith, and Red continued racing Seabiscuit, though handicappers frequently saddled him with more extra weight than his own-folks considered fair. Regardless, Seabiscuit outpaced his vaunted rivals by eight lengths at the San Juan Capistrano Handicap. Tom Smith planned to take it easy for the rest of the year in anticipation of the Santa Anita Handicap, though to keep Seabiscuit sharp they ran him in a few high-stakes races. This backfired when he pulled up lame during the Butler Handicap, which he somehow still won. A badly gashed leg and sprained suspensory tendon cast his future in doubt, but Tom Smith's medical wizardry had him running again before year's end. Public interest was on the rise for a matchup with War Admiral, winner of the 1937 Triple Crown. Which horse was the world's greatest? The own-folks of both racers wanted the match, believing theirs to be the superior runner, but conditions would have to be perfect for the contest to occur. Heading into 1938, Seabiscuit's own-folks had another goal: the career winnings record, held by Sun Beau at $376,744. Eclipsing the mark appeared unlikely for an older horse with rickety knees, and previous attempts at the record ran up against a supposed jinx, but Howard, Smith, and Red saw no limit to what Seabiscuit could achieve. 1938 was going to be his year.
A debilitating injury to Red Pollard meant he couldn't ride Seabiscuit for a while, but Tom Smith handpicked Georgie Woolf to replace Red. The handicapper for the Santa Anita put Seabiscuit at a drastic weight disadvantage; the spirited horse would have blown past Stagehand in the final stretch otherwise, but instead came up short in what seemed likely to be his last chance at the $100,000 prize. Meanwhile, War Admiral was dominant in his four-year-old season, stoking public demand for a race versus Seabiscuit before the horses were too old. A special $100,000 stake was offered, enough to get Charles Howard and Samuel Riddle—War Admiral's owner—discussing specifics about making the event happen. But leg problems flared up for Seabiscuit, and Red Pollard suffered a gruesome broken leg that doctors declared the end of his career. Georgie Woolf would be Seabiscuit's jockey from now on, but how much longer would the horse's knees last? A face-off with War Admiral was arranged for the Massachusetts Handicap at Suffolk Downs, but mere hours ahead of the race Seabiscuit was withdrawn due to a bowed tendon in his foreleg. The race directors and 70,000 fans in the stands were outraged, but doctors examined the aging Thoroughbred and confirmed the injury. They called it career-ending, but these men didn't count on Tom Smith's healing touch or Seabiscuit's competitive fervor. The champ would not let it end like this.
Late in 1938 Seabiscuit returned to the track in reasonable health, ready to confront War Admiral on Samuel Riddle's terms. Seabiscuit easily won several prep events, proving that age and injury had not diminished his awesome speed. The race was scheduled for the Pimlico track in New York, and Red Pollard poured his heart into advising Georgie Woolf what he needed to do for Seabiscuit to triumph. A fast start was essential; War Admiral had demoralized many opponents by leaping out to a big lead, but if Seabiscuit left the Triple Crown winner in his wake at the start, he just might cross the finish line first. There was no last-minute scratch this time, and the two titans engaged in a battle of wills and athleticism never to be forgotten. Who would win the day and be lauded as the premier racer of his generation?
Pursuit of Sun Beau's winnings mark was a longshot in light of Seabiscuit's health, and a severe foreleg injury in February 1939 at a tuneup for the Santa Anita Handicap forced Charles Howard to retire him. Not even Tom Smith could repair a ruptured suspensory ligament. As Seabiscuit settled into retirement, permitted to indulge his hearty appetite without concern for weight gain, Red Pollard recuperated his own shattered leg enough to gingerly climb back into Seabiscuit's saddle, where he belonged. The two broken-down athletes enjoyed loping around the Howard ranch, and Red loved his equine partner more than ever. It surprised him to see Seabiscuit running a bit, using a new gait that protected his ruptured ligament. The champion horse became impatient with nothing to do but sire colts and fillies; his career was over, but Seabiscuit didn't seem to agree. When Tom Smith was brought in to analyze his new gait, he tentatively suggested it was possible for Seabiscuit to race without ruining his leg. Should he enter the Santa Anita Handicap one last time to accomplish his final two goals? The Sun Beau "jinx" had repeatedly struck Seabiscuit, but after shedding a hundred pounds of fat and placing well in a few minor races, he was in as good a position as he'd ever be to finish his career with a flourish. His jockey would be the one and only Red Pollard, risking his own leg by returning for the race. Their career together had dwindled to its last two minutes, the 1940 Santa Anita Handicap, where Seabiscuit would have his chance to go out on a high note. Could the plucky champion pull out one last win with everything on the line?
"The main issue in life is not the victory but the fight; the essential thing is not to have won but to have fought well."
—inscription on a medal awarded Seabiscuit, quoted on P. 172 of Come on, Seabiscuit
Seabiscuit's story is inspiring in too many ways to count, and Ralph Moody's telling of it is filled with emotion. What might have been had Sunny Jim Fitzsimmons correctly assessed the colt's value? Seabiscuit bore no resemblance to the brawny horses who usually dominated the sport, but heart counts for at least as much as physical attributes, and Seabiscuit didn't allow Fitzsimmons's mismanagement to derail his career. He took an unconventional route to stardom; Seabiscuit courted greatness on his own terms and couldn't be coerced into following anyone else's blueprint. It's easy for an unimposing physical specimen like Seabiscuit to be overlooked, a mistake even a veteran appraiser of talent like Fitzsimmons can make, but when you're discounted by people who don't believe in you, the faith of a single dissenter can change everything. Tom Smith salvaged Seabiscuit's career when he recognized the heart of a winner. "(Tom) became obsessed with a love and admiration for Thoroughbred race horses, and his greatest joy in life was to rebuild the ones that other men had discarded as hopeless." Anyone can ride the coattails of a superstar prophesied as such from birth, but to nurture the wounded spirit of a competitor ignored by everyone, to gamble all you have on them reaching the utmost heights, yields a richer reward. The world needs Seabiscuits to remind us that miracles happen, and it needs Tom Smiths to prevent those miracles from slipping through the cracks. We can all draw wisdom and encouragement from Seabiscuit's life.
In a discussion of the finest racehorses, few are mentioned on equal terms with Man o' War and Secretariat. Their dominance was otherworldly, as though they were a different species from their on-track rivals. If Seabiscuit isn't on their level, he's no more than a notch below, a champion whose crazy detours to immortality only boost him in the regard of racing fans and historians. It's difficult to conceive of any horse better in his prime. Come on, Seabiscuit is a book that sports enthusiasts as well as non-fans will enjoy, and Robert Riger's drawings splendidly capture the action, comparable to the work of beloved horse illustrators like Will James, Wesley Dennis, and Robert Lougheed. I almost feel as though I watched Seabiscuit race in person. I'd rate this Ralph Moody biography three and a half stars, and if you want a winsome introduction to the "Sport of Kings" for young readers, this is it. I'll always view Seabiscuit with special affection because of this book.