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    ‘Twas the night before Breeders’ Cup
    When all through the city,
    Not a creature was stirring,
    Not even Plum Pretty.

    The Downs were draped
    In purple and gold,
    The twin spires illuminated,
    Beautiful and bold.

    The jockeys were nestled
    All snug in their beds,
    While visions of victories
    Danced in their heads.

    Uncle Mo resting quietly,
    Stay Thirsty just down the hall,
    Envisioning glory and
    Good trips for all.

    When out on the track
    There arose such a clatter.
    Uncle Mo jumped to his feet
    To see what was the matter.

    Up to the doorway
    Mo flew without wait,
    Nuzzled the latch free
    And pushed open the gate.

    The newly installed lights
    Burned down a bright glow,
    Giving the luster of midday
    To the race track below.

    When what to Mo’s wondering
    Eyes should appear
    But a fully packed grandstand
    And a crowd full of cheer.

    They were standing and pointing
    At something far in the distance.
    Mo focused his gaze
    And could discern it in an instance.

    More rapid than eagles
    The horses they came,
    And the crowd yelled and cheered
    And called them by name—

    Go Wild Again, Proud Truth, and Skywalker!
    Now Ferdinand, Alysheba, and Sunday Silence!
    Come on Unbridled and Black Tie Affair!

    Go A.P. Indy, Arcangues, and Concern!
    Now Cigar, Alphabet Soup, and Skip Away!
    Come on Awesome Again and Cat Thief!

    Tiznow! Tiznow! Go Volponi!
    Now Pleasantly Perfect and Ghostzapper!
    Come on Saint Liam and Invasor!
    Go Curlin! Go Raven’s Pass!
    Now Zenyatta! Come on Blame!

    Uncle Mo watched in awe
    As the champions raced past,
    Never had he seen horses
    Move quite so fast.

    To the top of the stretch!
    To the finish they flew!
    The excitement and cheer,
    How quickly it grew!

    And then, as they each
    Crossed the wire,
    Flowers fell down
    To create each an attire.

    Blooming asters of purple
    And asters of yellow,
    A championship blanket
    For each winning fellow.

    And just as quickly as
    The champions had come,
    They’d all disappeared,
    Leaving Mo feeling numb.

    But Mo heard a faint call
    As he drudged through the muck,
    “Happy Breeders’ Cup to all
    And to all Good Luck!”

    Photo: Breeders' Cup

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    Jessie Oswald's picture

    About Jessie Oswald

    I'm a lifetime Louisville resident with a passion for horse racing. When I'm not working as a paralegal or taking care of my family, I follow Thoroughbred racing and love to share the excitement and beauty of the sport with anyone willing to learn!

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