Look Back: Alphabet Soup Prevails in Classic

Georgia Ridder refused to move. It wasn’t her knee. It wasn’t her ribs, nor any of the other nagging concessions to physical flamboyance made by a lady of her particular age. No, Georgia Ridder was being a racetracker through and through, and she was not about to budge one inch toward the winner’s circle until the photo sign came down.

“Especially not after that horrible experience at Santa Anita,” Ridder said later, referring to the day at Santa Anita Park when her elegant roan, Alphabet Soup, was disqualified after winning his prep for the Breeders’ Cup Classic (G1) as the owner stood helplessly by, embarrassed at her presumption of victory.

And so Ridder held her ground, while all around her the more than 40,000 who attended the first Canadian Breeders’ Cup squirmed and murmured over what they had just seen. The $4-million Classic on Oct. 26 was supposed to have been a valedictory march—the final, glorious brush stroke in the masterpiece known as Cigar. Instead, the fans got both less and more than they bargained for: a struggling Cigar, fighting tooth and claw to retain his title, who in the end was just another handsome head on the wire at the finish of the most competitive Classic in Breeders’ Cup history.

Then, when the photo sign blinked out and the number “10” glimmered brightly in the long, golden shadows of the Canadian sunset, the fairy tale had suddenly come true. It was Alphabet Soup’s white nose with the black trim on the line just ahead of Louis Quatorze, with Cigar third on the outside, beaten a head, and local hero Mt. Sassafras down on the rail, tenacious to the end. An improbable dream had turned into reality. Georgia Ridder, the gentile, self-effacing first lady of California racing, had won her greatest prize.

“I’m floating,” Ridder said as she leaned on her cane and worked her way through the crowd. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.”

Neither could Allen Paulson. The sight of Cigar losing his second straight heartbreaker in pursuit of an unprecedented second Classic was painful for the owner of the world’s most famous horse. The difference between first and third was not just $1.6 million. It was the difference between the “old” Cigar—who would have reached down and found a way to win—and this present version of the champion—a lion king whose step had slowed just enough to lend his rivals a sniff of hope.

“I guess maybe he’s trying to tell us something,” Paulson said as he lingered in his box, overlooking both the Woodbine finish line and the winner’s circle ceremony below. “I guess maybe it’s time to go home.”

Still, without Cigar the 1996 Breeders’ Cup Classic would have been as anonymous as a bar league softball game. It was Cigar and all the rest, which is exactly why Dave Hofmans came to town with Alphabet Soup and his stablemate, Dramatic Gold.

“Other than Cigar, I thought the toughest horses would be Skip Away and Wekiva Springs,” said Hofmans, who at age 53 was reaching the pinnacle of his profession. “When they didn’t enter, there was just one horse to beat. And even though that one horse was Cigar, you’ve got to take a shot if your horses are right.”

With Alphabet Soup and Dramatic Gold, Hofmans had two Classic starters with recent form on the definite rise. But despite Dramatic Gold’s sharp score in the Buick Meadowlands Cup (G1), he had already been pounded twice by Cigar. Hofmans loved the way the big son of Slew o’ Gold trained at Woodbine—where he won the Molson Million (G2) in 1994—but he was realistic about his chances. Alphabet Soup, on the other hand, had been touting Hofmans with his focus and his training intensity. Six days in chilly Canada had provided the final spark.

“I just want to see him within a length of someone somewhere late,” Hofmans said as he left the paddock before the Classic. “Because this little horse will absolutely lay his body down.”

By the post time for the Classic, it was apparent that the sandy main track was being kind to horses who were able to find the inside lanes for their hardest running. With a field of 13 in the big race, however, such strategy was wishful thinking at best, desperation at worst. The luck of the draw put the speed horses—Alphabet Soup, Louis Quatorze and Atticus—in outside posts, while Cigar had post seven between Dramatic Gold and Mahogany Hall, winner of the Whitney Handicap (G1).

The others in North America’s richest event included Will’s Way, winner of the Travers Stakes (G1); Dare and Go, still living off his upset of Cigar in the Pacific Classic (G1); Editor’s Note, winner of the Belmont Stakes (G1); Formal Gold, second in the Meadowlands Cup; Taiki Blizzard from Japan; and Tamayaz from Sheikh Mohammed’s Godolphin Stable. Yanks Music, the 3-year-old filly entered against the boys in the Classic, was scratched earlier in the day because of an injured ankle.

Cigar was bet down to 65 cents on the dollar—both Canadian and American—while the entry of Dare and Go and Kentucky Cup Classic (G2) winner Atticus shaded Will’s Way for distant second choice. Louis Quatorze, despite his Preakness Stakes (G1) credentials, was 18-1. Alphabet Soup was 19-1, and no amount of local money could keep Mt. Sassafras from being the longest price in the field, even though all five of his lifetime wins had come over the course.

Yet the enthusiastic crowd only had eyes for Cigar. It was already widely assumed this would be his last race, even though Paulson continued to leave the door open to schemes for a mega-event down the line. Fans were wise to assume this would be the last time they would see their hero under silks. And so, as Cigar emerged from the tunnel leading from the clubhouse turn to the paddock path and Bill Mott reached up to sweep the dark blue blanket from Cigar’s flanks, there were oohs and aahs from the people lining the path and perched on the balconies. They applauded and cheered as the dying sun bounced off the deep health of Cigar’s rich bay coat and played with the grays and blacks of his entertaining tail. Cigar twitched an ear at the distant sound of a landing jet and flexed his nostrils—there was back bacon broiling nearby—then continued his last walk to the locker room for the 33rd, and likely the last, race of his amazing life.

A vulnerable champion

Mott wished he could have enjoyed the moment more. But for the meticulous trainer, there were a few loose strands to Cigar’s preparation that left the trainer uneasy and biting hard on a single, pacifying cigarette just before leaving the barn. The image of Cigar falling a head short of catching Skip Away at the end of the Jockey Club Gold Cup (G1) on Oct. 5 was still burned in Mott’s mind. Ten days later, Cigar’s chronically troubled right front hoof required its third serious patching of the long campaign from blacksmith Jim Bayes. Cigar arrived in Canada on the Wednesday before the Classic, then merely strolled through the paddock and around the rim of the track Thursday, which put him on edge for a Friday morning gallop that was a sight to see.

“If I had it to do over again, I probably would have done more with him that first day,” Mott said the morning of the Classic. “He was a little fresh Friday, but then he was better, more quiet today. It isn’t second guessing. It’s just that you like to have everything perfect. Of course, I’ve thought everything’s been perfect before—like in the Pacific Classic and the Gold Cup—and he’s gotten beat.”

Still, the mere presence of Cigar on the teeming Woodbine backstretch was enough to make the heart beat faster. Photographers followed him in a huge cluster as he dragged Mott to the track each morning under exercise rider Gerard Guenther. The backstretch fence was lined as he galloped by Friday over a freshly harrowed track while the rest of the horses were held back at the gap just long enough to let him pass.

“Good thing, too,” Bayes cracked. “Otherwise we might have had a black-type work.”

Cigar was feeling the raw energy of the Canadian climate, but so were his opponents. Jim Bond spent Classic week gushing over the glowing condition of Will’s Way, who had bounced back from a cough following his disappointing run in the Super Derby (G1) to be training like a monster.

“Let’s face it,” said Bond, who finished second to Cigar with L’Carriere in the 1995 Classic. “Cigar is vulnerable. He’s had a long, tough year. It took L’Carriere a long time to recover from running in Dubai, and Cigar really didn’t take that much time off. I think it may finally be catching up with him.”

Hofmans, whose large public stable is stocked primarily by Ridder and the Golden Eagle Farm of John and Betty Mabee, had planned for Alphabet Soup to be at his best on Breeders’ Cup Day since the previous March, when the 5-year-old son of Cozzene finished up the track in the Santa Anita Handicap (G1). After three straight stakes wins in late 1995 and early ‘96, it was an uncharacteristic spike in Alphabet Soup’s graph—perhaps a bridge too far. Hofmans and Ridder agreed that “Alphy” needed a couple months of R&R at Ridder’s Hidden Springs Ranch in the clean, light air of Mountain Center, Calif., some 4,500 feet above sea level.

He came down from the mountain a tiger, beating Lit de Justice in the Pat O’Brien Handicap (G3) at Del Mar. Hofmans’ blueprint led Alphabet Soup through a mile race and then a mile and one-eighth, arriving at the Classic with a horse at a rare physical peak.

“He can’t wait to get out and train every morning,” said Juan Reynoso, Hofman’s traveling foreman, as he admired Alphy walking the shedrow. “Then, when he’s all clean and we put him away, he starts rolling around and I’ve got to clean him off again.” That’s what they get for buying a white car.

Alphabet Soup, though slight in stature, was easy to spot in post 12 as the field broke from the gate in the mile and a quarter chute of the Woodbine stretch. Pushing off the traction bar beneath the gate, his distinctive black-smudged knees churning into gear, Alphabet Soup placed himself immediately in the thick of things at the front of the field. Chris McCarron, wearing Ridder’s cerise and green colors, was able to clock the opposition from either side and settle in behind the pacesetters Atticus and Louis Quatorze as they entered the first turn.

Jerry Bailey wanted to be there, too, with Cigar. But Cigar did not leave the gate with the same burst of enthusiasm that struck such terror into the ‘95 Breeders’ Cup field. This time, he was on the wrong lead, swamped from both sides, and, amazingly, behind both Dare and Go and Tamayaz as the field went past the stands the first time. Bailey tried hard to hold his ground between horses on a sharp first turn and emerged onto the backstretch running with Dare and Go. Tamayaz, and Dramatic Gold and behind Atticus, Louis Quatorze, Alphabet Soup, and Mt. Sassafras.

Behind them there were small dramas that ended up having no impact on the outcome, although it was a sad sight to see Yukio Okabe fighting hard to hold a straight line with the heavy-headed Taiki Blizzard, Japan’s fond hope. The son of Seattle Slew seemed reluctant every step of the way and wreaked havoc with Editor’s Note, who tried to dispose of the invader and gain some ground but could never get by.

“My colt’s pretty temperamental anyway,” Gary Stevens said of the Belmont winner. “Something like that happens and you can forget about him for the day.”

Up front, though, a real horse race was beginning to unfold. Atticus had taken the pack through a half in :46 2/5, acting every bit the rabbit for entry mate Dare and Go. Unfortunately, Dare and Go dropped back early, suffering from what was later discovered to be an injured knee. That left Louis Quatorze and Mt. Sassafras to pounce on a weakened Atticus by the time he had gone three-quarters in 1:10 4/5.

After shedding Tamayaz, Dare and Go, and Dramatic Gold, Cigar joined the front group entering the far turn. McCarron was making his move on Alphabet Soup, just outside of Louis Quatorze. And, to his credit, Atticus was still in the picture as the field reached the mile mark in 1:35 2/5. Both Mott and Bailey envisioned their champion taking command on that turn and leaving the others to give chase. But rather than a burst of energy to seize the day, Cigar let his momentum build slowly and merely kept pace. As a result, Bailey found himself helplessly five horses wide and fanning wider.

Unless you were Allen Paulson or Bill Mott, the five-horse spread with less than a quarter of a mile to run for a pot of $4 million was a thrilling sight. Four wide himself, his eyes rimmed with what looked like equine mascara, Alphabet Soup pinned back his ears and dug in for the fight of his life.

“Look at him,” Hofmans smiled later while watching a replay. “See that look he gets on his face, how he lays those ears back and sets his jaw.”

He wasn’t alone. Louis Quatorze was at his Preakness finest, moving gracefully as if the best was yet to come. Then there was Mickey Walls, who had slipped inside Atticus with Mt. Sassafras. For a moment the locals must have frozen with delight at the sight of the Canadian-bred son of Mt. Livermore leading the Breeders’ Cup Classic, late in the game, at odds of 101-1.

“Sure I was aware of Cigar,” McCarron said. “And he might have had the edge, being on the outside and in a position to apply the most pressure. I think we were all aware of Mt. Sassafras cutting the corner. But as far as I was concerned, I had the horse with the most heart.”

Bailey had paid the price of keeping Cigar in the clear, but now, with an eighth of a mile to run, Cigar was on strong ground with a clean, straight run to the finish and the opposition pinned inside him. The old Cigar would have run them down and pulled away with ease. But then, the old Cigar would have already won the race.

“Quite frankly, I knew I had Cigar beat at the eighth pole,” McCarron said. “Cigar got to me but could not gain ground from there. I turned my concern to ‘Louie’ and Pat. They weren’t going away.”

Neither was Mt. Sassafras, although it was apparent, with a half-furlong to run, the race belonged to the invaders. Alphabet Soup thrust his head in front of Mt. Sassafras, while Louis Quatorze wedged between them. On the outside, Cigar would not disappear, although he was not making headway. Fifty yards from the wire Alphabet Soup appeared to be a clear winner. Then, as if thirsting for more to do, he eased up and let the tenacious Louis Quatorze back into the picture. Although clearly the winner, Alphabet Soup’s margin was only a nose—the closest 1-2 margin since Ferdinand beat Alysheba in 1987. And with Cigar just a head back in third and Mt. Sassafras a half-length behind the champ, the race produced the first Classic win with four horses in the final frame. Their collaboration gave Alphabet Soup a winning time of 2:01, a Woodbine track record.

Formal Gold made steady progress past tired horses to finish fifth, four lengths behind Mt. Sassafras. Tamayaz was next, followed by Will’s Way, Atticus, Dramatic Gold, Mahogany Hall, and Dare and Go. Editor’s Note and Taiki Blizzard were merely galloped under the line.

At the finish, McCarron knew that he won despite the narrow margin. Any doubts would have been erased, however, by Frankie Dettori on Tamayaz, who caught up to McCarron and slapped him joyously on the back. In the face of Cigar’s defeat, McCarron declined any display of whip-waving, arm-pumping emotion. Rather, he simply let Alphabet Soup gallop to the turn while patting him gratefully on the neck.