Beating the Champion

by: TGG

Age: 12

I tried to look behind me to see where all the noise was coming from but I had blinkers on. So all I could do was look forward onto the race track through the bars in front of me. There were horses all around me; all of them just like me and all of them ready to win.

Then it all happened; the siren, the helpers releasing the reigns and then the gates swung open. All of the horses leapt forward out onto the track and stretched for their first stride. All I did was gallop straight out and stay at the back. My legs were hitting the ground hard and it was getting quite painful stomping at high speed. Then I remembered that I had a jockey and he had started to hit me with the whip. I felt like freezing on the spot and bucking until I saw him on the floor. But the crowd was still cheering the horse at the front, screaming its name and waving yellow and red tickets. I then almost screamed in anger, I knew the name.

Jacked To Farre.

I was racing against my brother.

I was not going to let him win, not ever.

I couldn’t bear it; he was not going to win. I was younger than him but I had more soul than him; he was a winning machine. I had soul and my soul was screaming at me to win. So I did what I had to do. I stretched my legs flat out and pulled my ears flat back onto my head. The horses at the front were already going around the corner by now so I had a bit of catching up to do. My jockey pulled at my mane to stop him from falling off from my sudden surge of speed. I still pounded on and I over took a horse who was lagging but now but I was still fresh and fast.

Sweat streamed down my neck and from my ears. I had never gone this fast before and the air whipping past my face was refreshing in the long run. I was catching up with the leader, my brother. He was slowing down after realising he was ahead of the whole pack. But I was about to be on his tail and he would regret ever slowing down. I pounded ahead of the pack swiping my feet down to the ground and coming closer to him. I swallowed the ground as I came side by side to him. Then it started. Everyone in the stands stopped cheering his name and just watched in awe as I paced him exactly.

Both of us were on the final straight flicking our feet out in perfect harmony. Both of our heads were parallel and both of us were going to win. But only one horse could win and it would be me if I was choosing. But we ran on.

Then he swerved and fell.

I raced towards the finish line; unaware of what had just happened to the horse which I still thought was just behind me. I was I front of everyone and I pulled up as soon as I was across the finish line and looked behind me. My brother was limping towards the finish line at a fast canter. We had been so far away from the pack that he still had time to get second place. He had desperation in his face and he knew he had just lost the race.

But he wasn’t going to get nowhere. I looked at him and noticed that he was slagging just in front of the pack. He reached the finish line and then stopped just over the line. He couldn’t stand on his leg any longer; the vet sprinted over to him and the jockey jumped off his back. I was taken into the winner’s paddock with my brother and I wore the red rose sash. But I would never forget the day I beat my brother. I beat the future world champion racer when he was a 4 year old.