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" f THE END OF A TURF ROMANCE I By SALVATOR I - 1 "If you want romance, read history." That famous bon mot, in so far as turf history is concerned, has never been so rarely exemplified as in the history of Phar Lap. When death ended it, so short a time ago, it ended also one of the most romantic episodes which the pages of turf lore will ever be called upon to chronicle. There is nothing wanting, from beginning to end, of all those elements which go to make up a great racing romance. Beginning nowhere; sold as a yearling for a bagatelle; running as a two-year-old unplaced in four out of five starts; winning his first campaign, less than a thousand dollars; blazing out the next one to become a champion, like the bolt of lightning which his name denoted in the exotic tongue whence it was derived; on up to the top of the ladder the next one, with the worlds applause following his footsteps; another season of similar dazzling achievement; then, with mew worlds to conquer, a long voyage to the upper side of the world, the gauntlet thrown down to it in its richest race for aged horses, a magnificent triumph in record time; when, standing poised upon the dizziest pinnacle of fame, the hero of two continents, with but a solitary exception the worlds greatest money-winning horse and the surpassing of that horse early in the summer apparently a certainty like a bolt of lightning comes the end! The pale horse with the skeleton rider overtakes the champion that nothing else can, and he is snuffed out of existence so suddenly that even yet the consternation caused by the event is world-wide. ROMANCE WITHOUT PARALLEL. No there has never before been anything approaching the romance of Phar Lap. In the annals of the turf not only in those of sport of any kind it cannot be equalled. It has no parallel. Sensationalism seemed from the beginning to have marked Phar Lap for its own. This was not only inherent throughout his career it received an electric emphasis by a constant succession of semi-incredible events. His management and training were in themselves mysterious and enigmatic to outsiders who observed them. Inside his entourage . pains seemed to be taken to accent and intensify the mystery. And in the true Edgar Wallace fashion, an attempt at murder the murder of the gelding himself was injected into the "strange, eventful history" of the phenomenon, under circumstances which never yet have been cleared up, leaving us to wonder where fact might have existed or hocus-pocus followed on. Everything, in short, was, it would seem, deliberately capitalized in the effort to throw about the son of Night Raid an atmosphere of mystery and marvel, with a success which, until the final smashing catastrophe, had never before been attained. It was only natural, therefore, that when the catastrophe eventuated, the sensation mongers should endeavor to pile imaginary horrors upon real ones and fill the air with fantastic and sinister inventions. And just how far they will carry, only the future will reveal. Generations hence, when the story of Phar Lap is retold for the purpose of thrilling turf followers yet unborn, it is not improbable that the narration will close with a significant shaking of heads and dark exchange of glances speaking more than words. AGUA CALIENTE RACE PHENOMENAL. After thoughtfully studying the case, however, the unexcited observer will find no basis for such clap-trap. It is unnecessary to intone "Poison!" in stage whispers, or dire hints of foul play. To many it will seem that Phar Lap died as he had lived that his passing was in effect a sacrifice to sensationalism and the desire to mystify, to astonish and to overreach; a desire which, always foolish, in the end overreached itself. Phar Lap ran a phenominal race in the Agua Caliente Handicap. Let it be granted that he beat nothing to brag of. Nevertheless, the manner in which he accomplished the feat was amazing that every competent witness invites in testifying. He won in record-breaking time under the topmost weight, and he did so without a preparation after having traveled thousands of miles into a strange land with an unfamiliar climate, over a track totally unlike anything that he had ever before negotiated. GREAT THOROUGHBRED SACRIFICED What killed Phar Lap.? There is only one logical cause to be assigned. It was the race he ran at Agua Caliente. Flesh and blood, as exemplified in even the greatest of horses, has its limitations. Phar La"p was called upon for an effort which he was capable of making but after making it he paid the price which Nature, most remorseless of creditors, invariably exacts. After he won, those American critics who had watched his preparation so-called for the race, heard the instructions given to his rider and saw how they were carried out, were "given the laugh" by the public for the opinions they had expressed; and, in the mysterious confines of the geldings entourage, that merriment undoubtedly was shared. The Yankees had been shown something new, which they could not understand, and were left dumb with chagrin and astonishment. But in the final sad analysis, it appears that the Yankee perhaps knew a thing or two, after all, which the Antipodean did not. And it is now rather certain that had he been preparing Phar Lap for the great race which put the capsheaf to his fame, and an end to his career, he would not have had a dead horse on the morrow.
