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Weighing In By Evan Shipman Nashua Complimented Before Grey Lag Champ Now a Majestic, Commanding Type Atkinsons Ride Contributed Great Deal JAMAICA, L. I., N. Y-, May 7.— Last Saturdays featured Grey Lag Handicap, won by a head by Nashua, topweight of the field, in a furious finish -with Find and Fisherman, while all of the others wound up within a couple of lengths of this trio, represented the American turf at its yery best. Visiting horsemen from England and France were on hand to watch the running of this nine-furlong stakes and we were happily able to show them a type of contest that has no exact equivalent in foreign racing, but that has been developed here as an answer to purely local condi tions. The winner, our "Big Horse," has never looked better throughout his brilliant career than when the veteran Mr. Fitz, dean of our trainers, saddled him for this stern test, and it is almost superfluous to tell you that he ran to his looks, aided by as fine a ride as the expert Ted Atkinson has ever shown us, a ride, by the way, that we seriously doubt could have been equaled by -any jockey now active. Nashua, carrying 128, or one pound, over scale for the month of May, was conceding 10 pounds to Find and eight to Fisherman, as well as* weight in varying amounts, ranging up to 19 pounds to Cavort, to all the others in the small but select field of seven. So nicely had handicapper Jimmy Kilroe arranged his assignments that, at one stage or another of the thrilling race, each and every starter could have flattered his backers that he could take it all. Thus, you see, that all departments — the quality of our native thoroughbred, the skill of our trainers and riders, and the shrewd perception of our official handicapping — - contributed to the success of the occasion. Big Son of Nasrullah Tills the Eye . Sincere compliments were paid Mr. Fitz on all sides when the stunning Nashua made his appearance under the shed on the walking ring. Truly, this four-year-old son of Nasrullah — Segula, by Johnstown, is a veritable king among horses, while his regal comportment is as commanding as the faultless physique. It is more than a manner of speech to say that "Nashua fills the eye." Sound as the day he was foaled, Nashua can stand as a breeders or trainers ideal, and, conformation aside, we want to go out of our way to stress this colts temperamental qualities, the exquisite nervous balance that we consider as important to-his success in competition as the more tangible characteristics evident for all to see. Again, we revert to our original position m claiming a peculiarly American aspect here, this time for the horse as well as for the medium exhibiting him. to such .rare advantage; for all Nashua was sired by the imported stallion, Nasrullah, the native heritage from his maternal family has stamped him, and he can be taken as a model for our breeders most enlightened ambitions. Now. lets look at the running of this Grey Lag. From the starting gate to the sharp clubhouse turn at Jamaica is only a brief run. Impasse and Find, as had been expected, took the, lead, while Nashua, who had stumbled as the doors opened but quickly recovered, assumed a forward position racing a little wide. The gray French colt, Le Beau Prince, leaving from the outside stall, was even wider, running directly -to the rear of Nashua as they took the hair-pin bend. It can be said right away that Willie Boland, aboard the foreigner, had no choice, the only alternative being to check his mount to a trailing position, tactics not at all suitable for the free-running gray. On the back-stretch and around the far turn, Find held a slight advantage, but Nashua was right with him, both under a snug hold. Behind them. Joe Jones was looming a powerful threat, skimming the rail for Conn McCreary, while Le Beau Prince, never at any time closer to the rail than out in third horses position, surged on the leaders as they negotiated the kite-shaped tracks third stretch. All this time, the pace had been" somewhat erratic— : 24% for a loafing initial quarter followed by~ another two panels in :23J£. The third quarter, with all the fireworks yet to come, was clocked in :24 flat. It was now high time to stop the skirmishing and parrying, and bring Up the big guns. Five Horses in a Torrid D.uel to the Wire From the five-sixteenths pole clear home to the wire, all stops were pulled. This was the race, and you better believe us that it was torrid. Find and Nashua, running lapped, were joined now by Le Beau Prince, while little Fisherman, inconspicuous up to now, was making a powerful move out in the middle of the track. Meanwhile, Joe Jones, still saving all possible ground, was pinched for racing- room, giving the false impression that he had shot his bolt. Bending into the home- stretch, Find, Nashua and Le Beau Prince could have been covered by one blanket, and as they straightened away for the real drive, Le Beau Prince, still not under extreme pressure, actually was in front, a neck to the good of Nashua, who held about that same margin over the stubborn -Find. It was now the moment for Boland to play his hole card, but we were soon to see that the French colt, for all his noble attempt, was not yet up to a contest of this severity. By the ; furlong pole, Le Beau Prince — not quitting, mind you — was clearly dominated by the others, the issue circumscribed between Find at the rail, Nashua running Continued «n ftrjt Thriy-NitM | I WEIGHING iN 1 By EVAN SHIPMAN Continued from Page Four straight and rtue and. nod for nod with the game Vanderbilt gelding, and the looming Fisherman, the latter somewhat belated perhaps but making up for lost time like a catboat scudding to harbor before a wet wind. How much is an impression worth? As this long, desperate drive evolved, one spectator at least was convinced that, just as Boland had called "upon his reserve-shortly after passing the quarter pole, so Nashua, on the contrary, was being allowed a really frightening interval before his rider made the final commitment. Chilly to a degree, Atkinson waited, waited and then waited. Find and Fisherman [hemmed the big colt in; he was between them, and never has the Discovery gelding or the brave little son of Phalanx looked better than in this crisis.. And still Atkinson waited. And then* almost in the shadow of the wire, Ted swung his whip, and the bat stung. Nashua, his ears pinned flat, drove to a heads advantage, and not an instant too soon. They may have called Woolf "The Iceman," but the blood in Atkinsons veins on Saturday must have approached absolute zero.
