I can remember the image like it was yesterday. And why not? I saw it enough times. The handsome bay colt, his regally arched neck so low you could swear he was looking between his legs. And those strides: smooth and effortless, always reaching out for more ground. Before the term “in the zone” became popular, Alysheba was in the zone every day
of his racing life. When he moved, he was sheer poetry, like a Richard
Stone Reeves painting come to life. When he broke off into a gallop and
began arching that neck he captured the essence of the Thoroughbred in
motion in all its beauty and grandeur.