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The Lowell (Ma) Sun
Paul Daley
December 4, 1998

     I was reminded Wednesday that on this date in 1970, December 2nd, 28 short years ago, Charles Englehard's Nijinsky II, first winner of the English Triple Crown in 35 years and one of the greatest thoroughbreds of any generation, was elected Britain's Horse of the Year by 38 of the 40 journalists on the Selection Committee for the Racecourse Associations.

     He was spirited. He was fragile. He was king. I think he was my friend. Here is my story:

     The tax man robbed us on April 15, 1992. For each of us who claim an emotional investment in the Sport of Kings, a portion of our 25-year inheritance was snatched away at 7:45 a.m. that day at Claiborne Farm in Paris, Ky. Age and infirmities had taken too many deductions from the portfolio of Nijinsky II, the most famous son of Northern Dancer.

     The date June 26, 1991 remains freeze-framed in my mind. Passing through the stone pillars of Claiborne, my mission was to meet Easy Goer. But my lasting impression will always be of a newfound friend - Nijinsky II. Stallion manager Wayne Campbell showed the way to the apex of the hill where Nijinsky's paddock overlooked the Claiborne cemetery. The 16.2-hands-high bay horse with the three white stockings and white diamond between kind eyes surveyed the graves of Secretariat, Swale, Riva Ridge, Round Table, Gallant Fox, Nasrullah, and Sir Galahad as we approached.

     Upon spotting his visitors, his ears pricked and the champion racehorse and sire made his way toward us. It was a difficult journey. His decided limp sprang from a hind right ankle three times the size of a healthy horse's. As Nijinsky came within sniffl ing distance, his grey whiskers showed all his 24 years. The flies surrounding his majestic head showed little respect for his 11 wins in 13 starts and his English Triple Crown in 1970, or his success at stud, with 141 stakes winners, three fewer than his father. But those dark, clear eyes were riveting and hypnotic.

     Campbell sensed the visitor's thoughts. "Sometimes when you get to talking to him in his stall or paddock, it's kind of like talking to a friend," he said. "You can tell him a story and he'll listen to you. He loves the attention."

     Despite his poor health, Campbell pointed out that Nijinsky had not slowed in the breeding shed, servicing 36 mares in 1991 (He added 25 more in 1992 before his death). "I've seen his ankle twice this size," Campbell said. "We go day-to-day with him. Last year (1990) we came close to putting him down. We had his coffin ready for him."

     "He got so he couldn't get up and down in August. He's already foundered in his front feet. He did that in 1980. Then he had another setback in 1984, an infection of the lymph nodes. But he looks good for his age."

     "You notice it when he's having a bad day," Campbell said with a sigh. "He'll lay around a lot and you see him walking around, favoring his right hind leg. He's walking pretty good today. About three weeks ago, he was having problems getting around. I hate to see him out with the flies the way they are, but it's better for Nijinsky to be outside. He does better here than back at the barn."

     Just then, Nijinsky placed his head in the crook of my arm, nuzzling my side ever so gently. it was almost as if Nijinsky was trying to stir the memories of that long-passed era of 1969-70.

     I remember Charles Englehard dispatching Irish trainer Vincent O'Brien to Windfields Farm in Ontario, Canada to buy a son of Ribot and instead returning to Ireland $84,000 poorer with Nijinsky II.

     I remember a young Nijinsky refusing to eat oats. He was used to munching on nuts. I remember the bay refusing to leave his box in O'Brien's yard to train, and creating such a fuss once out on the grounds.

     He hated a man on his back. He hated cantering. He hated most everything. But once he accepted routine, I mostly remember his tremendous acceleration from powerful hind quarters, a kick you could ask for in the sixth or 12th furlong of a race.

     Undefeated as a two-year-old, Nijinsky could not be stopped by colic before the Epsom Derby nor ringworm before the St. Leger, the last of the Triple Crown races. Nijinsky became the first horse since Bahram in 1935 to win the English Triple Cown.

     But 11 consecutive victories exacted a physical price. He was a tired horse when narrowly beaten in the 1970 Arc de Triomphe and Champion Stakes. Still, Nijinsky earned $677,118 in his day, a European record.

     Translated into today's dollars, he would have won more than $3 million. Horses such as Alysheba, John Henry, Sunday Silence, Easy Goer, Cigar, and Skip Away are ahead of Nijinsky solely because of longevity, bonuses, or the Breeders' Cup and Dubai purses. Nijinsky II was a gamer, both on the track and in the shed.

     Once again, Nijinsky nuzzled me, bringing me back from the reverie. "It's so hard when a stallion you've been close to dies," Campbell reflected. "It's like losing one of your best friends. If something happened to this old fella, it would probably break all our hearts, too, just like Secretariat. We all love him to death."

     Yes, to death and beyond. Nijinsky finally used that coffin, traveling that last furlong over the hill. No more ankle. No more paddock. No more flies.