Last fall I did a clinic in Ballston Spa, New York, and while there, met the head starter from Saratoga Race Track. Bob Duncan was kind enough to introduce himself after lunch one day as I gathered my horse for the afternoon’s work. I sensed a passionate enthusiasm in Bob, and we had a short but pretty sophisticated discussion about horsemanship while I saddled my horse. Bob told me he was the head starter at Saratoga, and based on my knowledge at the time, I assumed that he had something to do with the starting gate.
Bob and I got to talk some more and I heard his story. I do hope he’ll forgive me if I get any of it sideways. Bob grew up as a second-generation New York Racing Association starter. His father was a starter, and Bob followed in his footsteps. One day, like many of us, Bob woke up and wondered why he was hurting horses. He gave it a lot of thought. Then he went looking for help. He found Pat Parelli and Monty Roberts and met up with them and listened, worked and asked questions.
Then he went back to his job on the track. He changed things at the starting gate. He trained his staff to do things in ways that would make things better for the horses. He became very respected for his effectiveness. He became the guy who hands out “gate cards” and decides which horses do the starting gate safely enough to race. He got called in on Kentucky Derby day and became a consultant to the NYRA. If anyone has a gate problem with a race horse, they call Bob.
I watched Bob and his crew work on a rainy, sloppy day in October at the Oklahoma Track, Saratoga’s training track. Bob and three other guys were on duty from 7:30 am to 10:00 am to be available to work with young Thoroughbreds at the starting gate. The trainer of each horse must specify to the exercise rider that they’re to visit the gate crew as part of that day’s training. Some do, some don’t. Some days are busy, some aren’t. Gate crews have one of the most dangerous jobs on the track.
I’d never been at the gate before at a track, much less witness to “morning exercise”. As we waited for Bob, my friend Frieda and I watched exercise riders cross a busy Saratoga city street sitting on young, well-fed Thoroughbred colts and fillies that didn’t stop or steer. I started thinking that my job is pretty tame. Some riders had their hands full, others slouched in the saddle on quiet youngsters.
Bob took us back to the gate and got out his clip board. On his board, he would record each horse’s name after it worked the gate, as well as what they did with it. He had pages and pages of records. A rider would ride up and one of the gate crew would hook a lead strap to the bit. Then they would ask the horse to stop, come forward, and back up. Then they might approach the gate. Many of the horses simply walked into the stall and then backed out and went on about their morning work. Others had the front gates opened calmly and walked out. No one broke at speed.
A couple of the horses were clearly troubled by the gate. Or maybe the gate was just part of their troubles. These horses were taken aside, and then they started at the end stall, a wider stall with no front gates on it. I was struck by how troubled these horses were. Steam poured off them, and they weren’t “working”. There was a lot of anxiety there for those horses. Their muscles were rigid, their eyes looked far away. They didn’t want to be there.
To be fair, I’ve seen that look before. In show horses, in trail horses and in backyard horses. The track has no corner on that look.
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