Seabiscuit Page #4

a phone next door.

Dad.

We'll call you.

Every couple of weeks,

we'll call you,

and we'll tell you

where we are.

No. We're just gonna

go home, all right?

You have a gift.

You have a gift.

l need to borrow some money.

All right.

l haven't been

to a dentist, and...

Well, l need to

borrow some money.

That's fine.

l don't know

when l can pay you back.

l mean, when we win.

When we win,

l can pay you back.

That is, if you

still want me to ride.

Of course l want you to ride.

How much do you need?

Ten dollars.

Here.

lt's fine.

Thank you.

l really appreciate it.

That's it, Pops.

We're okay now.

lt's all right, boy.

Yeah, we're okay.

Nothing to worry about.

All the time in the world,

boy. That's it, Pops.

Nice and easy.

Just like that, boy.

Just like that.

What do you think, boy?

You ready to go?

You and me.

Let's go, boy. Let's go.

Ha! Ha!

ln the end,

it wasn't the dams

or the roads

or the bridges or the parks.

Or the tunnels

or the thousands of

other public projects

that were built

in those years.

lt was more invisible

than that.

Men who were broken

only a year before

suddenly felt restored.

Men who'd been shattered

suddenly found their voice.

Well, l just think this horse

has a lot of heart.

He may have been down,

but he wasn't out.

He may have lost a few,

but he didn't

let it get to him.

l think we could all learn

a lick or two

from this little guy.

Oh, and by the way,

he doesn't know he's little.

He thinks he's the

biggest horse out there.

So you got big plans

for this little horse?

Oh, yeah. See, sometimes

when the little guy,

he doesn't know

he's a little guy,

he can do great big things.

Can we get a shot here?

See, this isn't

the finish line.

The future is the finish line,

and the Biscuit

is just the horse

to get us there.

"Just

the horse to get us there."

You certainly made a believer

out of me, Mr. Howard.

lt's time for this old tout

to eat some crow.

Four and 20 blackbirds,

to be exact, all baked up

in some humble pie,

and l'll take mine a la mode.

Oh. And one more thing,

Mr. Howard.

l just wanna say...

Thanks for the champagne.

Don't mention it.

Did you see the infield?

No, not yet.

Take a look. Your little horse

is selling out

the cheap seats.

Oh, my gosh.

Hey, what do you think

about all those folks

in the infield, Red?

That's who we're riding for,

folks with a quarter

in their pocket.

Red! Red! Red!

Red!

That's an awful lot of hoopla

for such a little horse!

"Though he be but little,

he is fierce."

What's that? What?

That's Shakespeare, boys.

That's Shakespeare.

Oh, Shakespeare.

Holy cow.

Look at that, Biscuit.

Look at that.

There you go. Oh, my God.

There he is!

Seabiscuit! Yeah!

That's for you, Pops.

That's for you.

That makes

six consecutive victories

for this little colt

from nowhere,

one shy of the record.

Why, he may be the biggest

sensation on four legs

since Hope and Crosby.

Yes, it's standing room only

every time this pint-size pony

slips on a saddle,

and if you can't afford

the quarter,

a comfy tree limb

will catch you a glimpse.

So what is the secret

of this rags-to-riches story?

l have it on good authority

they feed Seabiscuit

two pints of ice-cold beer

before every race.

Reporting from trackside

in an equine exclusive...

Oh, my gosh!

This is Tick-Tock McGlaughlin,

for Movietone News.

Who was that?

Morning.

Boy, what's this?

lt's beer.

From an admiring public.

lt's pretty good, too.

There's more in there.

Where's the horse?

Signing autographs.

He's what?

Yeah.

There you go, Max.

Let it dry for a minute

before you try to sell it.

Hey, Charles.

You think you can

break the record?

Oh, let's ask him.

Hey, Biscuit.

You gonna win one more?

You gonna break the record?

Hey, Charles.

What do you think finally

turned this horse around?

Well, l think we just

gave him a chance.

Sometimes all somebody needs

is a second chance.

l think there are a lot

of people out there know

just what l'm talking about.

You got that right.

Here, boys. Take some

horseshoes with you.

Right here, Charles.

Hey, thanks.

These are special.

Never run out of luck.

Yeah. Right.

There you go.

Sam! Where the hell

are my horseshoes?

You quit?

l can't work like this.

He's not a parade animal.

He's a racehorse.

Look, Tom, a little bit

of public relations...

l can't get him to be

a great horse if l can't get

the time to work with him.

What do you mean?

He is a great horse.

We don't know that yet.

He's won six stakes in a row.

Against who?

This.

This is a great horse.

First he smashed them

in the Kentucky Derby.

Then he crushed them

in the Preakness.

Then he destroyed all comers

in the Belmont

to snatch the Triple Crown.

At almost 18 hands,

he's as big as he is fast.

Eighteen hands?

They'd need two guys

to ride him.

Yeah, he's big.

Born of perfect breeding,

displaying perfect form,

boasting a perfect record,

the millionaire Mr. Riddle

may have finally created

the perfect horse.

Until next time,

this is Horace Halstedter

for Metrotone News.

What the hell does that mean,

anyway? Perfect. He's perfect.

What the hell does

"perfect" mean?

What?

You show me something

that's perfect, l'll show you

something that's not.

Look, he's obviously

the best horse in the East.

We're obviously

the best horse in the West.

l just think the country

deserves to see

which horse is better.

You may not be able to see it,

folks, but the gauntlet just

landed on my desk.

Are we talking about

a match race, Mr. Howard?

Whatever Mr. Riddle wants.

Match race, stakes race,

potato sack race.

Just 'cause we're littler

doesn't mean we're scared.

Right you are,

and out there in the

heartland of America,

every little guy knows

exactly what you mean.

You hear that, Mr. Riddle?

You have an appointment

with destiny, a date with...

Destiny.

Destiny. Yes, exactly.

So, destiny,

and his name is Seabiscuit.

Does Seabiscuit

stand a chance?

l'm glad they finally have

racing in California.

Do they use Western saddles

out there?

Look. Comparing these

two horses is ridiculous.

War Admiral

is a real racehorse

who's won every prestigious

race in America.

This little colt of theirs

is running out

on some cow track.

You know.

Yeah, if we responded

to every fledgling challenger

who wants to make

a name for themselves,

it wouldn't be fair to us.

But it wouldn't be fair

to them, either.

You wouldn't put

Jack Dempsey in the ring

with a middleweight.

Would you?

"Middleweight"?

l'll kill him.

l'll knock his

goddamn block off!

He's chicken!

l know. l know.

"Middleweight"? l mean...

We just have to

flush him out a little.

How?

Well, this is still

America. Right?

Yeah.

Cash.

$100,000?

The biggest purse

in American history.

l sure hope so.

You'd get every top

Eastern thoroughbred.

All of them.

You'd put this place

on the map.

They might have all that blue

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