Yesterday’s impressive victory by Big Brown in the Derby was overshadowed by the loss of an amazing filly. I had my eye on Eight Belles through the pre-race coverage and post parade. Every time she appeared on camera, I couldn’t help noticing the gleam in her eyes, the way she held her head high and alert, with her ears forward, seeming to look for the track. For the race, for the speed, for the thrill. Big Brown no doubt is a gorgeous animal, my kind of Thoroughbred. Deep chest, muscular bum, big and rangy and handsome. He’s also a hell of a runner. But Eight Belles - that look in her eyes made me stop and take note. Of all twenty horses in yesterday’s field, she was the one who seemed to carry the pure love of running in her every fiber. And she was the only one - the only one - who came close to Big Brown. For a few seconds on the backstretch, she looked like she was making up ground on him. Just a hint of motion to close the gap. Then she seemed to stall - not fade back, not falter - just seemed to match his stride, but 5 lengths back as they flew across the wire.

Then she was down, on her side. Then in mercy she was gone.

A spirit like that should not end so.