Million-Dollar Dash

As the grandstand crowd bellied up to the rail, the jockeys eased their mounts into the gate. The starter held them there for a moment; then they were off. Nine two-year-olds broke into the head of the stretch and pounded past the grandstand in a cavalry charge. So far, it was just like any other horse race. But instead of rounding the turn and racing up the backstretch, the horses slowed to a stop. Fans swarmed onto the track and filled the air with flying Stetsons.

In the time it took to read the previous paragraph, the world's richest horse race was over. The million-dollar quarter-mile All-American Futurity, run last week at Ruidoso Downs, N. Mex., was won in exactly 21.98 sec. As the ultimate sprint for quarter horses -cowboy mounts bred for brief bursts of speed, often by crossbreeding with thoroughbreds -the Futurity yielded an opulent purse of no less than $330,000 to the winner, a fat 58% more than the $209,600 first prize at the Kentucky Derby. Even the tenth horse, which was scratched, collected $27,000.

Bejeweled Blondes. The natural home of quarter-horse racing is Texas, where ranchers have long enjoyed pitting their fastest horses against the pride of their neighbors. But race-track betting is outlawed in Texas. As a result, the twin capitals of quarter-horse racing -and the site of the All-American Futurity for 17 years -are the adjoining towns of Ruidoso and Ruidoso Downs, located in the bone-dry Sacramento Mountains, across the state line from El Paso. Every Labor Day weekend the population of these sleepy communities soars from 5,000 to 35,000 as quarter-horse fanatics swarm in by Cadillac and Continental Mark IV, jam the local airstrip with private jets, and fill every hotel room within a radius of 70 miles. Experience has taught the owners of bars and nightspots to hire armed guards to prevent gun fights.

On race day a crowd of more than 15,000 pours into the small Ruidoso Downs track. In the exclusive Jockey Club, ranchers and oilmen accompanied by bejeweled blondes in cowboy boots unload fistfuls of $100 bills at the tote windows. Their bets, combined with those of the grandstand, bring the handle to $200,000.

Except for a $25,000 donation from the track, the rest of the million-dollar purse comes from eager horse owners who ante up nomination fees in the form of eight escalating, nonrefundable installments before the race. In January 1974 more than 1,000 owners started paying for last week's race by putting up $50 each to enter 1,200 quarter horses only a few months old. One hundred and ninety-four stuck it out through the $2,500 fee required to qualify last month for the final trials.

By race day, three of the original 1,200 horses were recognized favorites: Chick Called Sue, owned by Texas Trial Lawyer Aubrey Stokes; Rocket's Magic, belonging to Louisiana Fish Merchant Bill Thomas; and Bugs Alive, a filly bred by Ralph Shebester, owner of an Oklahoma oil rig repair company. In the starting gate, the three favorites were stationed side by side. Bugs Alive broke clean -a critically important advantage in so short a dash; Chick Called Sue stumbled badly; and Rocket's Magic quickly fell behind. Bugs Alive led all the way. "For the last 100 yards I just put my feet on the dashboard," laughed Jockey Jerry Burgess. Owner Shebester was more restrained. "The reason I'm pleased," he said, "is the honor and prestige that goes with winning this race." To say nothing of the first-place purse.

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