Liz Lundberg
Liz Lundberg is a jockey who is currently riding at Mountaineer Park and we contacted her for an interview and here is a great long interview with her. Sit back and enjoy her interview.
Liz hits the wire in front at Thistledown
FOTH: Where were you born and where did you grow up?
LL: I was born in Manhattan at Mt Sinai Hospital, on Dec. 23, 1958. I lived in the Bronx 'till I was nine. We moved to Philadelphia and I lived there 'till I graduated, and since then I've lived all over. One thing I've always loved about the horse business is that there are few boundaries you cannot cross. As long as you can wield a brush or sit in a saddle, you can go anywhere and learn about anything. My dad was a teacher and he worked at a private school. It wasn't so long ago, but at the time he made 9,000 a year in the Bronx working at Fieldston School, and then 8,500 working at Germantown Friends School. We all got the wealthy man's education for free. I didn't finish college right away, but I'm proud to say that when I did I paid for it all. We had very little money but the best that two very resourceful & intelligent parents can bring to their four kids (two boys, two girls.) Mom & dad insisted to me that horses were for rich people. I needed to stay away from them because they were not going to make me secure in life. They were looking out for my best interests, to their credit, but I think dreams have the strongest influence on some kids, me included in that group. And you can make a very good living in the horse business, they just didn't know it. I didn't get very many opportunities to ride, although my wealthy private school friends had lessons, and/or went to horse shows and/or had their own horses. When I reached the age where you experience EVERYTHING full blast, (thirteen to seventeen) I realized that the only suitable persona for a girl who wore only blue jeans, with no makeup or fancy clothes was either horse girl or hippie. Sports were well funded in my school but I was a bit of a loner and they were not a consuming passion for me. I was not from the same social strata that most of the girls in my high school were, and I failed to create strong bonds among my teammates. We didn't have the money for horses. So what else? I began withdrawing and giving up on my schoolwork. When my parents realized I was feeling hopeless and was filled with self-hate, a lot of damage had already been done. (Among a lot of worse things, I failed Latin in eighth grade, which I had taken with the hope of graduating early because it offered extra credit prior to freshman year.) But they saved my life by helping me get back on track through horsemanship school. I have something very important to say about this: If you want your kid to be a doctor and your kid wants to be a Baptist minister, send your kid to Baptist ministry school. He might be the greatest Baptist minister in the world. (He might change the course of history, as Martin Luther did by creating Protestantism.) Or he might later decide on his own he'd rather be a doctor instead To all parents: It cost more to resist the ocean, so ride the waves God sends you, 'cuz the biggest thrills are ahead. Support is the greatest guidance there is.
FOTH: Do you have any brothers or sisters? Are you close with your parents?
LL: I have two older brothers. They both live in Vermont. Tim is the closest to me, at two years older, and Chris is four years older. Tim works in a machine shop where they clean huge industrial machines, re-lubricate the parts, replace the worn out ones and send them back to their homes by train. His avocation is high velocity heavy metal Rock & Roll. He's been playing guitar since he was ten and is quite good at it. Our family has some talented musicians, though no famous ones. Chris has been from Singapore to Germany to India teaching folks how to program their computers to create circuit boards or something. He's like white-collar working class and knows it, and I don't think he's real happy about it, but he's smart enough to get by, and has a great wife named Louise who he waited till he was forty-one or two to discover. I'm glad he waited. I love my Brothers. They are 80% of the reason I wound up a jock on account of the survival skills I had to learn in order to function as a viable member of the family. For seven years I was the only girl and that as far as they were concerned, there was no room for girls. I am older now but that tomboyishness is here to stay. As much as I adore men, I'm not very feminine until I'm behind the walls of my abode. My sister, Melissa, is my mother's compensation for having to put up with a genderless tomboy for many years. Melissa was the first to get Married and the only one to give my parents grandchildren. She had to endure every character killing torture I laid on her, seven years younger than I, poor helpless thing. She is an exceptionally strong and stable personality, and even though I was the worst most unthankful and ungracious sister a littlest daughter could have, if I needed her now she'd reach as far as she could to help me (though she would draw a line if her own kids were compromised, as I would expect her to.) She is a class act. Mom & dad were horrified at my being a jockey, because it's so dangerous. But now that I've been doing it for some time, they enjoy it. They love my racetrack stories, my triumphs and toils. The bottom line about them is that they have never stopped growing. I think that's the most important thing education does for people. My mom used to go off her rocker when us kids took would wrong turns; now she is simply there to help us steer around them. She is the most nonjudgmental person I know. For example, if I got plastered, drove into a lake with my neighbor's Mazerati, after shooting an ex- boyfriend in public while screaming how bad he deserved it (and just say it happened to be some shady character known for selling crack and pimping women) and made the newspapers from here to Puerto Rico, She'd probably say, when I called her, 'well, I really don't know what to say sweetie. I'm so sad for you. I'm really so sorry. I'm so sad that this happened. Do you want to talk about it?' She's all emotional support. Don't take her actions wrong; she'd never supply my bail or make excuses to the press. She'd just say, 'my daughter has committed some great wrongdoing against the laws of Society. We will pray that she does the right thing from now on.' How's that for a mom? She's religious. A very, VERY ENLIGHTENED religious person. She'd say 'I cannot hold your hand while you're in the chair, sweetie, but I'll be watching and praying for you.' As sad as I am that you did what you did, I will love you forever in my memory.' We were raised with high moral and ethical standards. They expect me to take responsibility for myself and my actions, no excuses. My Dad taught us that if you can read a book you can do anything on earth. That's how I learned how to ride for years. I read all about it. I read about tack, Stabling, feeding, grooming, showing, diseases, lameness-heck, with all of the Latin I learned from Veterinary Notes for Horse Owners, By M. Horace Hayes, FRCVS, I should have been able to pass Latin in Eighth grade, but I hooked too many Latin classes, and didn't do my homework. My dad found the best locations to live, made the tables we ate at and the beds we slept in. After he retired from teaching he built his own solar and wind powered house in western NY State. He gave me the uninhibited desire to try anything, which got me as far as I've gotten. He's a DUDE & A HALF, my dad.
FOTH: What sort of kid were you growing up? Did you know you want to be a jockey when you were younger?
LL: I remember our location at 5618 Mosholu Ave in the Bronx. It was right up the street from Van Cortlandt Park, where the horse and pony rides were. One year, when I was eight, I got my wish of a single horseback-riding lesson, which cost eight dollars. I was six or seven so that was probably 1964, '65. It was good, and I learned about posting, which was cool cuz to that point I had not read much about Riding, and didn't know what posting was. But the drawback was that the coach never let go of his pony rope. I could never go around, not even once in the whole half hour, by myself. The coach kept saying to me 'see, you don't know how to ride, and the horse knows it. The horse knows it.' It angered me, but I'm well aware now of the fact that horses don't just carry you around in a respectable fashion. If you don't control them, they A) Reach for available grass, B) Run around or buck until you fall off, C) Stand in one place until you give up trying to make them go (a favorite even w/some racehorses) or take you back to the barn (sometimes in a great hurry) I thought if the coach would just let me go, I'd go off into the sunset. The other thing I remember was that it was December, and there was snow on the ground. It was cold. I hate cold now but I never even noticed it then. The following years I opted for six consecutive pony rides, cuz in those days they just strapped you into a western saddle with some latigo, smacked the pony in the ass, and he would trot through a circular course bounded by post & rail fence on either side. You had a choice of fast or slow, and I never chose slow from the time I was actually permitted a choice. After that I never sat on a true HORSE and LEARNED until I was twelve, and we went to a summer camp where they had horses. My dad was Program Director. At the end of the eight-week session, I was awarded the most improved award from the horseback riding coaches. I still have a picture of me jumping a fence w/ a retired steeplechaser named Red. (It's about a foot high, the fence!) Once, in about 1964, (I was six) I saw horse races on TV from Belmont, I think. I saw the twelve horse prancing in the post parade and picked him to win. Amazing what sticks in the mind & heart, isn't it? I really wanted to do that. He did win, and I thought that was a sign, even back then. I really wanted to do that, and I've never forgotten that day. I don't know why they had races on TV because why would they waste precious airtime projecting to peoples' homes. Of course, racing was way more popular in those days, so maybe it was some races folks really wanted to see. My Grandpa loved the horse races. He used to go from time to time, but he never took me of course cuz I was so little, and anyway I was a girl. He died at age 70, in 1969, and the older I get the sadder I grieve about this, cuz he of all people would have understood the lure of the racetrack. I have officially made him my Guardian angel, cuz I should have lost my life a few times (as many of us riders know is true for ourselves). So in that fashion I get to keep him with me. I pray that everyone gets to love their relatives as much as I do, or if not, that they find someone to look up to that can guide them down a path that will sustain them if they live longer than they expect to. (The point there is that people live short lives if they don't have a script for living long ones. Another memory I have that never fades is that of writing to ALL of the Horse Associations whose addresses I found in the back of a book called Saddle Up! by Charles E. Ball. One of two or three who sent me something that was the obvious result of an individual taking the time to respond was the Jockey Club. It was a packet containing some clippings from the Blood Horse, including a photo & bio of the well-known Mare Drumtop, one of Tom Fool, A leaflet describing the three Arab influences, and an article called Information for Apprentice riders, which made me burn to be a part of Racing. Even now I think it's pretty amazing that they sent me that abstract without considering my obvious female status. The year was 1970; perhaps two years after Diane Crump broke the barrier? (open for correction here). Even my nasty brother Tim said as I distinctly remember, "There ARE no Girl jockeys. Girls aren't jockeys." But it was just the right time in the course of history, I guess, that I believed without doubt (and without knowledge of Diane Crump) that the requirements were 110 lb. Or less. That's all, folks. Of course getting there w/ my background was another story entirely. Still, the seed was planted.
FOTH: What event or events led you to be a jockey? How did it feel getting up on a horse for the first time? Were you nervous at all?
LL: Well, I said that we had the horse and pony rides, so I had been on a horse. But the first time I really got to ride on my own was at a camp my dad was program director of. We went to this camp in Leesburg, VA, and we were there a week early. I rode every day with the riding instructors, who were scouting out the trails in the woods. Posting was a lot different on spot than it was on old goldust. My ass was SORE. The summer wore on and after eight weeks I won an award for MOST IMPROVED rider. I was so proud. The sprout was sprouting. But I wasn't going to get to make a living with horses, it seemed, until that chance to go to the horsemanship school, which was probably the biggest turning point of my life. I wound up putting in thirty days of green-breaking on a horse I borrowed from my uncle ads an independent senior project in high school. I still have the film as a document. After one year of college, I went back to the school and spent eight or nine months (seven of which were harrowing for me, believe it or not) working and learning. When the job market pointed to the racing industry as the most open door, it wasn't long before I wound up at a training farm in Ocala, Florida. From there I went to Finger Lakes Racetrack, which is only 90 miles from where my parents were (and still are) living, and so on and so forth, through my History degree at Alfred University, and from state to state, through one boyfriend after another. Finally after the last time of saying to people 'I like exercising horses, I'm not ambitious enough to be a rider', I became a rider. The way I figured it there were people who couldn't even gallop a horse that were riding races, so how bad could I be for the money? I was thirty-one years old. To my credit, I was a good hand on the beast. I may not have been young, but I was seasoned on horseback. As far as nervous, I've only become not nervous in my life in the last couple of years. But that's everything. Nervous was a normal state for me. Now I'm not nervous about much of anything. I have a propensity toward depression and I take medication now. I am neither proud nor ashamed of this fact, but it happens to be that, just a fact, and a very important one. Had I done something about my condition sooner I would have made more sound choices with regard to both my career and my personal life.
FOTH: Who helped you out when you were starting to ride? What stuff were you taught as far as being a jockey goes?
LL: The things I remember best that I was taught I will reel off the top of my head. I don't know what the significance of any of them is, but they are the things I had on my mind mostly as I was starting out. 1. A horse can run at his best for a quarter of a mile at most. Save it for the final quarter if he'll let you. 2. If you are on the outside, try to trap the horse inside of you behind dead horses 3. Never go inside one or around two. 4. If someone bumps you, bump them back harder. 5. If someone shuts you off unnecessarily or rudely, be sure to respond in kind at the next possible opportunity. Any politeness will be taken as weakness. 6. Keep an eye on your horse's ears. 7. Ride past the wire. That's what they pay you for 8. Choose one mentor and listen to them alone. 9. Don't give away how much you are using your horse. Try to make people think you're done when you're not. 10. Don't talk to other jocks, and don't be friends with them. They will cut your throat and rob you. 11. If you are too far back to justify hitting your horse, spend the idle time practicing switching your stick from right to left and back. Of course they are significant, and good to know, but I find that a lot of the instruction you get is repeated to you hundreds of times, with the journeymen jocks saying 'the bug (rider) just won't listen.' You are out there trying to do all of this at the same time, but it didn't show until I begin to get control of the physicality of all of it. Until you can just get around there without getting tired you won't master the next thing, and on and on. You just have to try to remember what your mentors tell you and try from there to concentrate on what you think you can work on right at the moment. JUST DON'T FORGET THERE IS LOTS OF MONEY INVOLVED AND EVERYONE IS COUNTING ON YOU, SO DON'T SCREW IT UP! When you finally give up worrying about that you've become a truly great rider, I guarantee. I finally got to that point, just about, and I'm looking at retirement way too soon. The two people who most directly influenced me with regard to the rider I have become have been Jerry Noss, my agent and Significant other until 1999, and Lanny Kress, retired rider whom I was seeing prior to my relationship w/ Jerry. Lanny told me about a lot of those 'tricks' you try to play, and Jerry made me execute them, and was an unreasonable taskmaster. I learned the most from Jerry and I grant him all the credit for making me tough, very very tough, but it drove nails into the coffin on our relationship.
FOTH: I read your first race was at one of my favorite tracks, Tampa Bay Downs. Tell us what you can remember about that first race.
LL: The horse was about 14.2 hands tall, and a first time starter. The trainer put full cup blinkers on her in the hope that she would break a little more sharply. This was one of those truly air-headed and untalented horses, and I thank Hank Caballero forever for finding something for me to ride. In my eyes, Hank will always be really special. 2. The horse missed the break entirely. She didn't leave the gate until the rest of the field fell into the view she had with that giant pair of blinkers. Usually blinkers help a horse focus on the front of the gate and keep it from distractions, and it breaks better. Not her. Her name was Beene Baby. 3. At Tampa, bug riders could ride their first races with a whip, and I happened to have one, so I practiced a little with it coming up the lane. I have the tape. It's a little degenerated now. 4. She was beaten double digits. 5. After the race my trainer said "she wouldn't have run no better if Pat Day would've rode her!'" That was nice of him. You can't say anything bad about Hank around me.
FOTH: Tell us what you remember about your first win. Did you get creamed with stuff after the race?
LL: Yes, I did. Tom Cooley is the photographer for Tampa and Finger Lakes, and also develops Mountaineer Park photos. Every time a rider won their first race he was there to take photos of the initiation. It's on my parents' wall at home. Tom Cooley is a super person. Mark Zele, the man whom I won the race for, I will never forget. When he brought the horse from Penn National, he said 'get this horse ready. He'll probably be the one you break your maiden on.' Yeah, right. Well, he finally ran one day and for all of the spunk he showed in the morning, he didn't try that afternoon. I'll take credit for realizing mid-race that he was cheating, even with the limited experience I had. I went to whipping him from the three-eighths pole to the wire, and at least got his attention. His name was Sinijin. He was very playful. He would walk on his hind legs all the way from the track to the barn after his morning gallops, and to me it was like he laughed all the way. I sure didn't want him laughing after wasting all of our time and effort (and money) so I planned to be ready for him next time. Anyway, Mark put him back in a little tougher race, at seven instead of six furlongs, and told me just to make sure I got a good five eighths into him so when we ran him back in the right spot he wouldn't have lack of fitness for an excuse. He also told me that the rider he had used at Penn (I think David Appleby rode him) said Sinijin HAD to be close to the pace or he would quit. (That was enlightening.) In the paddock Mark reminded me of all of this, and I remember him saying; 'so ride him like it's your last paycheck', and I said 'maybe you should bet on him, cuz I will.' Mark had two bucks in his pocket and bought a beer with it. I was so mad at Sinijin for the last time out I hit him four times leaving the gate, and then I clipped his right ear with my stick to try to unnerve him. He laid fourth until the five-sixteenths pole, and then shattered the field as the longest shot on the board. They claimed two horses behind him. He paid 98 dollars and I remember thinking as I drove up the stretch: ' I hope Mark doesn't get mad that we won cuz he probably didn't bet." He could've bought fifty beers with the two dollars he spent at the bar instead of the window, but Mark was plenty glad just to get the pot money. That was my first win. Dynamite!
FOTH: What tracks have you ridden at and is there any track you would like to ride at one day.
LL: From north to south, here we go: Northampton, Marshfield and Great Barrington in Massachusetts, Finger Lakes in New York, Fort Erie and Woodbine in Canada, Greenwood in Canada, Detroit racecourse (I'm three for five there), Thistle, River downs and Beulah park in Ohio, Philadelphia and Penn National in Pa. Garden State and Atlantic City in NJ, Turfway in Kentucky, Mountaineer Park in West Virginia, Tampa and Gulfstream in Florida. That's all. No, I don't care if I go anyplace else. I am so glad I somehow managed to become a rider and somehow managed to get pretty good at it that I've succeeded beyond my expectations. I'm proud to be humble about that.
FOTH: I read you have ridden in over 3000 races. What keeps you motivated to keep riding and what track are you currently riding at now?
LL: I'm not terribly motivated, truthfully. I like to do too many different things, and that is, in my opinion, why my career has been relatively short and uneventful-no big titles, for instance. I think I'm good enough that if I had had any strategy beyond going where my boyfriend went, or seeing a new location, or getting out of the cold in the winter time, I'd have gotten a lot farther. I always said 'I want to be a jockey but I don't want the dream to swallow up my life.' I'm not sad at all about that, but the fact stands that I have reaped as I have sowed. Now that I know how to race-ride and feel like wanting to prove something once in a while, I actually enjoy it more. So I guess the way I'd say that I stay motivated is just don't worry about anything you lose on the outside. Outfits come and go, horses come and go; the only thing you can control is keeping yourself mentally and physically healthy. To that end you need to mind your character. You might miss some juicy opportunities, but lying to people you work for, talking about their horses to other folks, and for the very few, using a machine or worse, holding a horse for money will cost you the trust and/or respect of many horsemen in the business, and these are the people you will be doing business with for your lifetime in it. So what if you make less money the first ten years. You'll make money for way longer and it will be more in the long run than you can make before you burn every bridge. I know a man who did burn his bridges, and he's probably sixty-six and living out of his pockets, has a wife and son, only about four or five years old. I'm confident that being the best person I can be will make me the type of rider that satisfies me. There's a certain amount of religious faith in my motivation now, too. I used to think I rode because I was a self-absorbed asshole who didn't care about the larger social context in which I live. But If God had put me here to have done something else I'd be doing that, and here I am doing this. I guess what I'm saying in a roundabout way is that my mind is clear, and I feel keen to ride, and that's the whole ball of wax. I ride at mountaineer Park in WV, and ship to Thistledown. I used to ride at Thistle and ship to Mountaineer, but I got tired of shipping. So I moved down here. Between getting injured twice during what would have been my best year EVER (1998) and the purse money blowing off the roof of the NY, CA and KY tracks' purse structure, I lost my lucrative business from Thistle. The money here is so good now that the riders from up there won't pass it up to save themselves the aggravation of shipping, night racing, and getting up early the next morning.
FOTH: Do you have a favorite horse, favorite trainer and favorite track you like to ride at?
LL: As I said, horses and outfits come and go. I like too many people and have too many memories to pick a favorite horse, a favorite person or people. I've learned things from everyone, horses and people, and I'm simply overjoyed to say I've been there and done that. Anyway, this interview would never end if I opened that Pandora's box. Have you noticed that I'm long winded as it is?
FOTH: Do you feel female jockeys do not get enough respect by certain trainers and owners and what do you think can be done to change that?
LL: The answer to the first is yes, the answer to the second is time and numbers of women who become jockeys. Women need to take being athletes seriously. It doesn't hurt to work out and do aerobics and specific exercises to improve your strength and stamina and balance. Even baseball players work out, and they spend most of their time standing around waiting. Especially if you don't get to ride too many after you lose the bug, fitness will cause you to exude more confidence, and you will enjoy it more. It doesn't hurt to be awestruck by the beauty and skill of a man on horseback, either. It diminishes females not at all, so don't get on a loyalty kick where you put down men and exalt women. Be willing to face your own shortcomings, but don't associate them with being female. There are a few things I see that are big differences between females and males in the riding department. Men as a rule are more commanding, but more heavy handed, so there is an advantage and a disadvantage for them there. Women are, on the other hand, are more sympathetic with their hands, but they sometimes fail to get respect from an animal for lack of firmness. The point I want to make here is that as a woman rider I may be subject to certain limitations. Men are subject to other limitations. There is something I can do about my personal limitations. And that's the way it comes out. What I cannot do anything about (directly) is public perception of women as riders. The less I worry about proving myself as a woman and the more I concentrate on being the very best and sharpest I can be will move myself and the future of women further than any other way of thinking. If you spend my time crying about the way things are for you, remember two things: 1. If you're on a runaway horse you need to use your energy to think of a solution OTHER THAN yanking on the reins and screaming a horrified WHOA! Only the scale of your imagination limits you. So get creative. Do you think Julie Krone cared to think about being female, or that Bill Cosby cared to think about being Black? No. Why would people who simply burned to do what God threw them on the earth to do take the time? What about Jackie Robinson? He probably just WANTED THE WORLD TO SEE HIM PLAY BALL!!!!!!! (A better paycheck was also a motivator I'm sure.) He wasn't planning on trying BREAK THE COLOR BARRIER!! Forget the barriers when you are out there playing the greatest game ever created for man and beast!! Just keep creating your dream. Create doors opening, and don't quit cuz you think they should've opened farther. If you are the next woman to win a classic, consider it icing on the cake, cuz it pales next to the simple joy of being a jockey for life, a horsewoman, and a reactracker. That's only my opinion, but this is my interview. I've experienced the truth about what my instructor Ron told us students many years ago. "Your attitude needs to be; I'm going to be the greatest rider I can be. If you can't ride, then you say to yourself I'm gonna be the greatest groom I can be, and if you can't groom any good you say I'm gonna be the best farm manager I can be, and if you're too stupid to do that your attitude should be; 'I'm gonna be the best farm maintenance person I can be, or the best equine artist or the best whatever. You'll find your greatest potential thinking like that.' Ron never spoke to me beneath an angry yell until I began to grasp that idea. Then I started to get good at my horsemanship. You can say bad things about Ron to me, and they'll probably be true, but he was no cub. His words helped toughen me up, though it took years for them to reach me. Ron gives clinics around the country still. Horse handling clinics. He is an excellent horseman.
FOTH: Any other female riders you like or respect?
LL: Lori Wydick, Maureen Andrews, Jane Magrell, Francine Villaneuve (Can.), Michelle Luttrell (Chile), Michelle Harris. Debbie Barbazon. Vicki Aragon, Diane Nelson. Lillian Kuykendall, Tami Purcell. Not in any particular order, and all for different reasons. Certainly Julie Krone, for her willingness to make the sacrifices she had to make to reach the level she did. (And don't think they were SMALL sacrifices, either. Not everybody likes Julie Krone like they like Angel Cordero, she's still a girl, you know. (No intention of diminishing Angel Cordero either, here, because of course they should like him and of course he did ride for many more years than Julie Krone. just a point of fact.) Riders hate her, especially, and no shortage of women among them. Alienation is a heavy price that few are willing to pay but it's hard to get good and not alienate yourself from others. My hat is off to her. I was too young to remember Diane Crump, though she did ride at Tampa not too long ago. It felt like an honor to be in the same room with her. The biggest chunk of this woman's history of female riders. Unbelievable. The one thing all of these women riders have in common is that they were (and some still are) riders. Professionals in every sense of the word. I do not hold a candle, with my la-te-da attitude toward race riding, to these women who as I see it 'JUST DO IT' (at the risk of sounding commercial and hokey, I mean it in the most Zen sense of the term. If they were horses we would say about each of them; 'now THAT'S a racehorse'. Now that is admirable.
FOTH: I read where you plan on retiring soon. What led to this decision?
LL: I like too many things. I'm forty-three. I should be tatting doilies and knitting my grandkids' pajamas. I'm educated enough that I believe in living as many careers as you can pack into one lifetime. I'm tired of getting injured. I'm sick of riding bad horses. I hate the road trips, which are a total waste of an educated person's mind (unless you want to take Spanish on tape, or something, which is a thought.) I can't believe at my age men still offer to put me on horses with the hope of taking me out. (Boy that's degrading, but if you like the horse, ride it. That's money in the bank, and as a rule the man does NOT have your best interests at heart, so don't worry about his feelings either, honey. If you don't like the horse, don't play the man. Tell him to get someone else. You don't need to ride a BAD ONE ANYWAY. I have more to say about this.)
FOTH: What was the biggest race you ever won and biggest race you ever rode in?
LL: The Decoration Day Handicap at Mountaineer when it was a twenty-thousand dollar affair (seventy- five thousand now, and just won by Mo Andrews in 2002) or the Brecksville Handicap at Thistledown, which was twenty-five thousand. Not exactly stakes, but that's the best I can do. I rode the Ohio Derby in 1995, on a sway back. That colt broke his maiden and that was it. And he did not do it in the OHIO DERBY. I finished ninth of sixteen.
FOTH: What are some things you like to do when away from the racetrack?
LL: My computer, my bird (cockatiel) my guitar, my fiddle, goes running, read, write, paint, and draw. I'd do more if I had money and didn't need sleep.
FOTH: Take us through what you do in a typical day.
LL: I get up at five or six AM, get to the track by fifteen to seven (that's when training hours begin at Mountaineer Park) and exercise as many horses as I can. If I don't ride them I expect to get paid for galloping them. Right now there are so many people at Mountaineer Park trying to Ride or Gallop that there is less work to be found so lately I've had a relaxed routine. Really the average jockey's job, depending on where you are at, consists of either showing up consistently to at least talk to the connections for whom you expect to ride, which is sometimes handled for you completely by your agent. Right now I know one rider who shows up at the track but once a week, maybe twice, to visit his main outfits and maybe breeze a horse or two. It's a sound strategy on one hand because -- standoffishness has the effect, in my opinion, of both giving you an aura of mystery and untouchability, and of making you think more carefully about who you need the most and how you might impress them by riding well since you aren't giving them the pleasure of your company. It keeps your game real sharp. Most of the jocks I know, including myself, exercise horses, breeze horses and chat with people on a daily basis. At the smaller tracks they like you to be interested in them and their horses. It's five times as much work, but you gain their obligation to feed you mounts that way. It's sort of a racket, but it can be a lot of fun. The rest of the day is mine. If I don't ride, I'm free to enjoy my hobbies. If I have to go out of town to ride, it's all day, its miserable, but it pays very very well, and the part of seeing old friends and making new wherever you go is really great. And the charge you get out of being a performer is really cool. Sometimes I do phone work, but not very often. I'll call people to stay on top of horses or outfits if I think I need to, and call outsiders to try to snag open mounts. Most jocks either do that or get agents to do it for them. That's about all there is to a day, besides riding. But I'm not going to give you a play by play of what that's like cuz I have to send this out someday.
FOTH: If a young girl came up to you and asked how do I become a jockey, what advice would you give her?
LL: Just DON'T GIVE UP!!!!!! If you can tie your own shoe right now, you'll get there if you remember that. (Your life will be more satisfying if you decide early on whether you want to do it all your life or just for a couple of years while you are young. You will automatically adjust your sights to one or the other and pursue your chosen path more wisely according to your goals.) I have relaxed a lot of my thinking in the area of what's ethical as far as getting exposure. I know women who've won more races than me and they've paid for it by doing the obvious night job. I hope you get my meaning here. I once thought this was a bad thing, but no longer. If you can ride and it's your strategy for greater exposure it might be the best one, because if you have good looks, (especially if you have good looks,) it can be harder to get mounts by seeming intelligent. The way I see it, Your intelligence is transparent to most men in the business because as a rule, biology speaks loud, and there is so much less emphasis in the racing world on what constitutes sexual harassment that the tide is a little too strong to turn right now. Also, being a smart woman is a threat to men, who make up the lion's share of your business. Right now that's the way it is. I mean if you can prove yourself another way, and many or most have that's great, but don't feel ashamed if you don't as long as you are happy with your riding. And I don't mean give it away, I just mean don't feel bad about using your body to your advantage, especially if you like the man. Have fun, for heck's sake. You don't have to be a puritan. Just try to keep it invisible for the sake of propriety, and for your own self respect later in life stay away from the married ones and don't be going with someone if you carry on like that. Nobody likes a ruthless person, a show off or a smart ass, and they don't forget that stuff. If you have any kind of a long career, you can always reinvent yourself later, on the 'I was young and stupid' excuse. Most of riders' images are based on hype anyway, so the folks you worked with in all manner of both riding and RIDING will ultimately want to respect you no matter what so give them something to grab onto. And my guess is that if you lose mounts when you quit playing ball, if you were and are any good the experience and exposure you gained both on and off the racing surface will stand you in good stead. You have to remember that even in this business, careers are built over time, and I think a lot of kids don't realize that each year that the number of contacts increases so eventually you just have regulars that keep you making a living. They have had success with you in the past, and that means a lot. They may fire you sometimes, but they'll bring you back. (You just have to wait till they fire everyone else again.) Not only that but you add to the number of successful women riders, and that will have a similar effect to increase the clientele for women riders over time. "Yeah, but she screwed her way to the top." (big deal some jealous asshole doesn't like you and wants to rub you in dirt. Believe me if they can't do it that way they'll find another.( I won't get into that cuz my language would come out as a sexual slur, and I do have morals, believe it or not.) For a while, screw our reputation. It's a paper tiger anyway. Let's keep stealing it and bargaining for it like the Mafia had to do until Italians (and the Irish and the Jews and blacks and hopefully someday Native Americans if we don't squeeze them out of the casino advantage)) were granted sufficient social class to do REAL stuff See? We're not doing anything that other second-class citizens haven't had to do to get a foothold. Look at the dagos now (and I am part dago, on my beloved GRANDFATHER's side) Their presence in society now is transparent. And so will ours be cuz eventually the numbers of women who 'steal' participation and technology from the boys will cause the network of women in the business to be sufficient to keep women in the business without having to barter with the sanctity of our bodies. There is I am sure a better and more ingenious way to accomplish a great career. I'm simply saying that if you are not the one who thinks of it in time to forestall the apparent inevitable you won't be the first, so buck up and just make sure your mind is clear whatever you choose. You only ride for so many years, so measure the rewards against the sacrifices, and go forward without illusions.
FOTH: What sort of injuries have you had and what was the worst one?
LL: Broken Knee, torn cartilage, 1981, split upper lip, 1984, Fractured metacarpal, right hand, 1985, fractured fibula, 1992, right leg, Compressed vertebra t-11, 1993, right collar bone 1995, Right foot 1996, right wrist 1998, left hand 1998 (bad year), Torn soleus in left calf, 2000. The torn soleus was by far the most painful and most damaging injury I've had. They are right about soft tissue injuries. They hurt like hell and they are never the same. This injury has caused me more aggravation than any of my broken bones including my knee, and it has made my olds knee injury begin to aggravate me. The easiest one was my back. All it was a slight compression. I barely knew it was there, and it was like getting paid to sit on my ass. I was glad to get back to riding, though I was never bored the whole time I was off.
FOTH: What accomplishments have you done in your career?
LL: I have very little to say about my accomplishments as a rider cuz the biggest I have had to date is probably just remaining in the standings at Thistledown during the time I was based there, or at least '94,'95,'96, and I think in '95 or 6 I was 10th leading rider overall, not bad for a girl, and a program of only thirty-five races per week. My career has been very low profile, so my accomplishments are just the things I am personally proud of. The first is that of actually becoming a jock, cuz I was born into a milieu of educated, hyper-well-read individuals. My dad's dad was head of the public schools around Flint, Michigan, Dad was a teacher, his sister was a teacher, various associated people close to us on both sides of the family are artistic and musical or teacher types. I was an athletic kid but I never rode until I was out of the stage where kids take to things easily, so I was a very unbalanced rider. Anyway I somehow made it and I'm pleased to tell folks that I met along the way that I have. Not ONLY that, but I'm educated and hyper-well read to boot. As I said, I had a romantic attraction to racetrack culture. I always wanted to know how the shysters and gypsies carried on. I met lots of shysters and gypsies and unfortunately for my reputation, carried on with some of them. I never held a horse, but I got involved in some misdirection plays. Because of the folks I was around, when I began to ride many people didn't want to use me because they thought I would get their horses claimed or not let their horses run. I even think that's half the reason I got turned in to the Canadian authorities when I rode there with the bug; because I was associating with folks they considered to be undesirables. Only thing was, I was brought up in a very moral family. They didn't even spank their kids, but there was a healthy predisposition to guilt that made me careful to keep my mouth shut and to treat people I did ride for with the concern they deserved, so now that I am by myself I think I am very well trusted, even by my least cordial acquaintances. The thing about these gypsy folks was that they always made the funniest things happen. I learned a lot and I met real characters. Some of the stories are unforgettable, and best of all, true. The fact is that all of my excuses for why I never 'made it' and all the stupid things I did to stop myself from being successful come from not wanting the business to take away my ordinariness. When you are ordinary you go home after work and your life belongs to you. If you are Chris McCarron or Gary Stevens, you'll be on your way to the East coast on your kid's birthday, or having to ride ten races when you want to be flying your new kite. I'm not saying they are missing something. They have what they want. By the same token, if I look at my life, so do I. I also was most concerned with traveling more than with becoming anything. I went to California for a while before I started riding, and I really got my best education in Texas, in the short time I spent working for the MacArthurs. I don't think Tami Purcell would remember me, but I met her there (That's another very professional, outstanding woman rider, by the way). I got to see Manor Downs, Bandera, and some little joint in Goliad, Texas. I worked at Manor. That was 1987 or 88. 88 I think. I worked at Penn, Finger Lakes, Farms in Ocala, Tampa, Got to fly to the Gulfstream sale once in a little twelve-seater with Steve DiMauro, Sr. and his daughter (I think). I was so shy at the time I didn't say a word the whole time, till he asked me how I enjoyed the trip. He probably thought I was brain dead. I've never worked on the NYRA circuit, and the only NYRA track I've been to is Saratoga, even though I'm from NY. Being a horseperson by trade makes you able to go anywhere you want to go and make a living (but you have to get permission to do it as a foreigner. I know this.) At every moment in my career I have had what I wanted. My memories will keep me laughing for a long time, and my ordinary life permitted me to go fishing a lot. The closest it ever came to getting big I became very depressed and thought I would have a nervous breakdown. I love lots of down time in between my up times I so love my life just exactly the way it is right now. It's enough just to be here. I count as one of my accomplishments the tour of the Mass. Fairs because that's like getting to be part of a piece of history. My greatest accomplishment of all by far though has come from doing it for a while, and that's the realization that beyond a sympathetic hand and a decent sense of balance, there is not much mystique to being a race rider. Some make lots of money, but it's trade just like plumbing or playing in an orchestra. You are there because you belong there and the longer you do it the better you get cuz you never stop adding to your experience. I'm not the outsider I always thought I was. I'm a jock cuz being a jock is the easiest thing for me to be. It fits me. I'm not the best jock or the worst jock, just a good tradesman. I've always viewed the 'big gambles' as highlights in my career. Three times I have been shipped out of town to ride for someone who expected to make a 'score', and I was always proud that I was given that responsibility. Once all I got was dinner and a photo, even though my connections made some dough, once the horse ran horrible and turned out to have a bad lung infection. By far the best was when my agent and I were given about fifteen per cent of the take. That was Jerry Noss, and I'll never forget him saying that we would get me a new truck, a nice one with the money. Sure 'nuff I got a little Nissan, and I loved that truck, I was so proud of it. But that's a real great feeling when everything goes as planned, the horse ships OK, he's ready to run, I was prepared with sufficient strategy, someone had the money to bet, the equipment didn't break, I was smart enough to wake the plodder up when the track turned bad in time to get the money, we came and left Philadelphia park like a little mystery... Another time I knew I was sitting on a winner even though the race was the wrong race. It had just enough speed to set up for me, though, and the horse was at an absolute peak and I knew it, so I asked the trainer to bet for me. Well, on that confidence he bet for himself as well, and the groom bet too, and we all made money. She paid 50.20. I mainly exercise horses for a living now, and I ride the few I like or the ones I accept for people I like or care about, and the occasional good one I wind up on by accident If I get fired, I am never upset anymore. Maybe the first five minutes. When I see that I'm not on a horse I hoped or expected to be on I am thankful I don't have to ride that evening. It's nice to let go of the stress, and the sourness, and be able to let my experiences sink in rather than have to take the rapid fire of full time riding, shipping, sucking up, making excuses, etc., etc. All my career I hated ridin every day, after galloping every morning. I really don't recall much joy in that whole program cuz I never could handle the mental stress. Every time I won all I could feel was relief that I might get to 'hang onto' an outfit a little longer, I don't recall feeling like 'I WON'. So I'm glad that I am in control of my participation now. I feel like riding when I ride, I feel like I've won when I win, and I have no concerns about my Image or reputation as a rider. Now THAT to me, is an accomplishment.
FOTH: Looking back now do you have any regrets at all about the way things went for you?
LL: No. They went the way they were supposed to go for me. Most of the things I did cost me earlier and greater success than I could have had, but I can tell anyone all about my path now and they can learn from my hits and misses. I'm as happy about that as I would be about a big trophy. Actually, I don't think I ever wanted anything big like that, not if it would have cost me the character I have. Some of what I'm writing about here has to do with moves I wish I had made or feelings I've had. It's all my opinion, only my opinion, and should be taken as only my opinion. I'm speaking it so that those who follow me can have a truthful record to make clear- minded choices for their own careers. I'm not pulling punches SPECIFICALLY for that reason.
FOTH: After you retire what do you plan on doing? Do you think you will miss it a lot?
LL: I do plan on sharing my experiences in whatever way I can, to offer guidance to anyone else who is interested in being a jockey. Free-lance writing is one of my ideas. But I'm going to horseback in any shape or form and make a living doing it until I can't anymore. I am a horsewoman. I break horses, I ride horses. There's good money in it if you're in the right place and don't mind working hard. I am also certain that whatever I like to do will find it's own way to make money. I'll miss the physical feel of it and the hours, and the changing of the seasons, my bonds with my equine friends. Being able to work where I can be myself and I can dress casually. Being my own boss. I'll miss the folks I've met.
FOTH: Liz mega thanks for the interview and being part of our page. Any last words you want to say?
LL: Thanks for waiting for this, and thanks for taking my rather long winded answers, and thanks for whatever editing that you do carefully so as not to change the meaning if what I have said. Leave stuff out if you have to but bear in mind that women who want to ride and other people who can be helpful to the needs of woman jockeys will surely read this stuff.