Secretariat Park Foundation, Inc.

06/04/2026

Nobody told Secretariat it was race day. He already knew.

Ed Sweat crushed out his cigarette and turned inward, his voice dropping low: *"He's in the back of the stall. He knows. He knows and he don't want to be bothered. He's thinkin' about it."* That moment — quiet, almost spiritual — tells you everything about what made this partnership legendary. The groom walked to the middle of the shed, turned on the spigot, and for the next hour sat cleaning leather halters and lead shanks with soap and water. No fanfare. Just the ritual.

What does a champion look like at 4 o'clock in the afternoon, half an hour before the greatest race of his life? He stands at ease. He stands quietly.

Then, at 4:07, Charlie Davis rides up on Billy Silver — the Appaloosa gelding, no longer sore — and reins him to a sudden stop. He is waiting. Because Secretariat is coming, and something in the air already knows it.

"Here he comes," someone murmurs from the crowd.

Edward Sweat leads the c**t up the aisle of Barn 5, past the rows of stalls, toward the doorway at the end. The c**t's head is down. He is moving relaxed. Ted McClain walks in front. "Y'all are gonna have to step back from here now," Ted says — and people do, because there are moments in sport when even strangers instinctively make room for greatness.

It is 5:10. Thirty minutes to post time.

The moment Secretariat leaves the shed, something shifts. His head comes up — as if he wants to stop, as if he's choosing to go forward rather than being led. His eyes are flicking. His neck turns slightly left. His teeth are working the bit, rolling it with his tongue, grinding down on it. He looks almost predatory. Across the road, Sham and trainer Pancho Martin cross through the tunnel toward the paddock — and Secretariat watches them go.

Ed Sweat says nothing to anyone. His expression is stern. His right hand holds the bridle. On his head: the victory hat.

He was wearing it before the race even started.

*Some people prepare for greatness. Some people already know🐎

05/20/2026

05/02/2026

HAPPY DERBY YA'LL! 🌹🏆
Thought I'd celebrate the spirit of the greatest racehorse of all time on Derby Day. May his legacy inspire us to strive for greatness! 💪 💙

05/01/2026

There were Triple Crown winners before him, and Triple Crown winners after him, but nobody swept through the Kentucky Derby, Preakness, and Belmont Stakes with the same drama, style and flair as Secretariat.

04/30/2026

Watch for the Paris, Ky commercial on NBC Sports live streams!! Peacock’s Kentucky Oaks and Kentucky Derby streaming coverage at the center of all the excitement!

03/31/2026

A Farewell to Greatness: Secretariat's Final Gallop at Woodbine🐴💔

By WELOVESECRETARIATPAGE 👇

On a crisp October afternoon in 1973, as autumn leaves whispered farewells in the wind, the world witnessed the final thunder of hooves from the greatest racehorse ever to grace the earth: Secretariat. His last race, held at the Woodbine Racetrack in Toronto, Canada, was not merely a competition—it was a poignant, powerful goodbye to the track that made him legend and myth.

For the fans gathered that day—some wrapped in coats, others in dreams—there was a hush of reverence in the air. Secretariat, the flame-red c**t with the heart three times the size of most, stood in the paddock like a monarch preparing to take his throne one last time. Though the days of the Triple Crown were behind him, the fire in his eyes had not dimmed. He was not just a horse; he was poetry in motion, a living crescendo.

The race was the Canadian International Stakes. Secretariat faced a field of seasoned turf runners, including the European star, Big Spruce. But the crowd was not there for the contest—they came for closure, for one last glimpse of the impossible.

And Secretariat gave them everything.

With the gate's clang, he broke clean and smooth, his stride unfolding like a love letter to the sport. He soared over the grass with the grace of memory and the power of destiny, pulling away from his challengers as though carried by something divine. The silence shattered into roars as he rounded the final turn, alone, unstoppable, glorious.

He crossed the finish line not just first, but immortal. The clock ticked, the race was won, but time itself bowed in those final moments. Secretariat didn’t just end his career—he sealed a legend. The people cheered through tears, their applause a bittersweet song of thanks and farewell.

That day, Secretariat did not race to prove. He raced to say goodbye.

As he was led back to the winner’s circle, eyes followed him with the kind of reverence usually reserved for royalty or falling stars. And when he was finally loaded into the van that would take him away from the roar of crowds forever, a collective breath was held. Secretariat, with his chestnut coat glinting like autumn fire, turned once—just slightly—as if to give the world one last look.

It was a moment that said: Remember me not just as a champion, but as something rare and fleeting, like magic.
And we do🐎

03/30/2026

03/30/2026

03/30/2026

Today we celebrate the birth of Secretariat!

Fifty-six years ago today, the regal dam Somethingroyal foaled her most famous offspring, a c**t by perennially leading sire Bold Ruler. Secretariat's biographer Bill Nack told the story best. See brief excerpts below and read Nack's complete account on our new webpage commemorating the birth of the future equine legend.
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“It was almost midnight in Virginia, late for the farmlands north of Richmond, when the breathing quickened in the stall, the phone rang in the Gentry home, and two men came out the front door, hastily crossing the lawn to the car...

“The man behind the wheel was Howard M. Gentry, sixty-two years old, for almost twenty years a manager of the Meadow Stud in Doswell, one of the most successful breeding farms in America. Sitting with him in the front seat was Raymond W. Wood, a railroad conductor, fifty-four years old, Gentry's long-time friend and neighbor, for years his steady companion at straight pool, and himself a modest breeder of thoroughbred horses….

“Gentry looked at his watch. It was ten minutes after midnight, March 30, 1970, the moment the whole foal emerged. He was a chestnut, with three white feet—the right front and the two behind. The c**t lay at his mother's head when Gentry, looking at him, stepped back and shook his head and said to Wood, ‘There is a whopper.’"
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Check out our new webpage to read the full chapter from Nack's ever-popular book, "Secretariat, The Making of a Champion." https://www.secretariat.com/happy-birthday-secretariat/

See more Secretariat-related news and offerings in our Spring newsletter: https://tinyurl.com/SecretariatNews-Spring2026

03/19/2026

On October 4, 1989, at the age of 19, the mighty chestnut left the world. It was a heartbreaking moment for the racing community—how does one ever lay a legend to rest?
He was granted a rare tribute, reserved for only the most extraordinary: a full-body burial. Yet what came next stunned everyone. During the necropsy, the veterinarian discovered Secretariat’s heart weighed an astonishing 22 pounds.
For perspective, the average Thoroughbred’s heart weighs barely 8 pounds. His wasn’t diseased. It wasn’t irregular. It was simply… perfect. Perfectly shaped, perfectly functioning—nearly three times larger than most.
It was the great engine behind his impossible feats. The muscle that powered miracles. Some credit the mysterious “X-Factor” gene, passed down from his dam, Somethingroyal. But for those who truly knew him, Secretariat’s gift went beyond bloodlines. It was destiny.
As his devoted groom Eddie Sweat once said: “He gave you everything. You never had to ask.”
Even in death, Secretariat’s heart could not remain silent. It spoke one last time—the story of greatness itself.