Withal Typhoon is by no means the faint-hearted sprinter that his early races indicated; he shows a strong infusion of the good old stout Glenelg blood, and if Ornament can beat him he cannot give him much and do it.
The race was a beautiful one, and the following description, written by Mr. E. L. Aroni, turf editor of the Louisville Courier-Journal, could scarcely be excelled in accuracy as well as graphic power.
“It lacks eight minutes of four o’clock when the six colts line up. Ornament begins to dance a little, and the jockeying of the boys on the other starters causes a wait. Typhoon does not relish the delay, and prances back of the field. In a few minutes they move up and break, but Typhoon whirls around and the flag does not fall. A minute later, when they have been at the post only six minutes, they break once again. This time they are caught in line with less than half a length between first and last. Down go the red and yellow squares. There is a roar from the crowded grand stand, and the twenty-third Kentucky Derby is begun.
“What all careful watchers of the turf expected comes to pass. Typhoon sweeps to the front, with the others after him. Garner with admirable judgment swings the big chestnut toward the dry middle of the track as they round into the stretch. Goshen and Ben Brown are lapped on him, lying toward the rail, but on good going. Dr. Shepard is still near the inside, while behind come Ornament and Dr. Catlett, the slowest to get in motion. “Teen” Williams starts to work through the bunch with Dr. Catlett, choosing the faster part of the track. Clayton, on the other hand, carries Ornament toward the rail. He saves ground, bearing out on the others as strongly as possible to get good going, but thereby using energy that his mount will need later in the race.
“Rating towards the stand Typhoon’s splendid burst of speed is in evidence. He comes like a wild horse opening a gap of three daylight lengths—a yellow streak, like that other one that came flying along the outer rail across the track eight years ago, when Proctor Knott raced home just one jump behind Spokane. Like Proctor Knott in many ways this same Typhoon—in color, action and the unconquerable desire to lead his field.
“Passing the stand Ornament is the nearest to him. Dr. Shepard is at the favorite’s side with Ben Brown on even terms with him. Dr. Catlett is close up and running strongly, though showing no great speed, while Goshen even this early is in trouble.
“Scarcely a change is to be noted as they round the turn and near the finish of the first half-mile of their journey. Dr. Shepard is hanging on better than was expected and Dr. Catlett is striving gamely to lie with the flying leaders. But they are out of it clearly barring falls and sudden deaths. As for Ben Brown and Goshen they are simply striking examples of the difference between stake and plater class regardless of the time test. They are lost in the dim distance before the end of the first half-mile.
“The two Doctors are good colts, and game colts, but from the time the field straightened into the backstretch, they too may be dismissed from comment. They strive hard, but that chestnut demon in front is breaking their hearts, and their utmost efforts do not save them from falling foot by foot farther back from any chance in the final struggle for the prize.
“It is a duel. To the uninitiated Typhoon seems to be merely rating in front with ample in reserve. To those who know the colt it is soul-stirring to see that other little chestnut colt buckling to his work, holding that lead down to three lengths and refusing to be outfooted by a splendid sprinter.
“Around the far turn Clayton throws the whip into Ornament’s side, and he runs out from under it marvelously. A full length is closed, but Clayton settles down to hand-riding again and no more of the gap is closed. Again he does this as the finish of the first mile is passed. Again he changes his tactics. And still Typhoon races in front.