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He was the son of Hard Tack, sired by the mighty Man O' War.
But the breeding did little to impress anyone at Claiborne Farms.
Get rid of him.
At six months, he was shipped off to train with the legendary trainer Sunny Fitzsimmons,
who, over time, developed a similar opinion of the colt.
Is that a racehorse or a lead pony?
[ Narrator ] Thejudgment wasn't helped by his gentle nature.
Where his sire had been a fierce, almost violent competitor,
Seabiscuit took to sleeping for huge chunks of the day...
and enjoyed lolling for hours under the boughs of thejuniper trees.
His other great talent was eating.
Though half the size of other colts, Seabiscuit could frequently eat twice as much.
Fitzsimmons decided the horse was lazy...
and felt sure he could train the obstinance out ofhim.
I want you to hit him as many times as you can over a quarter of a mile.
When he didn't improve, they decided the colt was incorrigible.
They made him a training partner to better horses,
forcing him to lose head-to-head duels...
to boost the confidence of the other animal.
By the time he was three years old,
Seabiscuit was struggling in two cheap claiming races a week.
Soon he grew as bitter and angry as his sire Hard Tack had been.
He was sold for the rock-bottom price of $2,000.
And, of course, it all made sense.
Champions were large, they were sleek,
they were without imperfection.
When they finally did race him, he didjust what they had trained him to do.
He lost.