It was a normal Friday afternoon at my place of work and I was finishing up my last task of the day before I could go home and squeeze in a quick nap.

My final stop was the horse ID office to pick up papers for a horse.

A race was on the television so we all watched the race as we waited for papers to transfer. The horses were coming down the stretch of Saratoga when we all noticed a jockey come off his horse and the horse struggling to continue on. We remained silent and looked at each other in stone like glances.

We knew what was going to happen to the horse and we knew it did not need to be said out loud.

As we stood and sat quietly, we heard the betting public vocalize their anger with the horse for ruining their bets. This was not the first time I sat silently while angry people surrounded me after an accident.

As someone who grew up around horse racing in Saratoga, the understanding that accidents happen has always been with me.

The thought of laying blame on someone has never been a thought in my head. Instead, I have always thought about the people impacted by the death. The breeders, owners, trainers, grooms, riders/drivers, hotwalkers, veterinarians, and farriers have all lost a player on their team.

The breeders are the beginning of a horse’s journey. They are the ones who ensure that the foal has the best chance at being a racehorse before it’s training begins. Breeding farms employ numerous amounts of people that work together to create the best possible environment for the baby. Many times, employees will follow their favorite babies when they go on to their career and continue to follow them until the end of their careers.

To put it simply, the owners play a vital role by owning the horse and putting it under a trainer's care.

This horse becomes family and business to the owners. They take morning trips to watch their horse train and they all stand and hope they have the freak of nature in the crop of babies.

The rest of the team can all be lumped together in this last group.

These are the players that are on the field. They play an active role in each horse's life until the day they step off the track and they play roles in their retirement and aftercare. Every member of this team takes better care of their horses than they do themselves. Every player spends hours upon hours with each horse on their team. Some days, the team members spend more time with the horses than they do their own family or friends.

The impact of an athlete's death is seen almost immediately, but the long lasting impact is hidden.

Tears well up in eyes as a decision to euthanize a horse is made or as they get the phone call that one of their athletes is not going to make it. The freshly bedded stall will never be used by that horse again. The groom will never touch the horse again. The rest of the barn staff will never use the nickname for the horse on another horse. The staff all think about what could have been done differently as they silently put blame on themselves, but they don't see the other staff in a neighboring barn. After a death at the track, heavy hearts are carried by all.

“I'm so sorry.”

“Did you hear what happened yesterday in that race?”

“Did the horse make it?”

“This sucks.”

All of those phrases carry a commonality. They ring around the track like the horses that race there.

A few weeks ago, a friend and I were at the races when a horse suddenly pulled up. Immediately I stood up to look down the rail and I realized the horse was not going to be okay. I had to take a deep breath and close my eyes for a few seconds before I could form a sentence. The rest of the day was difficult for me because I kept putting myself in other people's place.

I kept thinking “I feel so sorry for everyone in the barn. What if that was one of mine?”

I went into work the next morning and spent a few more minutes petting and playing with the horses in the barn. The next few days I carried a heavy heart for the horse that I saw. All the while I didn't know the horses name or who’s barn he was in. None of that matters to the backstretch workers. They worry about the horse and not all the details.

To say that people are in it for the money and that this business is greedy is a simple minded statement. Every single person knows that when it comes down to it, they all work for the horses. Without the horses, no one would have a job. A single horse employs a large amount of people from the time that it is born until the time that it leaves the track. Losing a horse is a huge blow to that group of people. They put all of their efforts into this horse while focusing on other horses at the same time. We all take pride in our horses when they step into to the track and we all have two goals. We want to win the race and get the horse back to the barn safely so that they can continue doing what they love to do.

To return to the barn without the athlete is an emotional loss that hangs with the barn for a few days.

Not to trivialize the horse's life, but the employee must move on. They must continue on with the care of other horses all while seeing the stall that their animal once stood in. Listen to the backstretch workers when you have a chance. You will hear stories of their favorites that they once cared for. You will hear grown men and women share their love of a common animal like giddy children. You will soon realize that the people that are bashed on social media for participating in this sport are some of the most caring people on Earth. You will soon realize the monsters that media has created are carrying with them a bag of sorrows.

A bag of lost and forgotten horses that will live on throughout their stories. Instead of trying to stop a historical sport, try to help it instead.