Eddie Sweat
The Groom with the Touch
Eddie Sweat had the touch with Secretariat. No one was closer to the famed Triple Crown champion than his late groom.
Through thick and thin, sunshine and pouring rain, the great horse’s personal caretaker was always at his charge’s side.
In 1972, during 2-year-old Secretariat’s first season, trainer Lucien Laurin switched Eddie Sweat from grooming Meado Stable star Riva Ridge – who had just won the Kentucky Derby and Belmont Stakes — to taking care of Secretariat, a horse Laurin was beginning to envision as perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime champion. The trainer wanted his best man on his best horse, and Sweat was tabbed for the job.
Of course, all the hands in Lucien Laurin’s racing stable were skilled at their jobs. But the trainer felt Sweat had something extra — that certain something you might call “touch.” The groom had a way with horses, and proved to have a special connection with Secretariat. The partnership that ensued lasted through Secretariat’s career.
Exercise rider Charlie Davis, a fellow South Carolina horseman working for the Meadow Stable, said Sweat treated Secretariat like the horse was family — and the horse seemed to feel the same about his caretaker. “Eddie would be coming up the shed row and Secretariat would be looking at him every step, like, ‘Here comes daddy,’” recalled Davis. “When Eddie would come in the stall door with that currycomb, he’d say, ‘Right there, Eddie. Oh, oh. Scratch it right there.’”
As physically strong as Secretariat was, he could have been a very tough horse to handle, but Davis said the son of Bold Ruler was a “pussycat” for Eddie Sweat. Secretariat had “horse sense” and allowed Sweat to be in his stall for all his necessary duties — not just the things Secretariat enjoyed like being scratched with a currycomb. And all the while, Sweat would talk to his horse. Talk and talk. A soothing staccato of constant attention and affection. Horse talk, an outsider might think. Groom talk was probably the way Secretariat heard it.
The Early Days
Eddie Sweat was born on August 29, 1939 in Holly Hill, S.C. and got his first glimpses of Thoroughbred racehorses at nearby horse farms in his hometown. Sweat grew up mesmerized by the grace and beauty of the horses he watched bounding across pastures and honing their speed over training tracks. As a teenager he picked up work where he could, and finally landed a good job digging postholes and mending fences at Laurin’s Thoroughbred training farm in Holly Hill. Laurin noticed the hard-working teenager, and soon offered Sweat a chance to be part of the inner workings of his racing stable. The trainer noticed Sweat had a natural feel for the high-strung and sensitive equine athletes — the “touch” that top trainers are always seeking.
When Laurin’s stable headed north to New York, Sweat went with it, and within a few years Sweat was “rubbing” some of the top horses in the nation, including the champion filly Quill and Belmont Stakes winner Amberoid. When Laurin took on Penny Chenery's Meadow Stable string in 1971, Sweat was assigned to the most talented colts in the trainer's barn, including 1972 Kentucky Derby and Belmont Stakes winner Riva Ridge, and then Secretariat.
During the time he was Secretariat’s groom — from the fall of 1972 through the remainder of Secretariat's historic career — the limelight naturally fell Eddie Sweat’s way, and he became possibly the best-known groom of all time. Sweat was seen with his horse on national television, and was mentioned in news stories that appeared in newspapers and magazines around the world.
Despite his newfound fame, Sweat took his role to be just who he was. If big-time writers like Bill Nack from Sports Illustrated wanted to hang around the barn and write about Secretariat — and Sweat happened to be included in their stories — well, that was fine. But he never paid much attention beyond that. As long as Secretariat didn’t bite the writers — and they didn’t bite the horse — that was all right. Eddie Sweat’s business was Secretariat.
"As long as Secretariat didn’t bite the writers — and they didn’t bite the horse — that was all right. Eddie Sweat’s business was Secretariat."
—Sweat arrived on the job before dawn and was at the barn through most of the day, then often back at night to look in on his champion. Sweat was also the stable’s van driver. He and Charlie Davis were always dispatched as a team to haul top horses from the barn in New York to run in stakes races at other tracks — Monmouth, Pimlico, Arlington and Woodbine. Once arrived, Sweat and Davis would manage the horses through the stay, and then return — the trust of the trainer and the respective horses’ owners riding with them.
During the weeks leading up the 1973 Kentucky Derby, when Secretariat began to capture unprecedented attention, either Sweat or Davis, and usually both, spent every minute of every day with Secretariat. “One of us would only leave to go out to bring back sandwiches,” recalled Davis. “But one of us would always be there.” The pair was especially vigilant in the days before the Derby, forming a protective human shield around the horse that everyone wanted to be near.
Most days were not so pressure packed, of course. Horse racing is an agrarian sport and racehorses are, essentially, pasture animals. The backside stable area is more a world of straw and dirt, liniment and night air. Barn swallows singing in the morning. Maybe an occasional goat around to keep a nervous horse company. It’s a routine. Every day, Sweat washed Secretariat’s red coat, then brushed it to a gleam. He might run a hose of cold water across tender shins, or slather liniment on long legs – with heat seeping into tight muscles and the sharp smell of wintergreen wafting through the air. A day with Secretariat was hands on hide, fingers on hooves. Sweat would heft manure from his horse’s stall, and toss in fresh straw to fluff out a soft bed. Then he’d rake up around the front of Secretariat’s stall — the real-world castle of the superhorse who would soon become the Triple Crown champion.
Work done in the morning, Sweat would scoop out four quarts of oats for “Sexy’s” next meal. Maybe some sweet mash with molasses. The groom would also hang up a bundle of sweet alfalfa hay for the horse to munch on throughout the day. One time someone asked Sweat for an insider’s bit of secret knowledge about Secretariat, and Eddie replied, “He eats too much.”
"He eats too much."
Of course, Sweat was kidding. Grooms love to report to the trainer that their big horse “ate up.” It means he’s “doing good.” And a large horse like Secretariat needed his oats, and plenty of them. If a horse was prone to be lazy, it might not be good if he ate too much. But Secretariat trained fast and broke track records, including those in the Kentucky Derby, Preakness and Belmont stakes to capture the 1973 Triple Crown.
Shorty - A Good Man
Sweat wasn’t a tall man; in fact he was affectionately known as "Shorty" around the barn. But he was strong. “He was about 5-feet-6, but he was dynamite built,” said Davis. “Big chest and big arms. He could do a man’s work.”
And he was a good man to work with, Davis fondly remembered.
“One time we were at Keeneland with Riva Ridge, and Ronnie Turcotte had come in to ride Riva in the Blue Grass,” said Davis. “Me and Eddie had planned to have us a big pot of pinto beans, with ham hocks and some spices. We liked to cook up something special so we didn’t always have to go to the track kitchen.” Sweat and Davis made a trip into Lexington to purchase a hot plate and a pot and all the beans and ingredients for their feast. They started the beans simmering that night before going to bed.
The next morning the guys were thinking about their upcoming big meal while attending to a full morning of chores around the barn.
“All of a sudden, Eddie says, 'where’s Ronnie?'” recalled Davis. “I said, ‘uh-oh – the beans!’”
Sweat and Davis raced into the tack room to find Turcotte polishing off the last of the pot of beans and grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, these were awfully good beans, fellas,” Turcotte said, as the stable hands looked on in utter dismay.
Of course, Turcotte wasn’t about to let his pals down. He knew they didn’t have a lot of money and had put a great deal of effort into their pot of beans. The jockey was just having fun, and immediately treated the guys to a big dinner in a restaurant. Everyone around the barn told the beans story for years afterward. There was a great deal of shedrow camaraderie amongst the Secretariat team.
Following the glory years of Secretariat and Riva Ridge, when Laurin retired, Sweat went to work with Laurin’s son, Roger Laurin. (It was Roger who originally suggested his father for the Meadow Stable job.) Roger was also a top conditioner on the New York racing circuit. There Sweat rubbed more fine horses, including Breeders’ Cup Juvenile sensation Chief’s Crown
Eddie Sweat died of leukemia in 1998. He was a humble, hardworking man who fit naturally into the life of one of the greatest horses in history. Because everyone around Secretariat became a celebrity, Sweat was a celebrity, too, in a way. But he always let the horse be the star.
Secretariat's owner Penny Chenery so appreciated Sweat's invaluable expertise contributing to the success of the Meadow Stable, she made sure that he was represented in her 2004 commission of Secretariat's life-sized statue by sculptor Edwin Bogucki located at the Kentucky Horse Park in Lexington. Immortalized in bronze, Sweat is shown leading Secretariat and rider Ron Turcotte into the winner’s circle at Churchill Downs after the colt's victory in the 99th Run for the Roses.
And a whole new generation of fans was introduced to Sweat via the silver screen. During the filming of the Disney Studios 2010 movie “Secretariat,” director Randall Wallace and his staff spent hours with the living members of the original Secretariat team trying to get Eddie Sweat’s character just right. Actor Nelsan Ellis portrayed Sweat in the movie, and received critical acclaim for his outstanding performance.
Through all the years, one thing Secretariat’s fans have especially appreciated is Eddie’s surname: Sweat. Then and now, that name sounds just right for the devoted groom who — working in the sacred surroundings of dirt and straw that only true horsemen know — had his dreams and efforts rewarded by the blazing crimson colt who would become a superstar champion, allowing both to reach the pinnacle of their profession. Eddie Sweat and Secretariat, forever inseparable.
Adapted from a previous feature story by Bill Doolittle. Please click on select images available for puchase.
Readers may also enjoy "Sweat Legacy Etched in Stone" blog post by Steve Haskin