George Rowand discusses his new book, Diary of a Dream: My Journey in Thoroughbred Racing

George Rowand was born and grew up in Richmond, Virginia. After attending Virginia Tech, where he received a degree in history, and the University of Memphis Law School, he began practicing law in Manassas, Virginia.

His life took a radical turn when he saw Secretariat win the Preakness Stakes, and on that day he decided he had to find a way to breed and own Thoroughbreds. In 1980 he started syndicating racehorses under the name of Bonner Farm, and after six dreadful years the horses had won one race. However, when the yearling fillies he bought were bred, the entire enterprise took off. He campaigned graded stakes winners for six consecutive years and left the business in 1998.

He now is the business editor of the Fauquier Times-Democrat in Warrenton, Virginia, and lives in the village of Orlean with Rita, his wife of 21 years, and their son Michael, 15.

In Diary of a Dream, you and your partners endure many lean years before success. How did you retain your optimism?

Personally, I just believed that it would work out somehow. We thought that we were doing everything we possibly could do -- listening to people who had succeeded in the business, hiring trainers who had been successful, etc. -- that we just thought that one day, the cards would fall our way.

What do you consider the low point in the Bonner Farm story?

For me, the lowest point was when we sold Fragile Dream for $1,000. She was the first horse we ever owned that really wanted to be a racehorse, and then she was injured and retired as a broodmare. Because we needed to cut expenses, we needed to sell her, and to see that noble individual be humiliated in the sales ring like that nearly broke my heart.

When did you have a glimmer that success was at hand?

I was at Pimlico in late September 1987, and Highland Springs was running in a starter allowance against a couple of tough, hard-knocking horses. He had won $7,700 in two wins, and he was in against a couple that had won $250,000. I didn’t expect him to win, but when he ranged up on the outside of the leader on the turn for home, and then went ahead and won, I couldn’t believe it. You truly could have knocked me over with a feather. That was when I believed that Bonner Farm’s fortunes were moving in the right direction.

Which horse meant the most to you?

Miss Josh has the biggest place in my heart. First of all, she was gorgeous, a true bay without a speck of white on her, and then she had the competitiveness to overcome a series of physical problems and succeed. She broke her maiden in her fourth start, in a lowly $12,000 maiden claimer, and two years to the day later, she won the grade I Gamely Handicap at Hollywood Park. She ended up winning over $750,000 and being an Eclipse Award finalist, but most of all, she came to run every time they led her over. Barclay (Tagg, the trainer) said that she would run through machine gun fire to win a race, and the fact that she was named for my mother was the icing on the cake.

What victory was the most special?

The Gamely Handicap in 1991 was the most special victory for me. We had to ship Miss Josh to Hollywood Park and face the best turf mares that were running in California, and she won our first grade I stakes that afternoon, which was special in and of itself. Then, when Laffit Pincay got back to the winner’s circle, he said, “Don’t run her here again. It was too hard on her. The track was stinging her feet all the way around.” I looked at her with even more respect. She had won the most important race we had won to that point, and she didn’t even like the course.

What lessons can would-be and new Thoroughbred owners take from Diary of a Dream?

I think that the lessons that new Thoroughbred owners can take from this story is that you never know when your luck is about to change for the better. We ended up with one mare that won $450 in her racing career. We bred her to cheap stallions -- $3,500, $5,000, $6,500 stud fees -- and she produced four graded stakes winners, including two grade I winners -- in her first six foals. Two of them started their racing careers in cheap maiden claimers and became multiple graded stakes winners. If we had tried to sell them as yearlings, they probably wouldn’t have brought $10,000. If you’ve had nothing but bad luck in racing, and you’re ready to quit -- as I was -- I’d have a question for you: How do you know that you don’t have a great horse in your barn? You don’t know that the yearling you bought or bred isn’t the one that will take you places you’ve only dreamed about. It happened to us. It could happen to you.

What qualities must an owner have to succeed at this game?

Perseverance. Optimism, because there are plenty of lows to go with the occasional peak experience. Toughness of spirit, because the game can break you emotionally. And hope. When all is said and done, I think it is the quality of hope that makes people stay in the game long enough to experience success.

If you had to do it over, how might you approach ownership differently?

After suffering six years of failure and then a decade of success, I think that the single thing I would emphasize in owning a racehorse would be to run it where it can win. Everybody wants to own and race stakes winners, but those come along about three times in 100 foals, so the vast majority of horses will never be successful in those terms. But if you give them a break and figure out where they can be competitive, they can win and provide you with great excitement and great memories. I know that Highland Springs and Miss Josh would never have become multiple graded stakes winners if we hadn’t allowed them to race in and win low-level claiming races. Those two became professional racehorses; they weren’t born that way.

One more thing: Here’s what I would wish for any small owner and breeder: I would wish that everybody could own a mare like Highland Mills. Considering the odds she faced, and the stallions that we bred to her, her story has to be one of the biggest success stories in racing. And I would wish that everyone could breed and campaign a horse like Miss Josh. When you’ve seen a filly that you’ve bred grow up, seen her overcome physical problems, seen her struggle to win in her early racing career, and then watched her blossom and become a grade I winner, well, I feel that you’re about as close to true bliss that a horse owner will ever approach.

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