By CHRIS MCGRATH
Round and round they go, each with a
different way of moving, unspooling their
talent in daily increments around the train-
ing circuit. The furlong markers, like every-
thing else bearing the Eddie Woods brand,
are hooped in red and black. Just a throw-
back to colours he wore riding one or two
better types, in the old days, back in Ireland
as a steeplechase jockey. But the colours of
roulette, too, of course; and each turn of
the wheel brings each of these adolescent
thoroughbreds—ambling and lurching in
pairs or threes, in sets of two dozen—clos-
er to the denouement of a gamble. If the
