Rubén Galloso, a phenomenal jockey and a cornerstone of a golden era in racing

Nicknamed "The Poet of the Whip," the legendary jockey passed away Saturday at 72, leaving behind a thousand stories and a rare, masterful talent

Rubén Galloso and Ganem celebrate their iconic victory in the Clásico 9 de Julio, in 1992 / FACEBOOK

SOUTH OZONE PARK, NY (Special to Turf Diario)— Rubén Darío Galloso has passed away. And with him, one of those voices that didn’t need to shout to be heard during the run has been extinguished. The "Poeta de la Fusta"(Poet of the Whip) is gone—an epithet that today carries a necessary nostalgia. He didn’t just ride horses; he accompanied them, convinced them, and, above all, understood them like few others in that golden generation that filled the programs of the 70s, 80s, and 90s.

For those with graying hair at the walking ring, his name was synonymous with "silk hands." Galloso was the jockey who transformed the tension of the final furlong into a well-written verse. His nickname was no coincidence: there was a lyricism in his posture, in his way of hiding the wind from his rivals, and in that millimetric sense of timing that is no longer common to find.

His career is marked by triumphs that are now part of the sacred archives of Argentine elevage. He was the partner of an unforgettable miler like Hackman (Hall of Arts), and also the man who best understood Ganem (Fitzcarraldo),with whom he won the Gran Premio 9 de Julio (G1) in 1992. He guided Irina (Ringaro) in the first Gran Premio Estrellas Juvenile Fillies (G1), and Kapela (Harper) when the Rosario-based mare took the Eliseo Ramírez (G1) in 1989.

Yoel (Yankee Clipper), Santángelo (Snow Paramount), Halcón Guapo (Wohlgemuth), Fan Toss (Egg Toss), Gap (Fort de France), Señor Feudal (Bold Forli), Clavija (Cipayo), and Spazio (Farnesio)—so many were the Thoroughbreds that enjoyed his unique skill.

Galloso bid farewell to the tracks on April 17, 1999, when he had already lost his taste for his life's profession. Bold,skillful, and bohemian, he was one of those who let no detail escape. He tried his hand at training a few years later, but the experience lasted only a sigh, achieving just one victory with his name appearing on the right side of the program.

Galloso was a "surgeon of the stirrup." He wasn't one to simply pile up horses; he was one who looked for the gap with the precision of a goldsmith. In an interview rescued by time, Rubén himself recalled how he would deceive his rivals—figures of the stature of Vilmar Sanguinetti or Jorge Valdivieso—by showing them the inside path only to leap outside with an agility that caught even the most experienced off guard.

He was a "black palate" rider, deeply loved by the public, who admired him and also suffered because of him. He understood that the whip was a resource, not an obligation. His departure, after fighting a harsh illness for several months, leaves a massive void and a thousand untold anecdotes. A man who lived the racing world of cold dawns,manual stopwatches, and the "word of honor" at the scales has left us.

Today, at Palermo, San Isidro, or La Plata, the wind will surely blow a bit stronger on the backstretch. It is the Poet saying goodbye, seeking his final late run, whip under his arm,