AIKEN, S.C. – He was one of the most beloved horses in the world. Aiken Cura, owned by top-ranked polo player Adolfo Cambiaso, was strong and sleek and swift – so much that he was known even beyond his sport's elite circles. And then during one match in Argentina in 2006, the stallion broke down. Cambiaso cried as the ambulance took him away. Aiken Cura was fitted with a prosthesis, but in 2007 he had to be put down. And that, many thought, would be the last time the world would see the likes of Aiken Cura.

But on a blistering summer day here in this quiet patch of countryside, a huge wooden gate opens to reveal a winding roadway through hundreds of acres of rolling land. The plot is dotted by ponies that roam in packs. One of them trots gallantly in the shade of a gathering of trees. He has a light brown coat speckled with white dots. To most, he looks like just another horse. But to the truest polo fans, and to Cambiaso himself, he is unmistakable.

This is Aiken Cura's clone.

There are 11 other clones here as well, all less than a year old and all bred for polo. Aiken Cura's son lives a few miles away from here and has run with the identical twin of his dead father.

The owner of this farm, a man named Alan Meeker, is in business with Cambiaso and has other clones in Argentina. Two of them, he says, are genetic replicas of top thoroughbreds. They are almost three years old, and Meeker says they run "like the wind."

Americans don't care much for polo, but the success of Meeker and Cambiaso's cloning venture may have huge implications for what was once one of the most popular sports in America – horse racing. There has been a subtle shift in perception of cloned horses worldwide, underscored last week when Federation Equestre Internationale (FEI), the international equestrian governing body, reversed an earlier ban on clones in competition.

Though it's too late for any cloned horses to be entered in the London Games, clones will be allowed to participate in the Olympics beginning in 2016. The FEI's decision is based on the belief that clones are not 100 percent identical and also that the rider and environment make a difference in a horse's performance.

"The current state of science suggests it would be difficult to produce a clone with the exact same attributes as the original," says Doug Antczak, a veterinary scientist at Cornell University. "Even if we could produce and exact copy, once it's born, then it's going to have a different environment and it would be very hard to duplicate the entire raising of the animal."

So the thinking is there's no such thing as an exact clone, just like there's no such thing as an exact identical twin. "Therefore," Dr. Graeme Cooke, the FEI's veterinary director, told ABC News, "we came to the conclusion that there were so many variables there were no unfair advantages that were contrary to the spirit of sport."

This reasoning, however, does not mean cloning will be allowed in thoroughbred racing, at least not in the short term. The Jockey Club, the organization dedicated to maintaining the integrity of horse racing, won't even acknowledge a clone, let alone allow it into a race.

"Cloning or any other form of genetic manipulation shall not be eligible for registration," the Jockey Club rules state. Bob Curran, spokesman for the Jockey Club, says this is "for the long-term health of the breed."

Most (if not all) thoroughbred racing experts agree with the policy.

"Anybody can clone Secretariat," says Dan Rosenberg of Three Chimneys Farm in Lexington. "Not everyone can breed Secretariat. It takes a lot of fun out of it – a lot of the intrigue. How much fun is it to watch and bet on a race when all 20 starters are Seattle Slew clones? How much fun is it when everybody on the course is Tiger Woods? To me, that's not fun."

And yet horse racing seems to become less and less fun by the year. I'll Have Another's stirring bid for the Triple Crown was marred not only by his pre-Belmont Stakes breakdown but the reports that he had a litany of medical ailments. The hope of seeing another Secretariat now seems as remote as the hope of seeing another time when horse racing is America's premier sport. Meeker, the man who owns this farm, is a polo fan first. But if given the chance, he would not hesitate to clone one of the world's famous thoroughbreds.

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