PrintThe writer has a unique perspective on the serious responsibilities that every upper-level rider must assume.
I feel like 250,000 people out there are yelling that our sport is bad, and there are about 250 riders saying it’s not the sport that’s a problem, it’s individuals. And we’re whispering, and we’re not being heard.
Every article you pick up, every outside influence, is saying that we need to change the sport—we’ve got to make it safer, we’ve got to do all these things. To me it really isn’t the sport that needs to change, it’s the way the sport is being played. You can’t make enough rules to make somebody think.
For instance at Rolex Kentucky, what prompted Emilee Libby to pull up at Fence 7A and not continue? Was it the fact that she had a bad fall or had seen a bad fall? What made her make that decision? That was the best piece of horsemanship I saw all weekend.
The first thing we have to do is stop looking to the organizations—the U.S. Eventing Association or U.S. Equestrian Federation—and stop looking to rule changes, and accept personal responsibility.
It’s like when you stop at a stoplight and the light turns green. Do you just take off, or do you look left and look right before you take off and make sure no one else is coming the other way? I mean, I look both ways before I go. That’s the kind of personal responsibility that we need to take at this level.
At lower levels, it’s different. We’re working with the Instructor Certification Program, and everyone’s
trying to up the standards at the lower levels. But at the top, you’ve gotten there. And you need to have some self-awareness, self-preservation.
In the races, at Saratoga [N.Y.] one year, there were some rumors that the officials wanted to take the
second fence off the backside because that’s where most of the falls occur. But then the falls are just going to happen at the next fence, because everybody is making a move there. They can’t keep changing the sport. Riders who aren’t paying attention are going to keep finding ways to fall.
Learning From Tragedy
I lost my wife Amanda at an event 10 years ago. Let’s use her example as a teaching tool. She made a mistake. I made a mistake, and the sport didn’t make a mistake.
By pushing so hard to achieve goals, we’re pushing right past the point. Do you know why Amanda didn’t make the team? Because she didn’t live long enough. Because she pushed so hard to get there that she died in the process. It’s horrible and it’s tragic, but it wasn’t the sport’s fault. Nobody made her run that horse. I never told her not to run the horse. We sat at home and tried to figure out how to make the horse go better instead of saying maybe this horse isn’t an advanced horse. Maybe he’s good at the intermediate level.
I feel like 250,000 people out there are yelling that our sport is bad, and there are about 250 riders saying it’s not the sport that’s a problem, it’s individuals. And we’re whispering, and we’re not being heard.
Every article you pick up, every outside influence, is saying that we need to change the sport—we’ve got to make it safer, we’ve got to do all these things. To me it really isn’t the sport that needs to change, it’s the way the sport is being played. You can’t make enough rules to make somebody think.
For instance at Rolex Kentucky, what prompted Emilee Libby to pull up at Fence 7A and not continue? Was it the fact that she had a bad fall or had seen a bad fall? What made her make that decision? That was the best piece of horsemanship I saw all weekend.
The first thing we have to do is stop looking to the organizations—the U.S. Eventing Association or U.S. Equestrian Federation—and stop looking to rule changes, and accept personal responsibility.
It’s like when you stop at a stoplight and the light turns green. Do you just take off, or do you look left and look right before you take off and make sure no one else is coming the other way? I mean, I look both ways before I go. That’s the kind of personal responsibility that we need to take at this level.
At lower levels, it’s different. We’re working with the Instructor Certification Program, and everyone’s
trying to up the standards at the lower levels. But at the top, you’ve gotten there. And you need to have some self-awareness, self-preservation.
In the races, at Saratoga [N.Y.] one year, there were some rumors that the officials wanted to take the
second fence off the backside because that’s where most of the falls occur. But then the falls are just going to happen at the next fence, because everybody is making a move there. They can’t keep changing the sport. Riders who aren’t paying attention are going to keep finding ways to fall.
Learning From Tragedy
I lost my wife Amanda at an event 10 years ago. Let’s use her example as a teaching tool. She made a mistake. I made a mistake, and the sport didn’t make a mistake.
By pushing so hard to achieve goals, we’re pushing right past the point. Do you know why Amanda didn’t make the team? Because she didn’t live long enough. Because she pushed so hard to get there that she died in the process. It’s horrible and it’s tragic, but it wasn’t the sport’s fault. Nobody made her run that horse. I never told her not to run the horse. We sat at home and tried to figure out how to make the horse go better instead of saying maybe this horse isn’t an advanced horse. Maybe he’s good at the intermediate level.
