When Mariette Withages, chairman of the FEI Dressage Committee, arrived in Jerez, Spain, for last month’s World Equestrian Games, the International Olympic Committee members who were there had but one question for her about dressage: “Is the same old gang going to medal?”

No great friends of equine sports in general, they obviously view our activities as superfluous, concluding that the outcome is given. Mrs. Withages informed the IOC officials that there are new, strong forces on the move in dressage and suggested they “stand by” until after the awards.

And, indeed, a new era dawned for dressage during these games. We Americans believed that we had a strong and unusually even team representing us (so strong that our highest-scoring team member from the 2000 Olympics’ Christine Traurig’was our alternate) and, of course, we had a good reading on the status of the other teams.

So we knew that there was a chance the U.S. team could attain a silver medal, but we also knew how things can change from moment to moment whenever you deal with horses. This time, though, the specter of bad luck visited other teams and left us alone.

It seems our horses paid their various dues of colic, heaves and hitches at the selection trials in June, which, therefore, served their purpose as a dress rehearsal.

But the Dutch team was less fortunate. In the vet check, their strongest pair, Ellen Bontje and Silvano, were rejected. Later, in the Special, Ferro showed some uncharacteristic mouth problems and irregularity in his trot for Coby van Baalen, and consequently she withdrew him from the freestyle. Anky van Grunsven was mounted on the fabulous but inexperienced stallion Krack C, and not even her extraordinary riding skills could keep all that exuberance and testosterone on track in the Grand Prix.

Yes, we knew there was a window of opportunity for another team to step into the silver spot, but we could hear the Spanish squad rattling their curb chains, especially since we were on their turf.

When the German riders and coaches began gathering around to watch our team’s schooling sessions, our riders knew something had changed. And when the Germans hurried to watch their rides, our guys smiled. Yes, something was happening.

The draw for the Grand Prix put the Americans right after the Germans. This ended up being to our advantage, since the judges could immediately compare the “state of the nations.”

Sue Blinks went first with Flim Flam, and she led the way with style. The softness, the suppleness, the complete harmony this pair exhibited was a joy to watch. After a brief hesitation outside the arena, Flim Flam appeared to relax, focus and say, “Let’s go, Sue!”

When these two are “on,” as they were in the Grand Prix and the Special, they appear to exist in their own world, like lovers do. With one exception, the judges showed their appreciation for the total connection that Sue and Flim Flam have established. In the freestyle’s electric atmosphere, under the lights and a full house of spectators, the pair had some cell-phone moments of “do you hear me now?” but overall this combination served up the essence of dressage: a show of complete harmony.

Close to the end of day 1’right after fabulous Farbenfroh (who actually had a somewhat conservative go with an unsteady and crooked piaffe and a tendency to get behind the leg)’five feet of determination and skill mounted on 16.2 hands of mare with workmanlike attitude entered the arena. Brentina was on the job, and Debbie McDonald as always made a great foreman.

A more honest, precise and “through” ride is hard to imagine. The only small flaw I could detect was a somewhat labored half-pass to the right. The passage and piaffe tour was so smooth and simple-looking that there couldn’t have been any tension involved. The transitions were seamless, and Brentina doesn’t appear to care a fig whether you ask her for 12 steps of piaffe or 112. She’ll depart at Debbie’s desire.

Later, when I spoke to Debbie, she said that the piaffe and passage are her favorite test movements. Not many of us can say that and mean it.

When the collected walk gave me goose bumps because it was so active, so pure, so elastic and so steady in the bridle, I became a bit worried about my mental state. Only a true dressage nerd can thrill to a collected walk!

Guenter Seidel on Nikolaus 7 started day 2 off for us. I watched their practice session the day before, and it was evident that Guenter was worried about the tempi changes. Carefully and patiently, he repeated the two-tempis until the horse offered them without hiccups. In the test, he got them fine, but instead there was a small mistake in the ones. The left pirouette was a bit flat and lost the rhythm, and the piaffe tended to become hectic. But the trot work was brilliant, and Guenter guided his sometimes difficult mount through the test with his usual tact and skill.

Their score was just below 70 percent, but when you listened to the alarmed questions from the American press waiting outside the arena, you might have thought the score was below 60 percent. While the journalists were wailing and clucking and wanting to know “what went wrong?” Guenter looked somewhat confused, which I can certainly understand. How quickly we forget that, only yesterday, 70 percent would make us do cartwheels from elation and that with such a score a lot of things must have “gone right.”

Our last team member to go was our secret weapon, one fairly unfamiliar to American spectators because she’s been living and working in Germany for years. Lisa Wilcox was my scribe and “caretaker” when I judged the Hamburg Derby (Germany) some years ago, just at the time when she was about to start riding for Gestut Vorwerk, which supplies her with horses. In addition to being lovely to look at, I found Lisa to be a generous person full of positive energy, and she sure is a heck of a rider!

She and her chestnut stallion, Relevant, are a gorgeous combination, and they looked quite poised and unconcerned when they entered the arena as Rusty and Ulla Salzgeber exited.

Lisa displayed fluidity and absolute control over frame and balance in all of her rides. And she and her horse remained completely cool throughout their performances, save once when the setting sun threw a ray over the ring and Relevant curled up and half-reared in the piaffe, as well as on the last centerline in the Special, when things got a little rocky. His pirouettes were amazing: engaged, perfectly in balance, with the horse’s back as supple as a cat’s. Their piaffe is a true balancing act, the kind of display of sitting and articulation of every joint that holds you in suspense, because it tests the limits of possibility in the movement. While it is beautiful to watch, you almost want it to stop before something ruins the picture.

The American team was awesome in their even and confident presentation. Chef d’Equipe Jessica Ransehousen praised them as a group that was highly supportive of each other, gracious and sportsmanlike in all situations.

Watching our team receive their first silver medal ever in the World Championships (the last one in the Olympics was in 1948) was a fantastic feeling, and, because it was so well deserved, the possibilities for the future are exhilarating. With just a few minor adjustments, it could become gold, and everybody knows it.

Brentina and Debbie went on to repeat their outstanding performance twice more, culminating in a fabulous freestyle with exceptionally difficult choreography and not a foot out of place. After that feat, we fully expected an individual medal for Debbie. But by that time it was back to dressage as usual. Rusty was awarded the bronze with only one truly clean go, while the Spanish favorite, Beatriz Ferrer-Salat, fought bravely on a horse that, by freestyle time, was fairly tired and strung-out, to climb into silver position.

While waiting for the awards ceremony for the individual medals, Debbie and Lisa were still excited to be fourth and fifth. Sue Blinks was philosophical, as she pointed out that this is a new beginning and that we have to be patient and gradually work our way up.

Two days later, when Debbie and her husband were boarding the plane in Madrid, the smiles were gone and they looked tired. Of course Debbie knows she and Brentina can do it again. But she also knows, as all riders do, that tomorrow is always uncertain with horses. Delayed gratification is both educating and character-building, but there is also a lot to be said for getting your deserved rewards at that moment when everything gels, not at some later point when the feeling is gone.