This year I’ve been “back in the trenches,” showing more seriously than in the last few years, when I judged CDIs and high-performance qualifying competitions and, therefore, could not compete in those classes.

I went through the whole drill again this year, and I loved most of it! It may be a good ego trip to sit at home and pat the horse you’re training on the neck and yourself on the back, but it’s only in competition you can truly assess what you and the horse have accomplished and where you need to improve.

So here are a few things I’d like to pass on to you, show managers. Most of you have a complete handle on them, but some details may bear repeating. And perhaps new show managers can avoid some pitfalls.

First of all, competitors understand that show secretaries are overworked and sometimes stressed out as the show draws near. We know they have to deal with the same paperwork we do, and we’re willing to pay the fees. For that there is MasterCard, but a friendly show secretary is priceless!

A welcoming and helpful voice answering your questions on the phone makes you happy to load the horses and head for the event. When you get there, a well-organized show office is a real bonus, especially when you need to retrieve the horses’ numbers before you can start schooling.

But before we even get that far, we face the stabling. Most large shows have a stabling office and a person to direct you to your barn. This is a tremendous help after a long trip, so that the horses can be unloaded swiftly and allowed to roll, drink and rest.

Arriving at dusk at an unfamiliar venue with not a person in sight, no clearly posted directions, and no signs on the stable doors is a nightmare–and it still happens.

Please be sure the people in charge of stabling have their act together before the first horse shows up.

And we really like to have our stalls clean and shavings available for purchase, at least during daytime.

Sometimes tent stabling, although nobody’s first choice, is unavoidable. But we deal with it a lot better if outlets for water and electricity are easily available and the aisles aren’t so narrow that the stall doors catch the horses in the hip every time they go in or out. It’s when parts of the stalls are missing or need repair that we become difficult dressage queens.

A word about the warm-up: It’s ideal if the footing in the competition ring and the warm-up are identical, and most of the time it is. But even if they’re a bit different in texture, it’s workable, as long as there’s enough space to work and a reasonably quiet atmosphere.

We just don’t like being crowded, since it disturbs the horse’s concentration when you have to make sliding stops to avoid traffic. A practice dressage arena is always appreciated, but if that diminishes the space available, I prefer no arena. And, please, no chains.

At all international shows I’ve ridden in and judged in Europe, the competitors are allowed to ride in the main ring, often both the day before and early on the show morning. Again, most large and established shows in this country have the same policy, but not all.

Some just let you around the ring with no opportunity to go inside; others charge for the privilege.

I understand your grooming and organizing problem, but it ought to be every rider’s right to school in the actual competition ring, within your time limits. We’ve all been on horses who need to improve their “comfort level” in a new environment, horses who see monsters everywhere and ruin the test with tension if they can’t become familiar with the ring.

We give brownie points for watering and dragging the rings with regularity. That’s essential to keep the horses sound and performing at their optimum, and for your show’s general impression. Rain in large quantities is a real headache, but rings that are too dry are inexcusable. What looks worse than a beautifully turned-out dressage horse and rider performing with a cloud of dust following them?

Concessions are a great addition to any show, and we all welcome a shopping break to collect all the things we forgot at home in the way of tack and equipment. But, please, think hard about where you put them.

At one recent show, the vendors were situated literally on top of the rings, and at another there was an unavoidable path almost all
horses had to pass through between the vendors’ stalls and the rings. Some confused and startled horses leaped over the fence onto a bank separating the path from the rings.

Having horses (both ridden and led), golf carts, bicycles, pedestrians and vendors all in a jolly mix just didn’t do it for me. Some of the vendors admitted it was a bit close for comfort for them too.

Finally, a word about the announcer. A beautiful voice, clear diction and good intentions are all wonderful qualities, but it takes a little more: Knowledge of the game and the players. When riders’ names and their horses’ names are repeatedly mispronounced, it just starts gritting on you. After a couple of days, you wish there would just be silence.

It’s true that some of us have funky European names for our horses, but most of them came that way (so did we). If you want to announce at a dressage show, take the short German course or corral one of the dressage cronies, sit them down with the list of “unpronounceables,” and write down the phonetics.

And please, announcers, learn that a score of 46 percent is not something any rider wants to hear announced over and over again in great and glorious detail. Some things are better not said. And, having said that, I’ll say no more.

Well, maybe just one more thing: Competitors are grateful to all our American managers for repeatedly putting on the productions that allow us to have a place to showcase our horses, and meet up with each other. We hope there will be even more brave people joining the ranks in the future.

Thanks for listening,
Anne