Last Sunday, Feb. 28, in Ocala, I got to watch the $75,000 Strongid C 2X Grand Prix. With 20 participants and six horse-and-rider teams making it to the jump-off, it was an exciting afternoon.

We were thrilled to watch Tracy Fenney show MTM Centano. We had the pleasure of meeting her because the MTM stalls were just a few tent rows down from ours. She was with her husband, (I assume), and the two of them were so nice. They invited us—mom, two girls and the trainer—to come try out their horses, only half-jokingly asking the girls to help exercise their horses because they didn’t have enough riders.

Unfortunately, Tracy had 4 faults and didn’t make it to the jump-off. The six who did make it included Kirk Webby on Hennessey, Andre Thieme made it to the jump-off on two mounts: Aragon Rouet and Cesar, Megan Edrick aboard Cadence, David Jennings on Marcus Aurelius and Harold Chopping on Little Glen’s Valentino. It was a pleasure to watch an exuberant Andre Thieme, age 34, claim the victory aboard Cesar and the winner’s purse of $22,500.

That Sunday, as is tradition, the majority of riders in the jumper rings wore white breeches. Thanking the high heavens that I didn’t have to subject anyone in the vicinity to the sight of me in white breeches, I remembered a story from a dear friend, whose anonymity I will protect due to the graphic and humiliating nature of this story.

She was preparing to show in the jumper ring on a Sunday and had purchased her first pair of white breeches the previous week. She hadn’t really given any thought to undergarments until the morning of the show. Rushing out the door, she grabbed her Spanx body suit, confident that she would be “covered.”

About an hour before she got on to warm up, she visited the port-a-potty. She had to jerry rig her Spanx bodysuit in order to accomplish the task. Assured she had cleared a path, she did her business and began to put herself back together. But alas, the path was not clear, and now not only her Spanx, but also her brand new white breeches were soaked and yellow.

Time was now of the essence, so she went back to her trailer and stripped. Having removed the wet Spanx, she was now in need of not just panties, but also a bra. She placed the breeches on the truck heater and was able to get them dry enough. She was able to borrow her groom’s bra, but the generous college kid drew the line at loaning panties. The decision was made to go commando.

My friend had just enough time to get on, jump a few warm-up jumps and go in the ring. Things felt a little, um, different, which she had expected as it was her first time showing sans-panties, but she was confused by the breezy sensation. Upon exiting the ring after a less-than-stellar round, the groom told her they must return to the trailer immediately. Confused, my friend protested, but the groom insisted. Once she dismounted at the trailer, my friend was told that the seat of her white breeches had split, and she had indeed given more of a show in the ring than she intended.

Laugh or cry? She chose to laugh. Long and hard. Then quickly packed up her trailer and called it a day.

To make sure this doesn’t happen to you, read Cornelia van Schaik’s excellent article, What’s Under Your Breeches?