This veteran hunter judge shares the thoughts he has while judging and the experiences that have shaped his philosophy on the job.

In discussion with Chronicle writer Mollie Bailey after the USEF Pony Finals (Ky.), I thought it might be helpful to express my perspective on judging and how I arrive at my decisions.

By year’s end, I will have officiated at approximately 23 events, ranging from one non-rated show to major competitions such as Devon (Pa.), USEF Pony Finals, USEF Junior Hunter Finals–West (Calif.) and the Pennsylvania National. Obviously this represents a significant amount of my time and income, so people’s impression of me, and for that matter, of my colleagues and our ability to do the job, our impartiality and our integrity, matters. It matters to us personally, and it matters to the sport.

Judging is a subjective enterprise, and everyone brings to it their background—their likes, dislikes, preferences and priorities. In my own case, I operated my own training stable for almost 30 years. After struggling in the beginning as many do, I started to achieve a consistent level of success on a national level. I don’t say that to boast, only to state my credentials. I believe my ability to produce winners gives me the ability to recognize them when I see them.

My parents provided a wonderful upbringing for me and my five siblings, and we lacked for nothing. However we did not have the resources for me to train or compete at the top level. You might say I came up the hard way, and it was quite an education. On the rare occasion when, as a young professional in Monmouth County, N.J., I would attend an A show, I felt out of my element. It felt like a very clubby atmosphere, and I was definitely not in the club. There were far fewer shows than now and far fewer judges. Things then, at least it seemed to me, gave the impression of “the good old boys” network. It was difficult for a young, unknown trainer and his students to break in to win at the top level, no matter how well our horses went or our riders performed.

I stuck with it, and as I produced better animals and better riders the winning eventually came easier. But I used to tell myself that if I ever became a judge, my results would always be fair, and I would never let anything—not friendships, business deals or intimidation—affect my objectivity. I still ascribe to that way of thinking today.

Breaking Into The Top

I had a big break when I found a great pre-green horse, Calling Card, for one of my pony riders, Jennifer Cronin, for $15,000. I convinced her mother to buy it by telling her I wouldn’t charge her to ride it or train it; she would just have to pay board. It turned out to be a really nice horse, and Jennifer started riding it the next year. She was an accurate rider, and they did a lot of winning until we got to indoors. It was the same cast of characters as always, and even though that horse was a great jumper and a beautiful mover and Jen rode beautifully, it couldn’t even get a ribbon in the under saddle.

Her mother sat me down afterwards and said she didn’t know if she wanted to do it again—but if she did, she wanted to go to a bigger name trainer. I convinced her to stick with me. We finally broke through one class in Florida. No one knew who we were, but she walked in that ring and had a beautiful round. I’ll never forget, it was Joey Darby judging, and he put her on top. She’d won plenty before, but it was the first class she’d won in a major atmosphere. Joey was a rider who judged, and he thought her round was the best.

After that, things started happening for all of us. The next year, in 1986, Calling Card was small junior champion at Madison Square Garden, and we eventually sold that horse for $250,000.

When I started in the sport, I witnessed and experienced some blatant cheating, at local shows all the way up to Harrisburg. While I believed that most people tried to do the best job they could, there were a few who didn’t seem to play by the rules. Unfortunately some of these characters seemed to turn up judging major shows. There were people who bought a horse from certain judges every year just as an insurance policy.

It’s a terrible feeling, when you put a lot of work into training a really quality horse and/or rider, getting qualified for a major show like the Garden or Harrisburg, and you get there and feel like you have no chance. That was so discouraging, not just to myself at that time but I’m sure to everyone else.

The atmosphere at horse shows is different now. My experience has been that in this age of communication, the cheating we used to see has disappeared. With cell phones and faxes and the Internet, news travels quickly. If the judge does a bad job, everyone knows quickly, so there’s a greater degree of accountability.

These days, the pros are better educated. Back in the day, there was an elite group of fewer than 15 people who could judge. Now there’s any number of capable people, and many are asked to judge. This is great for the sport. It means that one week you’re judging someone’s horse, and the next week you see them in the schooling area, and the next week maybe they’re judging your horse. This calls for greater accountability.

Also, show managers are more careful today. They’re more in tune to hiring people they think have integrity and are competent. They know their customers have choices, and they won’t attend their shows if there’s a poor judge. It’s much different than in the old days.

I recognize the amount of time and treasure people devote in order to participate in this sport. I am passionate that people must believe in the integrity of the judges. That doesn’t mean that they must agree with us all the time, but in order for the sport to continue, participants must be confident that they are getting a competent, fair and objective opinion.

I don’t keep up with the results myself. If I didn’t judge the show, I don’t know who won where. I don’t even subscribe to the Chronicle. You could say my mind is an open book—some would say it’s just empty. When I’m judging, I’m not looking down at that in-gate. I don’t care if Santa Claus is down there. I’m looking for the best rounds from the best horses over the course.

Also, as I said earlier, judges bring their backgrounds to the job, their life experiences, not just their equestrian lives. I am a father of three; I like children, and I cannot imagine doing anything to cheat anyone else’s child out of something they deserve. Furthermore, as a horseman, I recognize that every time I sit in the judge’s box I’m being judged by my friends, colleagues and fellow horsemen. I want to be sure that they can follow my thinking, even if they don’t always agree. I don’t want them to go away thinking I am incompetent, corrupt or just plain hopeless. I’d like to think I’ve gotten the jobs I have because people think I have integrity.

Educating Our Customers

In today’s competition the overall quality of the horses and riders is at an all-time high. I continue to be impressed each new year. The quality of the shows is also at an all-time high, with better footing, better schedules and more professional staff.

Our customers—exhibitors—are also better educated than ever before. Now most pony mothers and fathers can spot a late change, a missed distance, a rub and a swap-off. The problem is that most of them don’t have the background to place those mistakes in the context of a given class. We professionals must explain that showing hunters is not like showing jumpers, where the least amount of faults wins.

We must explain to our exhibitors that many factors go into producing the final score: presence (looks), movement, scope and jumping style. A horse or pony possessing all those qualities is often going to beat an animal of lesser quality, even when the finer one makes a small mistake. As judges we are supposed to reward the animal with the most overall quality and its performance relative to the other animals in the class.

We have to acknowledge that every pony that walks into the ring isn’t capable of getting the same score as every other pony. The better animals do better because there are fewer of them, and therefore they cost more. Cost doesn’t necessarily make them better animals—the qualities they possess make them better.

What might be a great score for one pony would not meet the expectations of another pony’s connections. Maybe you have a pony that jumps every fence with its belly an inch from the top rail, and it has to go a little faster to make the strides. If the child doesn’t make any mistakes, and the pony has no rubs and no errors, it can score a 78. That’s a great score for that pony. However, a pony who possesses more of the good qualities we mentioned above may be capable of earning a score as high as 100.

This is a downside to the numerical scoring system. The proponents of that system think that announcing a score will make the system seem fairer, but I haven’t found that. There are some people who, no matter what, will approach this sport with a chip on their shoulder. These people will never be convinced that the judging is impartial, no matter what system we use.

A superior quality pony can come in the ring and have a small mistake and still score well. In a really good class where lots of top ponies are having fantastic trips, that small mistake would be more of a factor in his final placing. But if the quality of the rounds aren’t fantastic, that very good round with the small mistake can still win.

The term “overall quality” gives us judges some leeway. Remember we are not just scoring, as they do in jumpers: We are scoring and judging. That does not mean we have carte blanche to do whatever we’d like. I have never won a class with a knockdown, no matter how nice a horse.

There are those who say this sport is only for the elite. I can tell people that I bought a horse for $15,000 that was champion at the National (N.Y.), Devon (Pa.), Pennsylvania National and the Winter Equestrian Festival (Fla.), and she got a ribbon at the ASPCA Maclay Finals, too. I’m not saying it’s easy or even possible all the time, but for those willing to work hard enough and be creative, the cream will always find a way to the top.

An Honest Effort

This spring I was honored to be one of the judges in the pony ring at Devon (Pa.). It was a particular honor to be paired with Thom Brede, a man of great reputation and stature in the judging fraternity. Thom has probably judged more horse shows and done a better job consistently than anyone else in this country. We were both impressed with the ponies and their riders. We also got to judge three sections of the Pessoa/USEF Medal, where again we witnessed some outstanding performances. We had to work hard, pay close attention and discuss our results thoroughly.

At no time in our deliberations did we discuss the price of an animal, its past performances or its current trainer. The only things that factored into our decisions were the animal and/or its rider and its performance in that class and where its round belonged in our final result.

I believe that is how most of the people judging today approach the job. No agendas, hidden or otherwise, just an honest effort to get the right results. It’s not personal. Too often, the judges are made scapegoats for the inabilities of trainers or riders who do not measure up to the bar. It’s sometimes easier to blame “politics” (whatever that is) than to admit you picked an inferior animal or that your rider needs more work.

In fairness, sometimes mistakes are made. After all, at some point you have to look down and mark your card. Invariably that will be the time something goes wrong, you miss it, and everyone else sees it. When that happens, those stories can follow you for a long time and can make you feel really foolish.

That happened to me the first time I judged the Hampton Classic (N.Y.), and I’ll never forget it. I was judging an open equitation on the flat class. I picked the winner, then stopped watching her as closely as I was trying to figure out the other nine placings. When they announced the results, no one clapped. Someone said to me, “Didn’t you see her on the wrong lead?” These mistakes are embarrassing, but they’re going to happen occasionally because nobody’s perfect.

The former mayor of New York, Ed Koch, used to ask citizens, “How am I doing?” Then he would tell them that if they thought he was right in seven out of 10 issues they should support him. I believe the same holds true for judging. No one’s going to agree with us all the time, but if most of the time you agree with us, then we must be doing a good job, because no one’s perfect.

If, on the other hand, there are judges you think never get it right, you should always consult a prize list before entering. If one of those people is listed, then in fairness to both of you, you should not show. You would have known ahead of time that the individual was going to be there; he probably had no idea you were coming.

All of us who judge strive to be honest, straightforward and unbiased. We ask that exhibitors try to view us in the same light.

Before Leo Conroy sold Leo Conroy Stables six years ago, he trained top hunters like Overdressed, Southern Lights, Calling Card, Socca Mood, So No Wonder, Classic and Mimosa. Since earning his “R” rating 25 years ago, he’s officiated at the Pessoa/USEF Medal Finals (Pa.), ASPCA Maclay Finals (N.Y.), USEF Talent Search Finals–East and –West, USEF Junior Hunter Finals–East and –West, USEF Pony Finals (Ky.) (four times), Devon (Pa.) (three times), the Pennsylvania National, Washington International (D.C.) (three times), National Horse Show (N.Y.) (two times), Royal Winter Fair (Ont.) and the Dublin Horse Show (Ireland). He’ll be officiating at the Pennsylvania National this year. He lives in Wellington, Fla.