I was there when he finally got his individual gold. All week I’d been there for all the preliminary steps to get into the finals. They make such a big deal about the mountains in the background because one could not even see them all week for the smog. So, it was shocking to see them, and SO close, on that beautiful day. And Klimke had stood out from all the others all week, right on up to his gold medal — which he won on the strength of all the earlier performances that brought him there — because his seat almost never veered off the ideal [gotta use Dujardin to show that] — not going stiff or lax, and all of his aids had been invisible until that final performance.
Quite nearly uniformly impeccable.
I rode horses like that — for hunters and jumpers — just did not have the patience, or the taste for the insufferably snooty, it takes to fare well in dressage. The horses need the dressage moves to perform well in hunters and jumpers, so I’ve known about it my whole life. I’ve seen so many of the all time greats, and literally from the sublime to the ridiculously-boring and clumsy, but I never lost my heart to it until I saw the Iberian horses FINALLY barge into the snoot-fest to compete.
They were not so impeccably-seated — I’m going with “artistically-seated” — here you see Juanma’s aids not even a little concealed. He’s very busy up there. Indisputably impeccable, too, completely unhidden as they are. He’s up there like a conductor of music and marching. He wants Fuego to puff out his great chest and prance as though to ascend a stairway to heaven, so Juanma draws himself up like that and Fuego instantly responds. He wants bounce, he bounces, and Fuego bounces. That horse was tuned to Juanma and having himself a Spanish dancing stallion strut straight into our horsey hearts.
Just stunning, and SO fun. For Juanma. For Fuego. For us. I’ve seen that 2010 WEG performance now at least a thousand times, and I cry every time. If I remember correctly, that was the first time they’d come to America, and though only coming in second — visible aids dock points — they stole that show. Juanma was so obviously elated because he felt our gleeful, loudly appreciative, spiritual participation. The crowd did literally go wild.
Klimke had elicited a sort of hushed expression of collective awe. A sort of hum or murmur. Living proof the horse can feel even the most subtle shifts in our muscle contractions and respond to them. Thus, if you have discovered, and honed, the most effective equitation, the contact itself imparts to the horse what is wanted, and they give it willingly IF you DESERVE it.
It always, always, always shows when it isn’t willing cooperation with the rider, and points drop off the judges’ cards left, right, up, down and center — assuming judging in the ideal. Hard to find one without [very often paid] bias and [creepy political] moods. That is why I even shaved off the working hunters classes to compete only in open jumper classes.
They CANNOT get away with those biases and moods when it’s purely extremely evident faults can count against you. No room for opinion, or corruption, or attitude to mark one down. I have HATED competition since very early childhood. I loved horse shows just for the part about everyone coming out to do their best, just to be around my peers — for the love of the sport, so to speak.
In fact, I sometimes fantasize about getting a wheelchair with off road treads so I could go out and teach people how to ride. I could just roll out there to the center of the arena with a buggy whip prop and make sure they know and drill the perfect seat to elicit the perfect performances.
the nines 