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By Root 1207 0

holders as they passed. The seats rose almost straight up, creating the effect that the spectators were seated on top of the ring. The lighting was strange—spotlights from different angles cast unexpected shadows—and the press box was stuffed with photographers, whose flashes popped frequently, punctuating the night. Even the most seasoned horse show competitor, man or beast, felt the pressure. Competing well required both nerves of steel and a relationship between horse and rider so profound that the horse could follow the rider’s commands even through the panoply of distractions.

Upstairs now, in the waiting aisle for the night class, Sinjon vibrated like a live wire under Harry’s seat. Harry let the horse walk, knowing how much he hated to stand still. The bay chomped nervously on his bit and flicked his ears back whenever he got close to the other horses.

Sinjon had performed well in the outdoor horse shows, but those had been big, rangy courses where horses could gallop freely and had plenty of room. At the outdoor shows, spectators were decorous and distractions frowned upon. The fences were lower in the green hunter classes that Sinjon had entered—with the object to show off a horse’s beauty and style. Here, in this small, cramped ring with tight corners and short approaches to towering fences, Harry couldn’t be sure what his horse would do. An attempt to get Sinjon’s owner to see the horse’s potential as a jumper, it had been a gamble to come here—Harry knew that. Most of all, he did not want Sinjon to fail spectacularly.

The moment when the announcer calls a horse’s name and number, at any show, no matter how small, is the moment when a rider realizes that all of those days, hours, and years of training are coming into focus.

This is the moment. The time is now.

At the National Horse Show in 1957, that moment took place in a noisy, smoke-filled, glaring arena. When the top competitors rode, a hush fell over the crowd; but Harry and Sinjon were unknown, so the low patter of conversation, the crackling of programs, and the soft tittering of society laughter continued unabated.

Harry clasped his calves around Sinjon and lightened his pressure on the reins just slightly, signaling the horse to bound ahead. The horse was contained, but just barely. Sinjon craned his head around, looking at the unfamiliar sights of the nighttime arena under the lights—and that was not a good start. Harry nudged Sinjon into a controlled gallop and kept him on a tight rein. He circled around, then headed toward the first fence.

Sinjon took the first two fences cleanly, but Harry heard the crack and felt the horse’s foreleg drop a pole on the third. For the rest of the course, the horse was clear.

Outside the arena, Harry watched the other competitors work. It was a challenging course, and poles went flying. At the end of the class, Riviera Wonder was on top with a clear round.

But when they called the ribbons, Harry trotted with Sinjon into the ring. Out of the twelve top competitors from the morning round, Harry and Sinjon had earned fourth place—a staggering performance for this all but unknown rider on his neophyte horse. Now, at last, Harry knew that everybody could see what he had been saying all along. This horse, though hard to ride, had the flash and brilliance to compete at the championship level. He just needed a year or two of seasoning. No need to spend time trying to train a plow horse. Harry had a real thoroughbred to train—a horse with the potential to be a champion.

The next day, Sinjon was off again and didn’t qualify for the evening round, but his brilliant performance from the show’s second night, battling his way through the qualifying round to finish in fourth place, had made an impression.

For the rest of the show, when he wasn’t riding, Harry watched the fanfare from the stands. He enjoyed the international competitions, which brought back vivid memories of his own few years jumping in Europe. Back then, people had speculated that one day Harry de Leyer would represent Holland in international competition.