The Eighty-Dollar Champion - Elizabeth Letts [95]
The jumper classes on the weekend afternoons usually drew the big crowds, especially for the stakes classes. So for this first jumper class, the stands were sparsely populated, although there were plenty of people in the press box. Harry picked out Marie Lafrenz there. Eleo Sears was also easy to spot—perched in the bleachers near the front, she kept her ice-blue eyes on the ring as coteries of people stopped by to pay their respects and welcome her home from Europe.
The FEI class was run on the rules normally used in international shows, where performance was judged both on ability to clear the fences and on the horse’s time. These international rules favored a different kind of horse—one that could accelerate quickly, turn sharply, and gain enough momentum to clear both height and width in spite of only a short distance to prepare. Harry knew that he would have to cut corners to get a fast enough time to win. With his relaxed manner and long, lanky stride, Snowman was not a natural for classes run on FEI rules.
The course was intimidating: the all-white fences glared in the sun, and the turf footing was sometimes slippery—most horses were accustomed to jumping in dirt rings. The last jump was a big aiken just twenty-four feet beyond the previous fence. That combination would be a tight in-and-out, especially difficult since horses would be headed toward the out-gate, which led in the direction of the stables, making them more prone to want to speed ahead.
Many horses were dropping a foot on the last fence, bringing a pole down; others were refusing. The first class on the first day was always a tough one—horses, typically skittish to new sights, had a lot to take in here, with the hubbub of spectators flanking the ring in their sports cars and convertibles.
When Bill Steinkraus entered the ring on Ksar d’Esprit, it was hard to miss the harmony between man and horse. Steinkraus sat in the saddle with classical elegance, and the picture he made on Ksar d’Esprit was one of a polished equestrian. Steinkraus sailed around the course with no faults, looking every bit the veteran Olympian he was.
When Harry entered the ring on Snowman, he knew that he would have to shave the approaches close. Snowman liked to jump clean, but he had not been bred for racing, and was not as naturally fast as some of the other horses. The only way to save time was for the rider to turn his horse in the air, with a guiding hand and a subtle change in his weight over the fences. This was a risky strategy because if the weight shift was too abrupt, the horse might flatten his arc and drop a hind leg.
Harry guided the horse through the tight turns, and Snowman followed Harry’s lead, but he just wasn’t sharp. Over the second-to-last fence he dropped a hind leg, knocking a pole from its cup.
Exiting the ring, Harry saw his children’s disappointed faces. After so many wins in a row, it was hard to watch the big gray get crushed by a horse who was so much better known and finely bred. But Harry lost no time thinking about his defeat. He needed to get Snowman cooled down and comfortable, because the Blitz Memorial series started in the afternoon. At least they would not be competing against Ksar d’Esprit in those classes, though there was no escaping Miss Sears’s other formidable entry, Diamant.
The rest of the morning flew by, and before long it was time to start the routine again: grooming, saddling, and bridling.
The sun shone down on the show grounds and by midafternoon, a greater number of spectators