When I was little, many moons ago, I was lucky enough to get my first pony, Sage, at the tender age of 12. The saddle for her cost more than she did, and pasture board was a struggle for my folks, but I was in heaven! I started doing little shows, mostly at the barn where I kept her. They had a 3- show series, in the middle of winter, on Friday nights, with Series Championships rewarding the high scorer that did all 3 shows in each division. (Sounds like a great idea, doesn’t it? Picture parents freezing their butts off, until 10 pm, to cheer on horse-crazy kids after a long week at work.) Well, as luck would have it, Sage and I had the lead in pony hunters after the first 2 shows.

A Strangles outbreak at our barn put a quick end to my dreams of being a winner on my $200 pony against much fancier ponies, with more experienced riders. Worse than that, I had read John Steinbeck’s The Red Pony. I knew that Strangles killed the pony in the book, and was soon having nightmares of fighting off vultures of my own as they tried to feed on my precious Sage. The 3 ponies affected were put in a quarantine barn, and I spent my time visiting, scouring and praying. Needless to say, the third show was no longer possible. 

Fortunately, as the night of long-awaited third show approached, Death revoked its nasty threat, and the afflicted ponies turned the corner. As relieved as I was to know I wouldn’t lose my pony, or an eye to an angry vulture, I now coveted the almighty what could have been. I was almost a Series Champion! I went to the show that night, and I watched a spectacular black pony, named Lissiter Opal, secure the win. Although a few points shy of Sage’s total, he competed in the final show and became the Series Champion. I am not proud to say that I pouted a bit. Give me a break here since I was only 12, and had been cleaning out pus pockets under my poor pony’s jaw for a week. 

I watched the presentation, got a hug from Mom, and we started to head out. That is when something extraordinary happened. The young rider, my age, and her coach approached us. Her name was Joanie, and she rode at a much more serious show barn than I did. She stopped in front of me, and even though it must have hurt, she held out the Series Champion plate. She told me, that I should have won because I had more points, and that she was so sorry my pony was sick.  To say I was shocked is an understatement. I held the shiny, engraved plate and mumbled thank you with tears in my eyes. Although trophies have come and gone over the years, I still have this one, at the not so tender age of 60.

As soon as my parents could afford it, I went to ride with that trainer, a woman named Joy Hall. She was super tough, but taught me so much, including what it meant to be a good sport. Sportsmanship is the person that pulls their horse up on cross country 2 jumps from home, even though in the lead, because the horse doesn’t feel right. It is the competitor that had a bad day in dressage, but still goes to the ring to cheer on a friend. It is the person that puts a smile on your face when you see them during a course walk, and the person that lends you their girth because yours is still hanging on the tack hook at home. Whether a professional or amateur, kid or adult, this rider knows it is about the journey, and the camaraderie, not just the wins. 

I don’t feel like Sportsmanship is on the radar much anymore. I remember there being Sportsmanship awards at many shows when I was young. These are not to be confused with consolation prizes. You can do well at a show, and still be a good sport. It is all about how you carry yourself on the playing field. Good turnout, knowledge of the rules, good horsemanship, and not being a sore loser, are all components of the word. I am pretty certain, as I write this, that someone you know has popped into your head. If so, please submit them to MSEDA for the inaugural awarding of The Sportsmanship Cup, sponsored by my farm. This special award, near and dear to my heart, will be voted on by the board, and given out at the year-end banquet. Send in the name of your deserving competitor, with a short description of why you feel they exemplify the meaning of sportsmanship, and the positive example they set for our sport. Meanwhile, read The Red Pony, if you haven’t yet. Spoiler alert: it’s a tear jerker!