Competition

Last week I had the privilege of attending events at the World Equestrian Games. During the jumping competition, contestants are penalized for knocking down any part of a fence, refusing to jump, or going over the time limit.

The first several horses received faults, mostly for knocking down rails on fences. Finally a horse ran the course clear, and the crowd responded with thunderous applause. After some individual jumpers, we entered the team competition.

Each of 10 teams had 4 riders, and the US came in to the evening in third place. As each horse and rider traversed the course, the crowd held its breath, willing the horses to clear the jumps. With no music or commentary, the venue remained silent for the 84 seconds allotted each round. If a horse did hit a jump, a collective sigh rose from the crowd. If the horse seemed to falter and risk falling, the crowd gasped involuntarily.

After each round, the applause rose immediately following the final jump, regardless of the country of the rider. Our US team had some disastrous rounds, and dropped to 10th in the competition. Yet despite the audience being mostly American, they clapped for each competitor, as if they were rooting for the horses to succeed, despite nationality. And of course, the horses have no idea of national loyalty anyway.

I love my Kentucky Wildcats and my Cincinnati Reds, and enjoy rooting for them. Part of the typical ballgame experience is rooting against the competition. Yet the absence of that kind of malice at this event refreshed me. I enjoyed just encouraging all the competitors instead of disdaining the "enemy."

Would that life had more such moments.