You don’t know me but I, like so many other riders today, know your name very well.

I also know that your individual Olympic result was not what you were hoping for. And I know, based on your recent Instagram post, that you feel you’ve let your horse and your fans down.

But, as a fan, I’d like to offer a slightly different take.

I’ve written a lot about your stats with King Edward. Here, on Horse Network, we have celebrated your many victories: your World Championship and Olympic medals, your surreal back-to-back titles at FEI World Cup Finals, your *5 wins in ‘s-Hertogenbosch, Amsterdam, Rome, Göteborg, and beyond.

I have no doubt, based on how your 14-year-old horse jumped out of his skin in Paris, that there are many more of these victories and—I very much hope—championship appearances in your future. If we can all agree that horses tell us what they are capable of by their actions, then by his performances this season, alone, the King has clearly made his opinion known.

Still that’s cold comfort for your immediate disappointment.

In your Instagram post, you wrote: “Whats [sic] hurting the most is that this were the last Olympic Games for King Edward, his shape and spirit were there to fight for the medals in the jump off, he deserved it so much. To taken that away from him is a bitter pill to swallow.”

I don’t profess to speak horse, but I do know this. King Edward does not care that about the medals on his record, Olympic or otherwise. You care, because you love your horse and you want to honor his enormous talent.

But here’s the thing: you already have.

You and King Edward are the most successful partnership in 25 years. It’s a record that won’t soon, if ever, be surpassed.

And, while we’re always going to celebrate your victories, it’s possible that you gave us something better than an Olympic medal in Paris: you showed the world what a true horseman is—and at a time when the sport could really use a good example.

When you collected King Edward after that fall in the ring, and scratched him on the rump, and kissed him on the nose, you put your horse’s comfort above your own disappointment. You offered calm reassurance to your confused horse in the moment he needed it most.

That hasn’t always been the case at the Olympics.

At the Rio Games, four show jumpers were eliminated for rough riding when their desire for a medal met resistance from their horses; another left his horse in the ring after he fell off. At Tokyo, we watched a pentathlon coach punch a horse in frustration. These are not the actions of a horseman.

In a perfect world, the most talented, best-prepared partnerships should always win the day. But that’s never going to be the reality of our sport. Frankly, the uncertainty of show jumping is why we love it.

Like many horsemen, I’m sure you’ve been told over the course of your career, and especially over the last week, that “everyone has a bad day at the office” and “horses are horses, no matter how well we know them, they can still surprise us.”

Both of these things are true, but they don’t quite go far enough.

The reason that so many of us love seeing your name at no. 1 in the World Rankings, that we look forward to cheering for you and King Edward every time you trot into the arena, is not because you win (although we love it when you do). Your fans all around the world cheer for you because you’re the kind of horseman that reflects show jumping at its best.

We’ve seen you there at the stalls, first thing in the morning, longeing your own horse before classes. We’ve seen you obsess about King Edward’s comfort, maintaining his bare feet, and retrofitting a new bridle to help him jump more comfortably. You’re a self-made rider with a proven track record of helping horses reach the top, even and especially the most complicated and sensitive mounts—from King Edward to Tovek’s Mary Lou and Iliana.

The bottom line is, King Edward wouldn’t have become one of the greatest horses the sport will ever know without you. And, win or lose, you are exactly the type of athlete our sport needs.

Only a handful of riders in the world will ever have the kind of talent it takes to produce and compete top horses time and time again. Fewer still will experience the level of pressure that comes with maintaining a world no. 1 ranking for two consecutive years.

But all of us can aspire to your work ethic and sportsmanship. Your openness and desire to improve. The meticulous attention to detail that you continuously demonstrate toward your horses and their care.

Thank you for being that kind of champion for our sport.  

Sincerely,

Your Many Grateful Fans