October 4, 2025 
When did I first fall in love?
It was never supposed to happen. I was very young and in Chicago on a tourist weekend. Somehow I found myself attracted to a fortune teller’s storefront. Just a lark, I thought, little knowing how the brief minutes I spent in the woman’s indifferent presence would follow me like a curse.
I can tell you now because the curse is broken.
“You will never fall in love,” she said, not looking at me, looking at my palm. She had no empathy, her voice didn’t rise and fall with the news she found in my hand. She simply laid out my dismal future like she was reading down her grocery list.
“You will start something in April, very passionate, but very short,” she intoned listlessly (it was February).
April rolled around and I did as I was told, torrid and temporary, the main regret coming, not from a fresh new set of emotional scars, but from the idea that if the fortune teller got one thing right, she must be right about the other.
But even she could not have predicted Hello Folie.
I will quote from an authority (me), whose heart was first touched back in June of this year in La Baule France:
“First, let us note that delightful little mare Hello Folie, ridden by Scott Brash (they took fifth). Folie means madness in french and honestly, I think this little thing is well-named. Oh, this one inspires some lust in a horse owner! Who wouldn’t want to see a little chestnut mare throwing herself, all heart, over lofty fences, displaying athleticism and courage in equal measure? Hello Folie is a ten-year-old Luidam out of a Diamant mare and is the full sister of Candy de Nantuel, a stallion that’s breeding like crazy all over France and even has a baby in my own stable!”
Or how about his from the European Championships in January, that same authority (me) losing her head like Brash lost his reins (remember that?) and submitting this lede to her indulgent editor:
“Scott Brash Hello Folie Scott Brash Hello Folie Brash Folie Brash Folie Brash Folie Folie Folie..!”
But let us turn now to the event that has me once again swooning: Brash and Folie’s win in the CSIO five-star Grand Prix of the City of Barcelona, which took place on Friday ahead of the Longines League of Nations Final on Sunday.
Santiago Varela of Spain designed the course, which distinguished itself with its placing of big, wide oxers, including a last one over a liverpool that cursed no less than three Spanish riders, who put down brilliant, almost-clear rounds to the adulation of the local crowd, only to meet disappointment at that last fence.
The format of the class brought back 12 riders for the second round in reverse order of their times, which put Hello Folie, that little speed demon, in the prime last-to-go position.
The second round was built with long gallops and individual jumps, with only one double of verticals added in, a course that wondered at what speed you’d be willing to risk it.
Donald Whitaker and Millfield Colette withdrew on a first-round four-fault score, perhaps saving their energy for Sunday’s final. Two others entered the ring on four faults, Sean Monaghan of Ireland and Gregory Wathelet of Belgium. Wathelet, determined to improve his placing, put down a blistering time of 52.41 with Double Jeu d’Honvault. He ultimately finished 7th, but gave everyone something to chase.
The first double clear came with the fourth rider in the round, Antoine Ermann of France, who ended in 5th, more than four seconds slower than Wathelet.
Alex Matz of the USA came next and executed a beautiful, fast round, ignoring whatever Ermann did and aiming for Wathelet. He crossed the finish at 52.90, putting himself in the top position for most of the second round.
The ninth rider to go was Piergiorgio Bucci of Italy with Kiss Me Fabulesse, who, although he could not beat Matz’s time, made one wonder what Italy will be bringing us on Sunday. He finished third.
Spain finally got themselves a double clear after all of the frustrations of the first round with rider Alberto Marquez Galobardes and his mount Kelly, who finished 6th with a time of 56.95.
And then all we had left is that little crazy mare and her distinguished rider Scott Brash. Brash is fresh off a big win at the Spruce Meadows Masters, putting him back into Grand Slam contention, but with a different horse, Hello Jefferson.
Someone sent me a video from the warmup there in Barcelona, showing Folie jumping a towering vertical as if it were giving off a forcefield which repelled her up and over. I immediately became envious of her evident on-the-scene stalker, basking in the presence of my beloved while I engaged in remote reportage from the shores of my lonely boudoir.
There goes Folie, motoring around flawlessly until just after fence 6, when, with the next jump straight ahead, she swerves unexpectedly to the right, losing time as Brash redirects her. Have they lost it?
Well, you know the answer: they have not, they have won it! Folie runs to the last, loose mane flying, and clocks in at 52.12, sending Matz and Ikigai into second and thwarting the predictions of Chicagoan fortune tellers.
Because love, for me, is a thing.
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