May 30, 2026 
The path from the warmup along the side of the Piazza di Siena seemed as eternal as the city of Rome itself as I watched Richard Vogel and his horse Gangster Montdesir make their way to the arena.
It’s the five-star Intesa Sanpaolo Nations Cup in the Villa Borghese, a public park in the heart of the city spanning 200 acres with the Piazza di Siena, site of equestrian events for the last two centuries, set down in the middle.
There can hardly be said to be a more beautiful location for a horse show, a delicious green oval surrounded by Italian cypresses, impossibly tall and thin, and the stone pines, whose top-heavy umbrella canopies spread themselves high above.
But hardly anyone is thinking of the beauty of the location at this moment, for we have that rare thing in a Nations Cup: a jump off for the winner!
And despite being thousands of miles away and an American, my heart is pounding as if I were there, and a member of Team Germany.
OK, let’s be real: it’s pounding as if I am a member of Team Mexico, that group of passionate equestrians in their iconic green Team Mexico hats.
Because for the first time in seventy-eight years, Team Mexico might take the win at the Piazza di Siena!
1948 was quite a year for Team Mexico, not just in Rome. There was another little competition that year in London, a few months after the horse show in Rome: The Olympics.
At that time, Team Mexico was considered to be the best equestrian team in the world.
Show jumping was a different sport back then, a sport practiced by members of the military with large and heavy immovable obstacles. At the Olympics that year, 43 riders participated in the individual competition and of those 43, 21 were eliminated from what was described as a “brutal, rain-soaked course.”
Team Mexico took the Gold and in the individual, Mexican riders grabbed both Gold and Silver.
And all of this was predicted by their performance in Rome, at the Piazza di Siena.
Back to present day, and Team Mexico is once again dominating. They are the only team to exit round one on a perfect zero-zero-zero-zero score, even putting in the fourth rider, Fernando Martinez Sommer, unnecessarily to warm him up for round two.
But Round One didn’t end decisively: Mexico had to contend with Ireland, USA, the UK, and Team Germany, all on scores of 4.
Ireland came back in round two as absolute lumberjacks, ending on a score of 28, well off the podium. Team USA did the same, ending just above Ireland on 20. The UK, as always, kept things scrappy, adding only 4 faults to their score and grabbing the last spot on the podium.
Team Germany, however, stayed in it to win it, adding no faults to stay on 4, while Team Mexico kept things spicy by finally getting some faults and evening the score with Germany at 4 faults.
That meant a jump off!
In a Nations Cup jump off, the teams choose one rider to go over a short course, in this case seven obstacles, in what ends up being a thrilling match race.
Team Mexico was in the lead with the faster overall second round time, so first to go was Germany’s chosen rider, number three in the world Richard Vogel.
There’s no one like Richie Vogel in a jump off. I’m the one writing it, but I’m hardly the only one saying it.
“I can’t beat Richie in a jump off,” said the petite pro female rider standing next to me. This was at a swanky party in Miami, maybe you can guess which one.
“It’s what he can do with his hands…” she trailed off. Or at least that’s how I remember it, and it must be somewhat accurate, because after she said it I approached this same Richie, who was also in the room, and grabbed one of his hands. I examined it, but as I am not a rider myself, I wasn’t sure exactly what I was looking for.
But I do know I have had occasion to remark on the size of them, which is even more obvious because it seems he never wears gloves when riding, although I cannot be over sure about this as, despite appearances, I am not (yet) fully employed as a Richard Vogel stalker. It’s only, at this point, an off-and-on sort of hobby.
I remember meeting a manufacturer of equestrian gloves and telling her that the big prize in this space was Vogel, for obviously no one had yet created a glove that either fit or pleased him, as he has not been seen by me to ever be wearing them.
“The blame must fall on you all,” I said snootily to the manufacturer, while she protested that she did, indeed, have the perfect glove. To which I replied, “Then why isn’t he wearing them?”
One thing I did see Vogel wearing in Rome was a jaunty straw hat, and it pleased me almost as much as seeing Martin Fuchs sporting a cowboy hat in Texas, but neither that hat or nor Fuchs’ can be said to compare to the very large sombrero, whose brim was as wide as the canopies of the stone pines overhead, and upon which was stitched in colorful yarn “¡Viva Mexico!”
This was worn by Patricio Pasquel’s groom, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
Vogel and Gangster Montdesir had knocked two fences in the first round, but had come back for the perfect clear in the second. Two of his teammates had gone double clear: Sophie Hinners and Jörne Sprehe, two of only five to do so, the others being the Mexican riders Carlos Hank Guerreiro and Fernando Martinez Sommer, and British rider Adrian Volo.
But no one was disappointed to see Vogel chosen and he did not disappoint, clocking a blazing time of 39.99. Unfortunately, he and his mount did something dramatic at the last fence that resulted in flailing legs and two poles down on the ground.
That left the field open for Patricio Pasquel, veteran rider and Olympian, who wore not only gloves but a safety vest, indicating, perhaps, a less devil-may-care attitude. He could afford to take it slow, but take it slow and knock a rail and who’s gonna be your friend in the morning?
Already, by the second jump, he was more than two seconds behind Vogel, and he gave that one a hard rub. But he crossed the last jump, having left everything up, in a time of 45.91, nearly six seconds slower than Vogel, slow but perfect strategically, and proclaimed a victory 78 years in the making!
And all I can find myself saying, as I watch the on-field celebration and that glorious sombrero whose brim encompasses all like a warm hug is: “That’s the party I want to be at!”
¡Viva Mexico!
