Nostalgia ain’t what it used to be.
So said Yogi Berra, allegedly. And while the passage of time can sweeten our memories somewhat, there is no denying that the “good old days” of equestrian sport were just that.
On the occasion of Horse Sport’s 25th anniversary in 1993, we interviewed a number of horse people who were active competitors in the 1950s, ‘60s and ‘70s. A recurring sentiment was that more people simply rode for the joy of it, when the showing lifestyle was still affordable.
“Everyone knew everyone,” recalled Bonnie Bolton, one of the early Corinthian staff members. “Riding and showing was a big social thing. Nowadays [1993], nobody seems to be having much fun. Back then, we’d have our $500 horses and go out and have a good time, we’d win our ribbons, go to parties. But these days, it seems to be a contest between who can have the most expensive horses, clothes and tack.”
Susan Jane Anstey, Horse Sport’s owner and editor-in-chief at the time the original article was written, had added, “There were very few people who had their own professional riders or their own coaches. Riding was largely an independent, individual effort. Most of us did it at home, after work, and when we went to shows, it wasn’t unheard-of to do six or eight classes a day. Sometimes we’d show into dusk, and turn on the car lights to light up the ring.”
Horse shows in the ‘60s were one-day or weekend affairs, nothing like the multi-week-long tournaments now. Hunter divisions might include green, conformation hunter, and open working; the jumpers only offered a green and open division. The horse world was smaller and had a real sense of community, with entire families showing together and attending the often legendary parties that shows such as Sutton and Collingwood used to host.
We recently caught up with Tom Gayford, part of Canada’s team gold medal show jumping effort in 1968, who had commented back in 1993 that horse shows had become too serious, expensive, and tough for amateurs who had to work all week. “Back then, most riders were amateurs; we went to work every day and did our riding on the side. That’s what I did, and so did Jim Elder. Others, like Doug Hood, ran a riding school but rode on the side; Doug Cudney [owner of team horses] was in the canned fruit business; Bob Ballard had his dog food business. Some of the other riders back then were army officers by profession – including my father – but he was also a stockbroker. There were very few people who actually made a living out of riding horses.”
Fast-forward to 2018. Has anything changed?
“It’s a rat race now, a runaway train,” Gayford said. “We used to show Saturday and Sunday and the odd Friday too. We went to work and we showed. You could compete and not spend a fortune. In my opinion, the shows now don’t cater to the amateurs and the hunters who have to pay, pay, pay. I can’t believe the money that’s spent down in Florida. I just can’t get my mind around it. We used to spend $25 a class and shoot for $75 in prize money.”
He explained why the amateurs are especially hard-hit at shows now. “There is only one class a day, so the little guy that wants to ship in for the weekend amateur classes – ship in Saturday, go home and ship back in Sunday – now they get charged a ship-in fee. We used to take horses to a horse show and they’d show in two or three classes in a day. If you didn’t go well in one class you’d take him back in another. That’s how we made horses. Now you can’t do that; the kid with moderate means has to pick a number of shows to go to and they’re there all day for one class. It’s very discouraging for kids and parents now. There’s just no way for the average person to play.”
This likely explains why most of the kids who are lucky enough to take lessons never advance in the sport. “The average parent looks at it like: if they play soccer all they need is a pair of shoes. Just to board a horse is roughly $1,000 a month.”
And the buzz these days is all about attracting youth to the sport. In the past, generations of entire families showed, which ensured there would always be young blood coming up through the ranks. “There was that, but it was also easy to get started then. You needed some help around the farm and the kids got a little bit of money and you traded some riding lessons for help in the barn, walking horses, helping you set up jumps. I don’t see much of that any more. The kids today don’t want to do that.”
Gayford continued, “I’ve had some good kids go through my place, but they’re scarce as hen’s teeth now. Part of it is that life is so expensive for them – they have to work. I’ve had two or three in the past that have ridden for me and gone on to other things with the horses. But there’s very little of that; I mean, the pros catch all the rides now.”
One of those ‘kids’ was Eric Lamaze. “I gave Eric his first grand prix win back at the Aurora Horse Show. He came up from the Montreal area and I had a horse that was a good jumper but a little bit tough, so I grabbed him. That’s how he made his way up – and by being very good and very hard-working.”
Gayford fears the affordable shows have slipped away over the years. “Orangeville was a lovely show. The footing was good, it was reasonable to go to, but the hunter people didn’t like riding on grass.” But there is a huge upside thanks to Canada’s major venues. “Spruce Meadows is one of the top facilities in the world; Thunderbird has a World Cup and a Nations’ Cup; and John Anderson’s place, RMSJ, has a lot of great shows. At CEP they’ve done a wonderful job; they’ve thrown a lot of money back in there and it’s a good facility. Angelstone has also done that. They have all generated sponsorship that has allowed the sport to progress the way it has.
“Our shows now feature world-class competitions that have developed our course designers, horses, and riders to the point they can compete anywhere in the world – Olympics, Pan Am Games, Nations Cups, etc. We have caught up with the world and passed most of it. Our depth of international riders has ballooned, with record numbers competing in international events every year.”
But there’s no room for the minor leagues; there is still the fringe element out there and very few of those riders can move up. “I understand the business; if I was putting on a horse show I would expect to make some money. You have to pay everybody these days. In the good old days’ everybody helped; your ring crew you had to pay for, but the rest of the show was all volunteer-run.”
The solution (if there actually is one) is complex. Will a rider of modest means ever be able to follow a clear path to the top? To borrow another Yogi-ism: “You’ve got to be very careful if you don’t know where you are going, because you might not get there.”
