…is going on this blog! That’s right folks, I’m Sin City-bound for the World Cup Finals this week. For those of you who can’t be here, I’ll do my best to bring you all the observations and opinionations you won’t find in the results and ‘official’ reports.
This will be my fourth WC jumping and dressage final in Vegas. The last one was way back in 2009, which is far too long a gap as far as I’m concerned. Las Vegas Events’ President Pat Christenson told me back in January that he’s hoping the WC will be making a regular visit to Vegas every couple-three years going forward. If you aren’t going to make it this year, I highly recommend that you put it on your to-do list (under 55) or your bucket list (55 and over). And I don’t even like Las Vegas. I don’t gamble, I find being in the presence of desperate gambling addicts depressing, and I don’t like spending full days in imaginary indoor-outdoor spaces with fake skies painted on the ceilings. But Vegas really is the primo locale for hosting the World Cup. The hotels are many and near, the eating options are limitless, and if you’re tired of the ponies you can always venture out and catch one of Cirque du Soleil’s eight (yes, EIGHT) shows that are running at the same time.
There isn’t a bad seat in the Thomas & Mack, not even the nosebleeds. Want to see how Valegro’s mouth (foamy and always smiling) looks close up? Want to be able to count the braids in McLain Ward’s horse’s mane? Vegas is the place to do that without the need for binocs. Fancy a little tack and riding clothes shopping? They have that too in the wrap around trade fair.
Yes indeed, the WC in Vegas is a guaranteed winner if you enjoy a little horse sport along with a little desert sunshine. And speaking of deserts, I’m easing myself into this Vegas reporting gig with a couple of days RV camping at my favourite Nevada State Park, Valley of Fire. I had to leave Chorizo behind this time, but my other wing man, Janner, has come along for the fun. Unlike me, he is content to while away the hours watching people lose their shirts at black jack in Caesar’s Palace.
Stay tuned, or if you are lucky enough to be Vegas-bound, see you there!
