Stories

Every once in awhile, when I'm feeling down, I'll read the Snowman story.
While I don't actually have the book "Eighty-Dollar Champion", I'll gather up little tid-bits of information about the story, and I'll read it until I feel a little bit better.
The story itself is a fantastic, real-life twist on the Cinderella/underdog story, ten out of ten, so on and so on.
But when I was little, I imagined myself being at about where Henry deLeyer was at the peak of Snowman and his success. Buying a slaughter-bound horse off the trailer for dirt cheap, training it myself, and making something great out of it.

And, of course, here I am. With an almost-crippled horse that I only had to pay one dollar for. Past me would be kicking present me in the shins right now.

But even though this isn't where I wanted to be eight years ago, it's where I'm happy. And before Mister is unsound, maybe we'll do something really cool. Maybe he'll be the One-Dollar Champion.

My point is, I'm not a big time trainer who snagged a warmblood off the trailer. I'm not a blue ribbon rider who cleans up at every show. Mister isn't the the $10k competitor he use to be, and he never will be. He's also never going to jump 7'2". Not because I think he won't, but because I would never let him, even if he could.

But I think I'm okay with that.

Cheers.