Looking Back at the 2006 World Equestrian Games

: Nancy Jaffer at the WEG, ready to go in the 450 Euro hat she didn't buy, loaded down with her photo vest, photo pinnie, camera and monopod.

Back in the USA, September 7, 2006 -- There are those who think the World Equestrian Games (WEG) are too big and too long; that it would be better to go back to separate world championships in each discipline, the way it was before the first WEG in 1990.

I must say I was leaning in that direction myself after two weeks of rushing around writing and photographing seven disciplines on deadline at what for me was the World Exhaustion Games.

I thought a bit wistfully about 1986, when I covered the World Show Jumping Championships in Aachen; the World Eventing Championships in Australia; the World Dressage Championships in Canada and the World Four-in-Hand Championships in England. True, that involved a lot of traveling, but none of these championships were consecutive, so I had recovery time between each competition.

Yet since I've finally caught up on my sleep, I have to say that the WEG is a good idea. It makes a marketing and media impact that could not be duplicated by separate world championships. Another benefit is its united front for horse sports, which too often have gone their separate ways and not optimized their strengths as a result.

For every person who's a specialist--a show jumper, an eventer, a reiner--and interested in nothing else, there are many more people who just enjoy horses and have learned to appreciate them in all their sizes, shapes and "professions." The WEG gives them a chance to indulge their passion and at the same time, learn about new equestrian sports with which they may not be familiar. The Aachen organizers also did a great job of providing equestrian exhibitions, the most memorable of which was the 64-stallion quadrille during opening ceremonies.

To be a true horse lover, you have to be able to see the beauty in every breed and discipline. And the WEG offers a chance to encounter the best everywhere you look. As FEI President Princess Haya put it, during the WEG we were "indulged with equestrian excellence," and believe me, it was appreciated.

: Matt Mills in the midst of a spin on Easy Otie Whiz; © 2006 by Nancy Jaffer

What will I remember most about the 2006 WEG?

In reining, it was meeting Matt Mills, that personable young man who just missed an individual medal but had the opportunity to ride on the American gold medal team during his first foreign show. The way he handled himself was impressive. Matt is someone whose star quality should be showcased for the future as an ambassador of equestrian sport. And he looks fantastic in action, a rider with natural grace.

I also loved seeing how other countries got into being part of "the cowboy way". On a horse, wearing a 10-gallon hat and cowboy boots, you couldn't tell them from someone who grew up in Montana. Sure, the Germans had their national colors of red, black and yellow striped on their cowboy boots, and those gals from Switzerland wore the western shirts that fascinated me with their sparkle-outlined Swiss crosses (see photo below), but from a distance, all you see is the sportsman or woman, an identity that erases national boundaries.

In show jumping, it was the way Beezie Madden of the USA handled being in the lead on Authentic throughout the competition, until the very last fence of the WEG, and then how graciously she adjusted to accepting a silver medal that everyone thought should have been gold.

I loved the white stallions of show jumpers Gerco Schroeder and Jos Lansink, Eurocommerce Berlin and Cavalor Cumano, whose beauty played to the romance that most of us have with horses.

But let's dump the Final Four catch-riding concept. It's too much for the horses, and the thrill is gone when the riders are all so good (as they have to be nowadays to reach the top) that the whole thing lacks the interest it once had when different nations each had their own style of riding.

In endurance, I was impressed by the way winner Manuel Vila Ubach of Spain came toward the finish line, dropping the reins and doing a little airplane thing with his arms outstretched (some soccer, excuse me, football player in Europe apparently does that too, I guess that's where he picked it up). But then after he crossed the finish, the rider turned emotional, crying and kissing his horse, Hungares. He ran the gamut of emotions in front of all of us. I just wish it hadn't been raining so more people could have seen this little drama.