Of Eventing, Risk Assessment, and William Fox-Pitt

If you have been following international equestrian news in the past week, and more particularly eventing news, you are probably already aware that one of the leading event riders in the world, William Fox-Pitt of Great Britain, fell from a horse while on course at the Le Lion d'Angers Young Event Horse CCI** Championships.

Fox-Pitt is a genuinely masterful rider and a lovely person. He is probably in the top 0.1% of most experienced, talented, and successful horsemen alive today.

from the Bromont 3 Day Event, photo by me

Following his fall, the course was held for an hour (it's unclear whether he was being worked on that entire time, or whether he was transported immediately and the hold was due to other logistical factors). He was brought to a hospital. He was medically sedated for observation due to a traumatic brain injury.

There have been no updates since, and no details, which is of course the family's prerogative; but it does not look good.

The Chronicle of the Horse forums, which, say what you will about them, are always a good place to go for ardent discussion of breaking news, have been covering the incident extensively, and sharing some really wonderful stories about Fox-Pitt's good-natured personality, sportsmanship, and extraordinary horse sense. (All of that also comes through if you've ever read his autobiography, which I highly recommend.)

from the Bromont 3 Day Event, photo by me

Fox-Pitt's fall has intersected with emotional ongoing debates about the nature of eventing as a sport: where is it headed, is it too dangerous, has it changed for the worse, and how to address the increasingly common news of human and horse injury and death in upper level eventing. (Some other bloggers have addressed this as well, among them SprinklerBandit's In Defense of Eventing.)

I don't have answers for any of that. I don't think anyone does.

Here's one thing I want to take a stand on, however. An argument which comes up time and time again when this discussion happens is that being involved with horses is inherently dangerous. When a horse dies on the cross-country course, someone is guaranteed to say, "Well, he could have tripped out in pasture." When a rider dies or is seriously injured while competing, someone is guaranteed to say, "Well, I know someone who died just leading their horse back to the barn."

from the Bromont 3 Day Event, photo by me

I'm officially fed up with that argument. Below, I have copied the text of a post I finally made after I got angrier and angrier reading the COTH thread. The post I responded to is at the top, in italics.

Honestly...I've known riders killed going for a walking hack on a reliable horse. I've also known (not just know of) people with TBIs in a coma for days doing dressage. I've also known 3 people killed by horses just handling them...got kicked in very normal situations with normal horses. My worst injury came during a dressage school. I don't think you ever know what will cause you to question the danger....but most people I do not really think understand the danger until they do. Our minds do not let us think about otherwise we would all never get into a car on a daily basis.   

While I wholeheartedly agree with the second half of this post (that we must all make our own personal decisions based on our own risk assessment), I keep hearing this argument over and over and I'm starting to get frustrated with it.

For me, it's a false equivalency. It's the same argument used to justify not wearing a helmet - "I can get killed at any time around horses, so why bother wearing a helmet while riding?" Yes, you can, and yes, you should. The two situations are not mutually exclusive.

Horses are dangerous. No one sensible would say otherwise; we can all reel off the names of riders seriously injured or killed in freak accidents. My worst riding fall came while walking on a loose rein in a field; after my horse hand spent a solid 90 minutes behaving abominably, he calmed down, was quiet and well-behaved...and tripped. I went off. My helmet split. I got a concussion and screwed up my back permanently. So believe me, I get the "horses are dangerous at all times" argument.

But. Here's the thing. Saying that extrapolates from the anecdotes and the statistically practically inconsequential freak accidents and tries to create a big risk umbrella that belies the significantly higher risk that any rider takes on when raising the activity and difficulty level of an equestrian sport.

What I'm trying to say is: yes, you can be injured while just standing next to a horse. But your odds for being injured go up as you go along the continuum: longeing, riding, dressage, jumping, and cross-country. Riding a horse cross-country is without question one of the more dangerous things you can do on horseback. It just is. There are more variables, there is more speed, there is more adrenaline, and there are infinitely more things that can go wrong. Ratchet that up as you go up the levels, with more athletic horses, bigger jumps, faster courses, and trickier questions. It becomes a sheer numbers game.

Possibly the best event rider in the world was very seriously injured riding what seems to many to be a straightforward fence, at a level he had done hundreds of times before. The fact that troubles me is that we've cornered the numbers game so that even the very, very best that have ever participated in this sport cannot do so safely. Not with any consistency. It's not a question of whether they will be seriously injured. It's a question of when. If not the riders, then the horses. I find that deeply troubling and unbelievably sad. 

The problem is not "oh well you could get killed doing anything with horses." The problem is that eventing seems to have become an unacceptably high risk endeavour, and we can't catch up fast enough with safety measures. The former does not justify the latter. 

Look: I love eventing, but when you add up the numbers of horses and riders seriously injured or killed, you can't ignore the pattern. So far, the answer seems to be, well, that's the price we pay for having eventing as a sport. And that frustrates me.

from the Bromont 3 Day Event, photo by me

The "you could get killed doing anything around horses" argument is the "guns don't kill people, people kill people" argument of equestrian sport.

They are both true, but simply saying them and refusing to consider statistics, evidence, and attempt a more nuanced understanding of risk assessment is naive and counterproductive.

We need to nip this argument in the bud, acknowledge that there are things we do that can dramatically increase or lessen the danger and risk inherent in any particular activity, and not simply say that all the risk levels involved in horses are equal, and therefore we sign an imaginary contract saying we're ok with whatever happens next. We should not be ok with what happens next.

Right to Know and Rolex

The eventing world has been up in arms about public statements made about the euthanizing of Emily Cammock's Rolex horse Dambala - both the original statements and the kerfuffle about them on the Chronicle of the Horse forums.

I've read just about everything from both sides, and thought a lot about this in the last day or so. I've thought a lot about upper level eventing in general in the last few years as well, the risk factor, the trajectory, the public image.

Before I get to my opinion it might help you to know that the first and only Rolex Kentucky Event at which I spectated was in 2008. It was a weekend of incredible highs and unbelievable lows. I was at the starting box and the finish line to see Karen O'Connor ride Teddy around. I still get a lump in my throat remembering that pony, being able to see him in person. I remember Courageous Comet's gallop. I remember seeing Phillip Dutton's cross country position for the first time in person.

You know what else I remember that day? Walking up a hill and arriving at the crest just in time to see screens go up for The Quiet Man.

I remember a few hours later, walking up another hill, just about to crest it, and hearing screaming as Frodo Baggins flipped over the flower basket. That collective crowd-wide indrawn gasp, and then screaming. I didn't end up going over the hill - I couldn't face it. The friend I was traveling with that weekend was in the front row at the flower basket with her daughter. They watched Frodo convulse and die right in front of them, watched Laine get airlifted off course. I lay on the grass, my coat over my head to shield it from the sun, and cried, and tried to read. It felt like hours.

I remember standing at the Head of the Lake watching Boyd Martin take an unbelievably nasty fall into the water - it was not a drop that year, but his horse glanced off, he hit the ground hard and went into the water face-down, and was still. The EMTs, in one of the most impressive quick responses I've ever seen in person, were in the water with him in seconds, stabilized his back, and flipped him over so he could breathe. He came to within seconds (he may never have been fully unconscious, just stunned), and walked around a bit, and then tried to mount his horse again - this was before one fall and out. He couldn't find the stirrup with his foot. He stabbed his toe at it two, three times, and kept missing. I remember standing there and praying that he would call it a day. Please, don't get back on that horse. He didn't, and he withdrew his other horse for the next day.

I love eventing. I loved most of that weekend at Rolex. But I can close my eyes and still put myself in that moment, seeing the screens go up, hearing the screams, watching Boyd still in the water.

Which brings me to this year. An equine athlete died as a direct result of injuries incurred while eventing at Rolex.

Part of the deal any professional rider makes - in exchange for riding at the highest levels, in exchange for supporters and sponsors, in exchange for the world stage at a 4* event - is to put themselves in the public eye. It's unavoidable. It's a trade that many are willing to make. Perhaps 50, 75 years ago an event rider could come to a major event and simply be there that weekend, be in the moment and ride, and fade away afterwards.

Not anymore. The world is bigger, and it is more connected. It is more expensive, with a bigger stage, higher sponsor demands, and more opportunities. I'm not lauding or lamenting that; it simply is. Eventing has been moving this way for some time now. It can't be a niche sport and survive. It has a passionate fanbase, and an increasingly internet-savvy following.

When a horse dies on course at Rolex, questions need to asked. Period. When a rider issues an initial statement that seems to imply the decision to put that horse down was made based on whether or not he would continue to have a career, that looks bad. Really bad.

Should we trust Emily Cammock implicitly? Should we always assume that riders at Rolex have their horse's best interests at heart, and of course they explored all the options before making the decision to euthanize?

I would really, really like to. But we can't. No one is immune; not on that stage. If we stop asking questions when the worst happens, then we let it happen unscrutinized. Does it cause some pain to those who have had to make those horrible decisions? Yes. But that's part of the trade. You lose some of that anonymity and that privacy when terrible accidents happen. If we're going to make this sport better, safer, and more responsible, we need to know what happened. I'm not saying we hound someone, or pre-judge, or behave in any manner that is not kind and respectful. But we need to ask questions.

In this case, the follow up statement clarified the decision, and said what we all hoped: that retirement was considered and even planned, but wasn't possible.

Look: I would love to live in a world where terrible accidents happen at Rolex and we can assume that everyone involved does the best they can, makes the best possible decisions, is altruistic and selfless, and that the accident itself was a pure accident. We don't. We live in a world where people do terrible things to horses, and too often no one speaks up.

Can you imagine if something happened and we didn't ask questions? If we just treated it as the norm? If we accepted horses dying, injuring themselves, being euthanized, and just shrugged if off and said "I'm sure everyone is doing the best they can" and moved on? No. That's not honest, and it doesn't help anyone.

Bad things thrive in silence, in quiet, and in obscurity. We can't contribute to that by throwing our hands in the air and looking the other way when something terrible happens on the biggest day of eventing in America.

Pau CCI**** Livestream

Can I just say, everything about the Pau livestream is making me happy this morning?

Gorgeous horses, check.
Retro tv design, check.
Hearing French and re-tuning my ear for it, check.
Excellent background to the work I'm doing today, check!

Harewood Horse Trials, 1955

WOW. Check out the jump combination that begins at 2:42.

 

GOOD PONY

I am alive but exhausted and busy. Will have photos and lesson notes later tonight or maybe tomorrow.

In the meantime, HOLY CRAP.

Movie Review: International Velvet

International Velvet (1978)
(available on Amazon Instant for $2.99 rental)

This past weekend, I rewatched International Velvet, which is one of my top five favorite horse movies of all time. It's the sequel to National Velvet. The movie begins with Sarah Brown, the daughter of Velvet's younger brother Donald, who was orphaned and comes to live with her aunt in England. They turn out to have a love of horses in common, and Sarah trains up the Pie's last foal to become an eventing superstar, cleverly named Arizona Pie.

This is the kind of movie that does some things really, really right and other things really, really wrong. I rather adore it, for its spirit if nothing else. It captures beautifully the ambition and hard work and joy of horses, and it is a fitting - if sad - sequel to National Velvet in its continuation of Velvet's story.

The things it gets wrong are the usual small silly things: the Pie has transformed from the book's piebald gelding, and even from the movie's chestnut gelding, to a seal bay stallion. He also has to be at least 40, by the universe's internal chronology, and...yeah, no. Some of the details of horsekeeping are just dumb. The cinematic conceit of making everything faster - stronger - scarier in regard to horses holds true; there's one extended chase sequence in particular that would be insanely dangerous and probably kill both Sarah and Arizona. (It still works, though; it's frightening and maddening in equal measure as intended, and the bad guys get a particularly awful comeuppance.)

But oh, the things it gets right. Sarah is a bit of a stereotype, true, but she's the best kind of horse-crazy. Her relationship with Arizona is a little Black Stallion-y but it still works. The best part about her character is how terrible she is with people. In fact, she's not really very likeable. "I'm never going to be what people expect me to be," she confesses to an admiring boy at one point. "Don't feel badly. There's nobody else. It's just me."

The movie really gets eventing, right deep down, and it doesn't fall prey to the usual mistakes about the format of the sport that the handful of other movies about eventing do. In particular, the team selection bits are marvelous. There is a bit where the chef d'equipe explains the politics of team selection that is just perfect.

Possibly my very, very favorite thing about it is Velvet, and her adult life. Her relationship with John (Christopher Plummer in all his glory) is note-perfect in its characterization of a happy loving adult relationship. Her sadness and regret at the way her life turned out is poignant and painful. Remember her mother, who was afraid that swimming the Channel was the only big thing that would happen to her? Velvet, despite her protests, turned out much the same. After winning the Grand National, she stopped riding - she says she "lost her nerve" and later in talking about Sarah said, "All I hoped was, she wouldn't win too early, and afterwards have nowhere to go."

My second favorite thing? Anthony Hopkins as Captain J.R. Johnson, the British chef d'equipe, who basically steals the entire movie from everyone else. He gets all the best lines and all the best scenes. It might be my favorite role of his. Here are just a very few of his selected quotes:

"Oh. Well. We wouldn't exactly call that riding, would we? Staying on a horse, perhaps. Where did you learn to ride?...Oh, in the colonies, yes. Well, that explains it. You realize, of course, that they don't allow cowboys in the Olympics?" 

"No, no, no. Come on! Stop. Start again. This is dressage. It's meant to be like a ballet, Mr. Clark, not a barn dance, or like a pregnant Tom Mix. Don't ask me who Tom Mix was. It's all too long ago, and I can't remember. Now, once more and not with feeling. Please, spare me that." 

"Some of you may have come here with the impression that dressage is frightfully boring compared to the greater glories of the cross country event. That's because you all lack sophistication, amongst other things. 

Now, we come to the cross country event. The cross country event is considered by some, Miss Brown, to be an opportunity to display carefree abandon. This is a mistake for which I would cheerfully re-introduce capital punishment. This is a test of brains. And since horses are only marginally less stupid than some of the people who ride them, an observation which carries with it the experience of a lifetime, I would urge you not to sit on your brains, but to use them."

"Dressage in pouring rain is like dancing Swan Lake in clogs in a bog. The greater glory of the sport was somewhat obscured from view that day." 

Final warning: there is a scene on a plane that...well...it's quite frankly really horrible. If you don't deal well with animal death, fast forward any of the times they're on the plane, ok?` I do, every time.

In short: absolutely worth it, both as a horse movie and as an eventing movie. We'll just pretend the scene on the plane didn't happen onscreen, and ignore the stupid final resolution of Sarah's storyline.