And why does this stuff always happen in full view of hundreds of people?! I think the last time I was in full moron mode in front of an audience was when I had to go into the arena on foot to get some trophy, got my spurs hooked together, and fell on my face. Luckily, I was eight at the time, and I still had that great internal defense mechanism all little kids have—you know, the one that prevents you from remembering any really humiliating situations until ten years later, when you can actually think about them without wanting to change your name and move. Anyway, yesterday was a second day I'd sort of like to forget for the next ten years : )!!

This happened at a show, in the middle of the senior team warm-up class. Now, I usually jump Api (my trak mare) in the team events, because she just has more ability than Bravo (my QH gelding), but this time I entered Bravo, too, mainly to give him a try over a more technical course. Both horses go clear, then later, in the jump-off, Api and I nail all our turns and rack up the fastest time so far. I'm so impressed with myself that I make a big mistake with my next horse—I get greedy.

I'm so amped from my first round that I ask for a little too much angle on one fence, and Bravo doesn't realize I'm actually asking him to go OVER it until the last second. Since this class isn't too small (4'-4'3"), you just can't make mistakes like that and get away with it—Bravo slams on the brakes so fast that I get pitched right up against his neck, HARD. I don't want to lose anymore time, so I swing right back around and am on the approach to the jump again, when I realize that, you know, something just doesn't feel right. I know it sounds weird, but it actually takes me a minute to figure out that I'm not in the saddle—oh *&^%&*$, I'm sitting right in front of it, on the horse's neck!!

Bravo's starting to panic, and even though I've now got my reins so short that my hands are practically touching the bridle, if there's any change at all, it's just that we're going even faster (actually, I can't blame him—if I was a horse, just minding my own business, jumping stuff, and some guy's legs were suddenly winched around my neck like death irons, I'd probably be running like hell, too). People outside the ring are saying, "Slow down . . . woah, woah, woah . . ." and for some reason, this actually makes me mad—yeah, yeah, it's just so easy when you're on the bleachers, isn't it?! Also, it might not be the best time to be doing this, but as me and Bravo do laps around the arena, I'm actually picking out the faces of people I know ("Oh hey, there's Brian and Toby, wonder what they're doing later—oh right, better get back to the galloping horse whose neck I'm sitting on").

Now, this situation is just lousy—Bravo's panicking, I'm panicking, and the only thing I've got that's even remotely close to a plan is so amazingly dumb that I can't believe I'm even considering it. But anyway, I'm thinking that maybe if I let go with my legs and time it right, I could catch the bounce of the canter and use it to sort of hop backwards into the saddle. There are two possible results to this: I could make it and stay on, or I could fall off. Either way, I'm going to look incredibly stupid, so I figure that I might as well go ahead and try it—one, two, three, and nope, I can't do it yet. I try it again—one, two, and geez, it's just not happening. All right, one more time, you wuss—one, two, three, and *doing!*. Suddenly, I'm in the saddle again, thinking, "What??? I made it? Yee-haw!!"

I halt Bravo, do a couple circles, then retire and pop a vertical we've already jumped and head for the out-gate. The audience is really nice about not laughing me out of the ring. They even clap, and for reasons of pride, I let myself pretend that they're doing this because of how blown away they are by my super-heroish determination to stay on the horse : ). This is with the exception of: Mom and Aunt Claire (who are both white and clutching their hearts like they're on the verge of a breakdown. For some reason, I find this sort of gratifying), my brother and my friends (who, because they obviously care so much for my safety and well-being, are collapsed laughing on the floor), and my girlfriend Annick and my cousin Kristen (who are waving Kristen's camcorder around and screaming, "We got it all on tape!! We got it all on tape!!" Thanks girls! Just what I was hoping to hear!). I check the rider's stand really fast to see if the team is pissed at how my round wasn't exactly first-class, but nope, they're laughing and actually giving me a standing ovation. Oh, the sarcasm.

They played Annick and Kristen's tape at the rider's dinner and kept rewinding to the part where I'm hopping backwards. You can actually see me counting, "One, two, three . . . " My brother is considerate enough to tell me that I was flaming, stop-sign red the whole time. Gee, why do I get the funny feeling that people aren't going to let me forget this one . . . oh, say, ever? So, everyone, tell me horror stories : ). Yeah, now would be a really good time to hear them.