Between 2011 and 2016, Betty Finke was a regular columnist for The Arabian Magazine. Some fifteen years down the line, we thought that now would be a good time to share Betty’s articles, which remain as pertinent as ever.
Just recently, the realisation struck me quite out of the blue: it is exactly 40 years ago that I visited my very first Arabian horse show. To be precise, it was the last weekend in July 1972, and the show was none other than the Arab Horse Society Show, then held at Kempton Park. So, I am having an anniversary this year. How time flies!
It was only a year or so since I had discovered Arabians, and I am not entirely certain anymore how that happened. Like most kids of my generation that liked horses, I had of course read the usual books that featured or included Arabians, such as The Black Stallion, King of the Wind, and My Friend Flicka, but I failed to register Arabians as anything special or different. I have never forgotten a part of a conversation I had with a girl from my class as we walked to school one morning, although I remember neither her name nor her face. While on the subject of horses, she remarked in a rather disparaging manner: “I don’t understand what people see in Arabians. They are no different from other horses.” To which I, with all the wisdom of my 12 or 13 years, replied: “No, I don’t understand that either.”
Ah, the ignorance of youth…
In case anyone wonders why, although I live in Germany, the very first Arabian show I visited was in Britain, the answer is simply that until 1978, Germany didn’t have any; at least nothing on the scale of a National Championship. If I am not entirely mistaken, Britain has the oldest continuously held national Arabian horse show in the world. Now that’s continuity! It may have changed location several times, going from Roehampton to Kempton Park to Ascot to Malvern, but it is still the same show and is still the one that I enjoy most.
Why? Because it has some things that other shows don’t have, and it also lacks certain things that other shows have. It is far less frantic than the average continental show, which may have something to do with the fact that the continental star trainers are usually absent. And if, on occasion, one of them is there, he is under permanent observation! And while audience participation has increased hugely – and with it the general noise level – enthusiasm is not a bad thing as such, even if it can be a bit heavy on the eardrums.
There are bigger classes and a bigger ring. It is definitely the show where I am most likely to see horses trotting out properly instead of jumping frantically around. It has comparative judging by one judge, which in my book makes it much easier to follow. Besides which, you don’t have to keep jotting down scores, you don’t have half a dozen people blocking your view of the horse at any given time, and you have all horses in the ring at the same time during the class. There are, even in this day and age of professional showing, still owners that show their own horses, and hooray for them. There are still people who smile even if they don’t win and are proud of their horses anyway. There are ring stewards and DCs who know what they’re supposed to do. There are classes for geldings and for veterans; we don’t even manage senior classes above three horses anymore over here, it seems. There is an unbeatable setting. And nowadays, there are even Crabbet classes; and may I take this occasion to throw a great big ‘BOO’ and a half dozen of virtual rotten eggs at whoever conceived the harebrained idea of moving them to Ring 5. I am still trying to figure out how I can split myself temporarily in two without suffering any permanent damage.
Oh, and there’s the weather… And if that’s a good or a bad thing depends on the occasion. You’re just as likely to get roasted or get soaked; the one thing you can be sure of is that it will be interesting. I shall never cease to admire the efficiency with which handlers, stewards, and judges can adapt to whatever the heavens choose to throw at them.
It is the horses themselves that have changed most dramatically in those 40 years, with the new imported lines now taking precedence over the old English lines. If it wasn’t for the Crabbet classes, which the powers that be seem to have decreed nobody should see this year, they would be largely absent. But this has given me an idea for a special anniversary project: this year, I am going to have a look at how many, if any, of this year’s entries have any connection to the horses I saw at Kempton in 1972. I am rather curious what the result will be.
Meanwhile, I am looking forward to the show: to the hills, to the horses, to meeting friends old and new; heck, even to the unpredictable weather and the cheeseburgers and the tea in paper cups. There is nothing like Malvern on the last weekend of July. Be seeing you there!
First published in The Arabian Magazine July 2012
