RULES’ DEATH SPIRAL
I am a devoted fan of figure skating at the “upper levels.” Watching a successful quad or an incredible pairs performance is almost as exciting to me as watching WFP romp around the Rolex course. (I do, however, admit to drawing the fan line at Ice Dancing “PT and D”- Post Torvill and Dean!). I have admired clips of the Protopopovs doing their signature “Death Spiral” in their Gold Medal performance in the early 50’s and still marvel at it even though the only time I saw them live three decades later, they looked terribly frail. If you’ve never seen a death spiral, it’s very cool. The male skater stands and holds the hand of his female counterpart who spirals in a circle around him sinking lower and lower with each rotation.
So what exactly is the point of my nattering on about this? Probably not much except that it recently struck me that the rules in our sport today, perhaps reflective of the rules that govern all of our lives, are in a kind of death spiral. Instead of working to make the rules that govern us less complicated and more easily understood, it seems that we are adding more and more in response to specific incidents that arise – and may or may not ever arise again. We have in effect become incident-specific “reactive” rather than globally “proactive.”
All this pondering was actually prompted by a conference call I took part in several weeks ago. One of the participants, a well respected official, was relating an incident that had occurred at an event the weekend before. The parent of a child was claiming that the dimensions of a jump on a Beginner Novice course exceeded specifications. In this case, the point in question was the depth of a shallow ditch. The concerned parent apparently became somewhat argumentative. The official took the time to talk with her at length, and hopefully a positive resolution and some education resulted. Someone on the call then suggested that perhaps we need a specific rule governing the exact depth of ditches at that level. At that point, I’m ashamed to admit that I lost it and inquired (not at all sweetly) why the Hell we had to make a rule for every (bleep)ing thing in our sport – or something to that effect. Following an embarrassed silence, a quick change of subject ensued.
Unless one is a total anarchist, rules are necessary evils. If everyone behaved at all times and always did the honorable and right thing, there’d be far fewer – but that’s not the way it is. Looking at our own eventing rules, something that I have done for many years, I think they break down into two categories – Necessary and P.I.T.A. Necessary rules are those that strive to ensure safety for horse and rider and maintain the same conditions as much as possible for everyone across the board. Emergency requirements and fence types and dimensions for each level of expertise fall into this category (although the latter seem to be creeping into the “guidelines” category which in my opinion is not necessarily an entirely good thing). P.I.T.A. rules are those that have absolutely no bearing on safety or performance. Why in God’s name should the absence of gloves in dressage at the FEI level be punishable by elimination? Does a tail bandage or length of sleeves or wearing a stock when going without coats really make a difference in how a horse performs or in rider safety?
I also am fighting the nagging and rather nasty thought that keeps skittering across my brain that these “added on” new rules are coming into being partly because the officials who are responsible for enforcing the rules lack the experience – or skill – or balls – or whatever to make any call without a specific published rule to back it up. Instead of making calls that speak to thespirit and intent of a rule, they cry out for something in print that will precisely justify their ruling. Granted, it’s a helluva lot safer and easier to point to a sentence in the rule book than to actually take the time to educate the person inquiring about the situation. This is lame. A large and particularly unpleasant reason for this tendency is that many officials have expressed a fear of being sued. How sad is that? And how sad is it that a beginner novice rider would even contemplate calling a lawyer over disputed time faults? But it’s happened. I occasionally find myself asking if I really want to be associated with this sport any more!
Upon rereading all this, I admit to sounding pretty negative about the current state of the sport of eventing. Possibly this is a result of having experienced a particularly crappy week – but that is no excuse. I love this sport, but I do also span a generation gap that had it’s start in a kinder, gentler and less intense time. I think we do tend to take ourselves a little too seriously and forget the reason why most of us choose to stay involved. Eventing provides an environment that promotes a wonderful rapport between man and horse, and if I choose to carp about what I see are some flaws, it is only in hopes of giving a needed half halt – a jolt that will force us to step back a pace and examine where we are going and why.
Back to my bat cave!
