Remembering Hickstead
By Erin Gilmore | ProEquest.com, November 6th, 2011
Just over a year ago, I sat among 6,000 of my closest friends and watched the World Championship of Show Jumping unfold in Lexington, Kentucky at the 2010 Alltech FEI World Equestrian Games. It was an exciting finish to what had already been a dramatic competition - the United States' early lead and subsequent failure to capture a WEG medal, the emergence of Middle Eastern countries as formidable show jumping competitors.
But on the night of October 10th, 2010, all eyes were focused on just four riders, and there was only one name on everyone's lips: Hickstead.
Hickstead was a freak. Hickstead was a machine. Hickstead was undoubtedly a one-rider horse. Eric Lamaze's then-14 year old Dutch-bred stallion, already the winner of so many illustrious grand prix titles around the world, was easily the most famous horse in show jumping. Together with Lamaze, they were the definition of hot, and had gained legendary status since winning the individual Olympic gold medal in 2008.
But how would Hickstead react when another rider picked up the reins? Would he come undone? The Rolex Top Four brought back the best of the best in a final competition format where each horse jumped four rounds; one under his own rider, and three more with the other top four.
Lamaze rode the stallion with an unmatched feel, and it never looked like an easy task. Hickstead would hurtle at the world's biggest fences without a break in pace, the veins standing off his neck and all four legs tucked neatly away underneath him as he jumped, landed and jumped again. Together they broke records, thrilled the crowds, took risks, jumped standards. They were admired and loved far beyond their home country of Canada.
So as the competition began, everyone whispered, Hickstead. Rodrigo Pessoa would ride Hickstead! Phillipe Le Jeune, easily a foot taller than Lamaze, would ride Hickstead! But what everyone was waiting for was seeing young Abdullah al Shabartly of Saudi Arabia take Hickstead round the world championship course. The eventual individual silver medal winner was a virtual unknown in the United States, and after a sometimes great, sometimes lucky week, he'd found himself among the top four. But could he possibly have the skill, and let's face it, the cajones, to successfully stay with Hickstead over 10 jumps?
We all know how it turned out; Hickstead proved that he was indeed a machine, jumping four clear rounds under the guidance of the Rolex Top Four riders. Sometimes it looked like they were guiding him, and sometimes it was definitely the other way around.
He didn't come undone. He jumped like the champion he was and he was awarded the title that everyone already knew him as: Best Horse of the World Equestrian Games.
That was the moment I remembered today, when the news broke that Hickstead had tragically and suddenly passed away in front of too many eyes after completing a 4-fault round of the Rolex Grand Prix of Verona CSI-W. It was a shocking and far too public way for such a champion to pass on, and my heart goes out to Eric Lamaze, who stood by helplessly as his great partner went into what will likely be confirmed as cardiac arrest.
The rest of the riders in the class declined to jump, ending the class together in the center of the arena, with a moment of silence to honor the great stallion.
Today Lamaze isn't a world champion or medal winner, he's simply a heartbroken rider who is going to miss his horse deeply when he wakes up in the morning. And for that my thoughts are with him. Hickstead may have died doing what he loved, but he deserved many more great days to live out beyond this early end.
Some solace may be found in remembering nights such as that of October 10th, 2010. Or September 11th, 2011, the day Hickstead and Lamaze won the $1 million dollar CN International at Spruce Meadows. Or September 17th, 2008, when they were crowned Olympic champions in Hong Kong.
Any day is better to remember than this one.
Rest in peace Hickstead.
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