(“If a Kardashian recommends a divorce lawyer, she’s got knowledge on her side.”)

“Lovely pair!” she exclaims, coming back from the schooling show office. “The judge wrote we make a lovely pair!” And then she discovers her barn mate’s test says the same thing. And the girl’s from across the aisle. And her mother’s. Now the words don’t glow as brightly.

What are you supposed to make of the scores and comments you get back, especially at schooling shows? Somewhat like the online quotation attributed to Abe Lincoln, “You can’t always believe what you read on the internet”, you can’t always believe what you read on your dressage test either. By the time you’re doing recognized shows, this becomes less of a problem. You’ll have been worn down by the vagaries of the system. And, thankfully, you’ll encounter a greater uniformity in how you are judged. But if you’re still passing through the Dressage Ingénue phase, it can be easy to over-value the marks and remarks you receive from a kindly soul who doesn’t want to disappoint you, or perhaps has a financial stake in being invited back. A dear lady who’d hired on to do the Intro division at a schooling show articulated her philosophy thusly: “I think everybody has something good in them, so I was sure to give every rider at least one 8.” Now I don’t mean to be badmouthing judges—the last time I looked, I am one—but I know that the advice I gave with all the best of intentions 30 or 40 years ago wasn’t worth as much as the advice I give now. Age and experience will do that for you!

One fact you need to recognize is that the judge’s authority doesn’t derive from his or her presence in the booth. Who’s doing the talking is what matters. If John Elway were to voice his opinion about quarterbacking, believe him. If he’s telling you what make of car to buy, his credibility is probably suspect. If a Kardashian recommends a divorce lawyer, she’s got knowledge on her side. Be less impressed with her endorsement of a politician.

In the schooling show ring, you’re allowed to wonder how many different horses and what range of quality your judge has ever seen. And remember, even if you know he can ride and train, it doesn’t necessarily mean he has the eye and the routine to cough up the right numbers on short notice and, under pressure, to attach accurate and helpful comments to them.

Judges’ observations fall into two general categories. First are the nuts and bolts judgments—the bend on the circle, the alignment in the leg yielding, whether the flying change is clean or late behind. You’d think this would be easy, but viewing the horses from a different angle and making split second decisions takes practice. Recently I observed an L graduate (who herself had FEI showing experience) mis-score two lines of tempis in an I-1 test. My student rode 2-3-3-3-3 and 3-2-2-2-2-2-2 and received 7s for both lines. Why? The judge had peeked at her sheet as the horse began each line and missed the mistakes. By the time she looked up, that part of the movement she saw looked beautiful. I know from experience that while judging a medium canter in a Second or Third Level test, if you can’t recall if the transition back to collection gets its own score, that moment when the horse is doing it is a bad time to look down and check. That’s exactly when an unsupple horse will switch behind for one stride. Glance down and you’ll miss it!

Aside from all the details (which do matter), a novice judge can’t get sidetracked and neglect the “big picture”. Is the acceptance real or feigned? Do the horse’s outline and his balance fulfill the requirements of the level being shown? Is the horse lively and expressive or just coasting along? These are the qualities that separate the good performances from the pretenders. If you’re being praised without delivering them, you might just want to discount that smiley face on the bottom of the sheet!

Whether to believe the advice you receive is not just an issue when it comes from the judge. Some riders are Clinic Whores. They’ll go to anybody, believe everybody, and lacking a reliable filter, tend to heed the word of whoever last had their ear.

A novice student once came back from a show saying, “I’ll never do that again. I’ll listen to what you told me in the lessons!” She then revealed that at the competition someone told her never to make her horse’s rising trot bigger than the trot she could comfortably sit to. The judge was not suitably impressed and “rewarded” her with a score in the mid-50s.

Slightly incredulous at that suggestion, I blurted, “Who the dickens (I paraphrase) said that?”

“The saddle fitter,” she admitted meekly.

I rest my case.