The Drivers Meet The Eddie and Mike
The first thing Eddie noticed was that nobody sat where he had expected them to. He had arranged the chairs in a loose semicircle in the corner of the covered arena, thinking it would make the first meeting feel informal.
Instead, Barb Andrews had chosen the one directly opposite Eddie and was sitting upright with her arms folded. Thom Rose stood against the arena wall rather than sitting at all. Julia Duffy had a notebook open on her lap. And Fritz Vollmer was already writing.
Mike stood behind Eddie, broad shoulders filling out his jacket, arms folded across his chest. He was a muscular Latino man with an easy smile and the habit of looking at the horses before he looked at the people.
Eddie looked at Fritz. "Have I said anything worth writing down yet?"
"Not yet." Fritz looked up.
A couple of people laughed. Eddie grinned. "Fair enough. Give it time."
"He's got the notebook ready, hermano." Mike shook his head.
Fritz looked at him. "I'm taking notes."
"I can see that, amigo."
Deanna Chu arrived last, slightly breathless, carrying a coffee.
"Sorry. I was talking to somebody outside."
"Aye, you've got time," Eddie said. "We're not going anywhere."
"I know. I just didn't want to miss anything," Deanna said.
"You haven't missed a thing."
Deanna dropped into the empty chair beside Julia. "Good."
Eddie leaned against the rail.
"Right, then. I'm Eddie Munro. Most of you know that already, so I'm not going to bore you with the life story. What matters is what we're going to do here."
Barb raised an eyebrow, and Eddie noticed.
"Something you want to add?"
"No."
"That sounded suspiciously like a yes."
A faint smile tugged at Barb's mouth. "I was just wondering what you mean by 'what we're going to do.'"
"Fair question." Eddie straightened. "We're going to drive safely. We're going to improve. And we're going to learn why we're doing things instead of simply memorising where we're supposed to put the wheels."
Fritz's pencil moved faster. Eddie glanced at him. "You've got a lot of questions, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Good. Keep them coming."
Fritz looked pleased. Carl Buckley chuckled from beside him.
"Don't encourage him," Carl warned.
"Why not?" Eddie said.
"He'll never stop." Carl rolled his eyes.
"That's true." Mike nodded solemnly.
Fritz looked offended. "I don't ask that many questions."
Everyone looked at him. Fritz considered this.
"Okay. I ask a lot of questions."
"Aye. And that's not a bad thing, " Eddie said with a laugh. Carl nodded.
"You've worked with Fritz?"
"A bit." Carl admitted.
Fritz interrupted. "Carl taught me cones."
"I helped," Carl corrected.
"You taught me."
"I showed you what I knew."
"And you said you weren't qualified to coach me."
Carl looked at Eddie. "You see what I mean?"
"Aye. I do."
Fritz leaned forward. "Can I ask something now?"
"That's what we're here for." Eddie gestured toward him.
"How do you teach a pony to turn faster without making him rush?"
"That's a good question." Eddie's expression changed immediately. He was no longer simply meeting the group. Now he was talking horses.
Fritz waited.
"You don't teach him to turn faster first. You teach him to stay balanced through the turn. If speed becomes the goal, you'll eventually have a pony that's quick but crooked, and that's no use to anybody."
Fritz wrote that down.
"Exactly." Mike nodded.
Eddie glanced at him. "You're stealing my lines already?"
.
"Just making sure they understood, hermano."
Eddie looked around the group. "That's the sort of thing I want us working on. Balance first. Then speed. Get the basics right and the speed will come."
"That's sensible,' Barb said with a nod.
"Good." Eddie said.
Deanna leaned forward. "So what about people who aren't beginners?"
"Same principles."
"Even if they think they already know what they're doing?" Deanna looked sceptical.
"Especially then." Eddie said firmly.
"That's a dangerous answer." Barb said.
"How so?"
"Because experienced drivers don't always appreciate being told they need to change something." Barb said with a small smile.
"Neither do horses." Eddie gave her a crooked smile as he said it.
That got a laugh from nearly everyone. Even Thom smiled. Eddie looked toward him.
"And yourself?" Eddie asked.
Thom shrugged. "What about me? I drive, but I'm not a combined driver."
"What do you want to get out of this?" Eddie asked curiously.
"Work." Thom said shortly.
"Meaning?"
"Better work."
Eddie waited.
Thom finally added, "My drafts are strong. Sometimes too strong. I'd like them to listen sooner."
Eddie nodded.
"Aye. That's something we can work on until you can find a coach for pleasure driving.
Thom gave a grunt that seemed to mean agreement.
Eddie turned toward Bill.
"And yourself?"
"Me?" Bill pointed at his chest.
"Aye, you."
"I'd like to stop making stupid mistakes."
Barb snorted. Bill looked at her. "See? That's why I didn't want to say anything."
"You make different mistakes every time," Barb said.
"That's called variety," Bill said with a shrug.
The group laughed and loosened up a bit. Eddie let it.
He wasn't interested in making them sit silently while he delivered a lecture. He wanted to hear how they talked about their horses, because that told him more than a list of competition results ever would.
Julia raised her hand.
Eddie blinked.
"You don't need to put your hand up."
She lowered it. "Okay."
"What were you going to ask?"
"How do you decide whether a horse is actually refusing an instruction or whether the driver gave an unclear instruction?"
Eddie considered that. "That's a very good question."
Julia's pencil was ready.
"You start by assuming the horse is trying to understand you. Then you look at what you actually told him. Your hands. Your voice. Your body. Your timing. Your line. If all of those make sense and he still says no, then you investigate why."
"That's what I thought." Julia nodded thoughtfully.
"Aye. And that's an important distinction."
She looked up. "Why?"
"Because it's very easy to blame the horse when the mistake might've been yours. A good driver asks, 'What did I tell him?' before asking, 'Why didn't he listen?'"
Julia wrote that down, too. Eddie noticed.
"You're already ahead of some people."
She smiled. Fritz looked over at her notebook.
"What did you write?" he asked.
Julia showed him. Fritz immediately copied the phrasing. Deanna watched the two of them and smiled.
"You two are going to become impossible."
"Probably," Julia said.
Fritz nodded seriously. Eddie laughed, then continued.
"Right. One more thing." "I'm not interested in having everyone drive exactly the same way. You've got different horses, different strengths, different problems, different goals. My job is to help you become better drivers—not turn you into copies of one another."
Carl nodded slowly. Barb uncrossed her arms. Thom finally pulled a chair away from the wall and sat down. Bill stopped rocking his chair.
Eddie noticed all of it.
"So, next time, I want to see your horses. Not your best behaviour. Your actual horses."
"You're going to regret saying that," Bill said, grinning wide.
"Aye," Eddie said. "Probably."
Deanna laughed.
"And I'll be there." Mike pushed himself away from the wall.
Eddie looked at him. "You'll be there."
Mike nodded. "I'll make sure everybody has what they need. Harness, carts, water, whatever. If something's missing, tell me." He pointed at the group. "And if you break something, don't hide it from me. I find out anyway, amigos."
"Fair enough," Carl said.
Eddie sighed. "Fritz."
"What?"
"You can stop taking notes." Eddie stared at him for a moment.
Mike laughed. "He's not stopping, hermano."
Fritz kept writing.
(1286 words)