a razorback hog. I’m not talking about their build or pedigree, but
their demeanour. Most people in polo would never throw a leg over
something so wild. Not only was Stevie riding in business clothes
on a cold windy day, he had to navigate these colts from the barn up
a narrow strip of land that was between a paved road and a steep hill
down to the polo field – all this to reach a muddy outdoor area.
Most horse trainers I know would neither have the gumption
nor the savvy to pull this off, but up the road came Stevie – step,
As far as St Louis went, Stevie was St Louis Polo, spreading his
energy throughout the city to unite players and offer hospitality
to newcomers. I was one of many people who received Stevie’s
generosity when passing through St Louis with horses. The
Orthwein’s polo field in the suburb of Huntleigh is one of the
most pristine facilities in the US – a deck built into a hillside
that overlooks a field surrounded by hardwoods. For viewing
a polo match, it rivals any setting in the United States.
What impressed me most about Stevie was his ability and
passion as a horseman. During a cold rainy spring season, I was
travelling through St Louis with six horses and was staying over
for the night. Stevie had come home from the office and was riding
his young horses. I’d like to remember that he was riding in business
pants and loafers. Maybe he had boots on, but he was definitely
wearing business pants.
What made this unusual was not only his attire, but what he
was riding. They were nice young homebred thoroughbreds, but that
day they resembled something like a cross between a bobcat and
WH AT I MP R E S S E D ME MO S T
A B O U T S T E V I E WA S H I S A B I L I T Y
A N D P A S S I O N A S A H O R S E M A N
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