Sport: A Touch of Iron and Elegance

Four years ago he surprised the experts by leading the U.S. Equestrian Team to a world championship at Burghley, England, and winning for himself a gold medal. Now Bruce Davidson, 28, cool, aristocratic, and every lean inch a horseman, prepared under a merciless Kentucky sun to defend his title against the best riders in his dangerous and specialized sport.

The challenge was formidable. For one thing, Davidson was pitted against competitors from a dozen countries who had gone to Lexington's new $35 million Horse Park for the quadrennial Three-Day World Championships, an equestrian event being held in the U.S. for the first time. More important, perhaps, Davidson faced one of the toughest courses ever devised for horse and rider. With roots going back to the bloody cavalry charges and elegant military tattoos of the 18th century, three-day eventing tests the full range of a mount's abilities, from deft, close-quarter maneuvers to a cross-country marathon and stadium jumping.

A rider since he was six, Davidson was as prepared as talent, diligence—and money—could make him. He and his wife Carol, the daughter of a wealthy Pennsylvania landowner, own a 109-acre farm near Unionville, Pa. When they were married in 1974, Davidson and his bride took their horses to England on their honeymoon and entered events there.

Davidson, who calls himself a "gentleman farmer" and once described his profession as caring for the family investments, trains full time, eight hours daily. Getting ready for Lexington, his mount often was Irish Cap, a big 14-year-old bay that had carried him to success in both the 1974 Burghley competition and the 1976 Olympics, where he had been a member of the winning team. Says Davidson of the unremitting work: "If you play any sport on this level, you have to give it all you have."

Then misfortune struck. Ten days before Lexington, Irish Cap went lame. Davidson immediately switched to a powerful gray named Might Tango, which had been in training at his farm. Might Tango was only seven—young for a jumper—and relatively inexperienced. Says Davidson: "It was like taking him from high school football to the Rose Bowl."

The event's first day was devoted to the stylized art of dressage, in which the rider, using reins and pressure from his legs, guides his horse through intricate maneuvers ("Serpentine three loops, the first and the third at canter, the second counter-canter ..."). Davidson kept Might Tango under control: "I had to hold him back and keep him from exploding." And although the young horse lacked "precision," as the experts say, he still did well enough to finish eleventh.

On the second day came the demanding event—the most important in the scoring—that the 70,000 spectators in the Horse Park had waited eagerly to see: the four-part endurance run over a course so tough that many experts there called it the most strenuous in the world. Among those watching was Britain's Prince Philip, president of the International Equestrian Federation and a fine rider himself; he was, he said, glad he did not have to compete over the course.