You actually made me laugh out loud. I rewatched the piaffe video the other day and it was certainly more “passionate” than I’d remembered.
Passionate humpiaffe is the perfect description.
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The music gets me every time. 
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Did you ever see the interview with NP (where he interviewed himself) asking himself about why he didn’t continue with his Olympic dreams as he’s so very good, and people ask him why he was never chosen for the Olympics ALL THE TIME? It’s absolute gold comedy.
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I think you’ve captured this 100%.
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Sorry, my mistake, here’s the link to his blog and it’s DEFINITELY NOT WRITTEN BY HIM because “This article and blog is not written by Nick Peronace, but a devoted fan, follower and friend, who chooses to remain anonymous based on the harassment and destructive behavior others have experienced when they testified to Nick’s amazing training abilities. He has requested that I not write this, but I insist that the truth must come out!”
https://nickperonacedressage.blogspot.com
It’s written in black on a chocolate background, so haul out your glasses.
This is his blog post (on a different blog page) about his Olympic aspirations …
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He could have been Trump’s press secretary.
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He was his “investigative journalist” for awhile….does that count???
:dizzy:
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Just a quick FYI!!!
Everytime you click on his blog he can track your IP address. That’s why he always suggests people go directly to his blog/website page.
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Is that actually possible? He’d be a busy boy if so. 
Reading that blog post was like reading his book. It starts out wistfully enough. He’s certainly not the first naive, young equestrian who had The Olympic Dream and thought they just needed to be discovered in order to represent their country. So I get that part. But then the bitterness, hostility and rampant ego take over and, well, the rest is his legacy.
He never seemed to learn that:
- Life is unfair. Get over it.
- Ability without humility, graciousness, honesty and hard work gets you nowhere.
- If you want to be happy, bloom where you’re planted.
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Well yeah, when I was 10 watching National Velvet.
But then I started riding, and growing up and learned a bit about the world and hard work.
There’s where he’s unique… He has these fantasies still, as an adult, and he hasn’t done and chooses not to do the work it takes to climb the ladder .
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What amazes me, time after time with NP, is that he wants everything handed to him, without doing the work. You are supposed to believe that he can do what he says he can do. The fact that he no longer rides isn’t supposed to be an issue, but how can it not be? He has absolutely nothing to show that he can take a horse through the levels, let alone build the most important basics. The training pyramid is something that he must believe is in Giza.
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He lived within commuting distance of his Mecca, ISF.
He could have gotten a job there, and lest he argue yes it paid decent… but he didn’t.
That says everything to me.
When I worked there, I was living several hours away.
But I saw an opportunity to work with some very nice horses, learn from some of the best, and earn a decent living. So I went and I did.
.
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Well that was throwing away a wonderful opportunity. I have never been there so this is based on video. I will say this - the people riding their sale horses are lovely riders and the horses look very well trained. I only wish I rode as well as their sale riders and had that opportunity when I was young.
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No one familiar with NP would allow the heavy piano crotch hands to hold the reins of a full bridle on one of their horses.
Yeah, yeah, where are my GP credentials, I know, Nick. I freely admit I don’t even have first level creds, but therein lies one difference between you and me. I KNOW my limits and would never dream of inflicting my dressage incapabilities on anyone.
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Nick has stans, who knew? 
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From Nick’s Q and A from his beloved fan:
“Q: What do you have to say about the obvious hate campaign against you?
A: I was able to train (largely self train) my Appaloosa Quarter Horse to Grand Prix when I was only 17. Their heads exploded with jealousy when they learned this about me.”
He’s right. I’m consumed with jealously. Every morning I wake up, I wish to look like a monkey “gently caressing” a football when I ride.
Groan.
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I’m just tired of having to reassemble my cranium after it “explodes with jealousy” every time I read about the Maestro’s wondrous feats of horsemanship.
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