“You’re the best in the world, Guch. You’re the best in the world.”

“You’re the best in the world, Guch. You’re the best in the world.”

I whisper those words to him every time we head toward the centerline. It’s our moment—quiet, personal, grounding. It’s not something I’ve ever shared with many people, but it’s the most meaningful part of every ride. Those words are a promise, a thank-you, and a reminder that no matter what happens in the ring, I trust him completely.

When I say it, he listens. His ears flick back, his stride steadies, and it’s like he’s telling me, I’m here, I’ve got you. In that moment, the weight of competition fades. It’s not about scores or ribbons—it’s about partnership, about everything we’ve been through together. Gucci doesn’t just carry me physically; he carries me emotionally. He’s my teammate, my anchor, my greatest teacher.

At the end of every ride, no matter the score, I always take a moment to wrap my arms around him. I hug him tightly, thanking him for keeping me safe, for helping me chase my dreams, and for giving everything he has, every single time. That’s the heart of it for me—not the test or the applause, but that bond, that trust. Gucci is the best in the world, and not because of what he does in the arena. He’s the best because of who he is and what he’s given me. And for that, I’ll never stop being grateful.