If Wimbledon and the Mystery Creek Fieldays cross-pollinated, they would produce the Badminton Horse Trials.
Nestled on the Duke of Beaufort's estate in Gloucestershire, the grounds form part of Britain's Conservative-blue countryside. Let's put that another way: only one party had bothered erecting election billboards amid the yellow rapeseed fields and honey-coloured Cotswold stone buildings. Prime Minister David Cameron can feel safe here.
The equestrian three-day event fits snugly into this scene, like a leg into jodhpurs. It offers a quirky collaboration of world-class horsemanship, gumboots, roast beef rolls, strawberries and clotted cream and every conceivable breed of pedigree dog for whom a two-hour crche is provided. Tweed jackets are de rigueur as people stride along lanes such as Somerset Way, Deer Park Drive and Swangrove Street.
The horse trials are the main event but the stalls surrounding them, selling everything from flameless candles to pooch paintings and homemade sausages have been developed by stakeholders to form a hub of cottage industry.
Niche markets are well catered for. Fancy a brush to tidy up at home? Try the Oxford Brush Company. What about something for the family pet? Berkeley Cole Pet Furniture ensures their comfort. And when you need a portable steeplechase fence? Willis Bros will manufacture the bespoke item.
While it is easy to formulate a caricature of 'the horsey set', no one lacks passion. Those with a limited equine knowledge can glean a lot in a limited time.
The dressage arena was so quiet during tests, you could hear the horses padding across the clipped grass with their silky gaits.
That was punctuated by polite applause afterwards, modulated by the degree of success.
Andrew Nicholson's mount Nereo entered like a soldier reporting for duty. Ah-Ten-Shun! He received a rapturous reception after accumulating just 37.8 penalty points. In contrast, Australian Andrew Hoy's mount Lanfranco reeled towards the demob happy end of the scale and received a mark of 63.7. The ovation was more empathetic. A leaderboard outside dutifully recorded each rider's effort to a gathering crowd.
There appears to be no spectator equivalents to American golf's moronic "geddindahole" brigade.
When Jock Paget took his 16-year-old bay gelding through his work, an observer uttered, "Close your mouth, Clifton Promise" as if he was Mr Ed muttering an expletive.
However, her logic was sound, as she advised her friend, "everything else is smooth but having that mouth opening shows tension, and the judges take points off". Still, Paget could be satisfied with his overall position.
Badminton provides a world of intrigue and boggles the mind as to the discipline and precision required to deliver a world-class sporting product to loyal patrons. The future of this British spring tradition looks assured.