Will it be Willig ... or Anti-Willig?

Willig means "willing" (roughly) in German. When I bought him, his name was Willy, and I had a German trainer, and Willy makes me think of those silly willies, so I kept the pronunciation mostly the same (i.e. not in Deutsch) and went with something that meant more to me.
So the "anti" in the title is when Willig is in one of his moods. Which he was when we went to school at NWEC yesterday. Now, when Willig is in one of his moods and I have a trainer, we learn tons and tons of stuff. But it's not fun.
Here are the high points:
Ride 2-point in between fences. About 10 strides out, sit up a bit. About 2 strides out, sit the rest of the way up.
The down bank is seat-glued-to-saddle. Question: How do you do that without ripping Willig's face? Answer: (did not come to me on my own, despite being told it last schooling) Let the reins out. Open your fingers. But not if he's in a bucky mood, then, just rip him in the face.
Ditches are still Willig's foes. Willig-eaters, he thinks. As an aside, today, in a halter with a long lead line, we spent - I don't know - 15 minutes? - jumping the one at home. That mostly consisted of me jumping back and forth and back and forth on my sprained ankle while he watched. But eventually, he got it. And by "got it", I mean he would exaggeratedly rock back, then lurch forward like a rocket with the propulsion system set too high - stumble furiously on the far side - and then vigorously eat grass like nothing happened.
Pull him the OPPOSITE way of the way he is trying to dart out. If he's trying to go right, pull left. Not pull right so he makes a circle to the right. (This is very, very heavily ingrained in me. I finally got it correct a couple of times, but only after Shannon had the opportunity to say it, oh, approximately 25 times.)
Growl, kick, click, whip, WHATEVER, just do something on the way to the fence when he is hesitating. I got one pitiful click and Shannon whooped with joy - at this enormous old growth log that I swear was 3' around. The time before he had refused it, managing to run out PAST a second old growth (even bigger), before I yanked left (we were going right) and then we clambered over it. Clambered. My friend's mom said he kind of had to tippy toe with his back feet on the log. (But to say something nice about Willig, he hopped right in and out of their trailer like he's a trailer king. Theirs is a 4-star and I really like it compared to mine, which now has peeling paint.)
When Willig is in a naughty/bucky/disobedient/lazy mood, he has to work harder to not jump the fences than to just go over them already. (He was the opposite of our Caber xc ride and our last schooling at NWEC and our last schooling at home. So he fooled me into thinking he was over himself and we were just going to jump from now on.) He might have to gallop. He might have to make a 10 meter canter circle. He might have to do some crazy leg yielding. But in all of this - I ride with my hands pushed into his neck just in front of the breastplate.
And here is the miraculous discovery, that wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been being such a shit. I let go - about two strides out I completely let go of the reins - I put them up on his neck in anticipation of the fence (I don't jump ahead, I just go ahead and shove my hands up) and ... THAT'S HOW HE'S ALWAYS RUNNING OUT.
Duh.
Now - I have my reasons for doing this, but the common sense effect, and the whole "why does he keep running out?" question never connected these for me, until Shannon told me to clamp my hands, and I was like "well then how do I let go before the fence?" and to her credit, she didn't laugh out loud at me.
What else? Willig can jump big jumps. The bigger the jump, the easier he is to ride (in the air). It's easier to balance and not jump ahead if he's jumping something that he actually puts some effort into. This has been dawning on me, but got cemented over that old growth log. The part where we take off and are in the air and landing - piece of cake and like heaven. The part a few strides out and a few strides after still needs work. But my lord, the flying part - I don't want to do anything else with my life but keep improving so I can do that more.
Three people had told me he had been bucking in the stall that morning, but I was so excited about going to school that I ignored it. (Another huge thing disguised there. I have pretty much hated jumping for the last 2 years, and for the last 6 months, that hate has been turning back into love. Thanks to Shannon.) And then he started out terrified of the woods, running out over utility pole sized fences, charging the fences, and taking off afterwards. Then, horrors, some people walked by on the trail, and that's when he started the bucking, and did this rodeo routine in a circle for a while.
The good news? I'm not scared of the fences (except the ditch) anymore, or the heights, and I'm not scared of falling off because my position and my "toolkit" are so much better than they were last year.
The bad news? I still can't get him over fences when *I* want him to go over them without a lot of struggle and a lot of instructions yelled from Shannon. It must be exhausting for her to teach me. I am so slow to respond and then I immediately do it wrong the very next time, with the very same clues ahead of time.
So he was refusing, bucking (little bucks), etc. and then we did the ditch a few lengths behind our friend, and victory was ours! He just lept right over it! And then just as quickly, we were snatched from the jaws of victory into the stronghold of defeat because he stumbled, went down on his knees (nothing to do with the ditch), and then came up lame on his right front leg. Which he held out, shaking, until he saw the tractor, then he forgot he was lame to look at the tractor. So we tried the ditch again after a few laps of checking him out - no victory in sight. After a couple tries, Shannon sent us back to the baby ditch (the bank) to do it by ourselves (that alone was a small triumph for me), then back to the ditch behind our friend. Nope. He was wise to the evil tricky ways of the ditch. So then I got off, so Shannon could lead him over it. He hesitated, looking, lept huge, and lept so huge she had to let go of the reins, which he almost immediately stepped on, broke, and then started to trot back to the trailer - just slow enough to taunt us. Well, my friend's mom thought fast, pulled a granola bar out of her pocket, and the rascal turned around and came back for the granola bar. Then we made one long rein, which worked great for his super-launches, and Shannon led him over the ditch over and over (which begs the question why the one at home was such a huge deal with me today). And we quit on that.
It was very, very educational.
What I can't decide on are the three remaining recognized shows. While I think he isn't going to improve any riding at home, with timid me, I think it might be too much for this year. I think I'm going to ride the remaining derby, volunteer at the next two shows, and then hopefully ride the final show of the year. And then we'll work hard all winter to be ready for as much as we can afford next spring. Because I don't think we'll be bringing home many $300 ribbons. But the year after that ... we'll be rock stars.