With all this practice – Josey Ranch, roping club, high school rodeos– you probably think I might have just gone on and been a professional rodeo star. 

You would be mistaken. 

One of our group of friends did actually join the PRCA and take his show on the road, but I was definitely not he.

Even though I finished in the money at shows here and there around East Texas at the high school level, I was not….great. I feel an honest assessment was that I was average. I could catch most of the time. Catching to me seemed to be less than half of the battle. I had a well-trained horse, and I could swing a rope. That can be said about 80% of the people that pay an entry fee. My dismount was horrible. My run to the calf was downright dangerous. I struggled with throwing the calves, and my tying needed much more practice. I knew the fundamentals, but executing them at a professional level hadn’t come to me yet. 

One of my most influential instructors at Josey’s Ranch was Danny Rienhardt. (He and his wife have their own rodeo clinics now.) He was the man. He wasn’t the youngest, flashiest, cockiest guy around, but he knew things. I looked up to him and I credit him for any calf roping success I had at the time. 

When I think about my times at Josey’s, and Danny in particular, I have two default memories. 

The first is when he made me put my rope down, and throw pinecones at the head of a roping dummy. He wouldn’t let me pick up my rope again until I could bounce those pinecones consistently off the top of its head from any position. Possibly the greatest lesson learned right there. If you are having issues catching, put the rope down and get a pile of rocks. It’s the same motion, and if you can hit that thing consistently with a rock, then you can rope it. 

The second was a story he told about humiliation and how you handle pride can change the course of your life. I have no way of knowing if this was a true story, or simply a morality tale designed to make young men invincible, but either way it sticks with you. Even if it is a harder lesson to actually learn than throwing rocks. 

He began telling of a woman that was rising in the PRCA as a champion barrel racer. She wasn’t there yet, but she was known and was definitely an ‘up and comer.’ Rodeo stardom is also about image. She had that in spades. She had the nice glittery shirts, clean white hat and pants, and all the other things that make the girls in rodeo ‘fancy.’  What most didn’t know was that she wore a wig to make up for the flowing hair that she didn’t have, but wanted. 

She was entered up in a particular rodeo and it was the show that changed her life. Running out at full speed towards the first barrel all was well. Then her horse got spooked for reasons unknown around that first barrel and gave a half buck. The barrel fell away. Unfortunate time penalty, but all is not lost. Then she lost a stirrup coming up on the second barrel and fell forward across the neck of her horse. She struggled to regain control and her horse plowed  right through that barrel. Her hat flew off one way, and her wig…flew the other as the horse ran for the third barrel. She was desperately trying to regain her balance, control her horse, and cover her head as she approached the third barrel. She miraculously made the third barrel clean, but her exit was in tears. She ran through the gate and didn’t stop until she was at her trailer weeping uncontrollably. Humiliated, she loaded up her horse, left, and disappeared from the circuit never to be seen again in pro rodeo. 

Danny said that a different attitude, a different perspective, could have changed how that day ended and may have cemented her future in the sport. He suggested that since you know that bad runs ARE going to happen,  and that every run won’t be perfect, you will be better prepared for it. If you are willing to show humility and have confidence in the knowledge that they won’t ALL be bad, you can overcome the ones that are. 

His suggestion:

Since she knew the time was not going to be competitive that day, she should have just gotten her horse under control after the second barrel. He asked us to imagine that instead of finishing the run in a blur of tears, she had reined in, and finished the pattern at a trot. 

He said, “Imagine that instead of running from her humiliation she had stood proudly in her stirrups, KICKED that last barrel over in an act of defiance, and had given a princess wave all the way out of the arena.”

His theory was that they would have given her a standing ovation instead of the muffled applause and hushed tones. They would have rallied behind her and cheered her the entire way, instead of watching her leave without a backward glance. 

Like I say, he was a strong man. It takes a strong man to envision that scenario and believe he could handle it in that manner. I certainly wasn’t that man.

There are certain things that I absolutely know about myself. To make myself feel better about these things, I imagine that it is the exact same for all, or most, people. One of these things is this: 

I can be driving alone, standing in a crowd, queued up in a line, or even just watching TV with my wife, and I will recall an embarrassing incident from 40 years ago with no prompting. I will audibly go: “ugh” or “uhhhmm” and make a weird face. 

It happens to me. 

I just assume it happens to everyone else because if it is only me, well…. in my mind that would make me less of a person than others around me.

Now for my story. 

If you have ever seen me make a random sour face and grunt without explanation, this is probably the story that I just thought of. 

In competition events at the age I was, you could carry a spare rope. The idea is that if you miss, you reach down, grab that loop and catch on a second try. It won’t be a record time, but if no one else had a second loop and they fell short…..well a catch is a catch. 

I’m in the box ready to go. I’m doing what I love and have a nervousness in the pit of my stomach as always. I’m doing all the right things. I have my rope ready, hand on the saddle horn to pull myself up and forward, my horse knows it’s time. 

I give the nod. It was a perfect beginning. The calf gets a head start, and if you are early, you are penalized. I was gold. I was on that calf in two jumps and then I made a horrible throw. No matter, I have a spare and no one else has caught tonight. If I can manage to put it on the end of a rope, I may make the money. I reach down and grab the extra rope and I pull it up, breaking the string it’s tied with. 

Notice I said “pull it up.” If you have ever carried a spare loop, you know that is incorrect. You must pull it “out.” The reason you don’t pull it up is because it will go under your leg and get stuck. It’s a known issue that you practice for, but apparently I hadn’t practiced enough. That loop was pulled most of the way up under my leg and stirrup. I yanked at it twice before I ever realized what was happening. 

I can hear the announcer say, ‘Oh it looks like he missed, but he has an extra rope…’ and he goes into an explanation of how a cowboy is allowed another rope in situations just like this. At this point my horse is on autopilot chasing that poor calf and I’m trying to lift my leg out and untangle myself from this mess. Nothing is working, it is wedged under my thigh at this point. Everything is going in slow motion and I can hear the announcer being helpful and supportive. 

“It’s hung up under your leg, cowboy…”

I don’t know how long it took for me to get that damn loop free. When I finally did, I threw it perfectly, got my catch, ran down and tied that animal. I know that as I walked back to my horse and mounted back up I felt like I was going to vomit. The judges declared it a good tie. The audience gave me a very supportive round of applause. Rodeo people are generally good people, then and now. 

In rodeo the bucking events are measured in seconds. You ride that bull or bronc for eight seconds and you are done. Steer wrestling is usually over quicker than a successful bull ride. Team roping is a less than ten second event. Barrel racing runs are started and finished in less than twenty seconds. 

As I was gathering up my dual ropes I learned something I hadn’t known at the time. The announcer explained it to me and the crowd at the same time.

“Let’s give that cowboy a big hearty round of applause. That is all he will be taking home today. That fouled rope cost him. There is a 60-second limit in calf roping.”

60 seconds… Imagine riding in circles on a horse in front of a huge crowd of peers, participants and onlookers for SIXTY seconds while they all scream…”It’s under your leg!!”

There was no princess wave. There were no tears but there was a huge amount of humiliation. I don’t know if that was my absolute last rodeo night, but I have no memory of ever roping from a horse again. I replay that one event over and over… More than I remember ANY of my successful catches and wins. 

It hits completely different.