Sweat. A lot of sweat. And it was running down the back of my neck and down the middle of my back. And in the midst of all the noise of the arena and the tension and gut grinding fear I was feeling, for some reason... it was the feel of the ticklish sweat which my mind seemed to be trying to focus on. And that was just plain crazy. Old Star was a dangerous animal and the fear I felt was for a good reason. “Concentrate! Come on….do it” I silently yelled at myself.
This old bull had already put two of my fellow bull riders off the circuit this year. Sam is still going through rehab down in McAllen. He is trying to recover the feeling in his left arm from the crushing he took up against the stall gate from Old Star at the Triple T ranch as they tried to load the old bull for a trip to the Mesquite rodeo. It took five of them to lasso and pull the old bull away from Sam far enough for Slim to haul him up and over the top to safety. And Billy Williams got spun off and into the clown’s barrel at the Fort Small rodeo. It was ugly. They say he may be able to ride in 2-3 months. As I tried to settle down onto Old Star’s back, the memories of what he had already done to Sam and Billy slipped back into my mind with such force that I seemed to see Billy’s face there before me briefly with the blood spurting out of his mouth and nose all over again. I had to shake my head hard to get the image out.
Suddenly… the noise of the crowd is silenced! I look up and they are still there… standing, pointing, mouths open and appearing to be shouting… yet, everything is eerily quiet around me. Tom, who is helping me by holding one arm protectively in front of me as I settle down is saying something….I can see his mouth moving but I don’t hear a thing! I know the announcer is announcing me and saying stuff…but I can’t hear him. Actually, I do but his voice is so far away I can’t make it out. The bull’s head seems to be moving up and down in slow motion… even Tom seems to be in slow motion! I slap my gripping hand hard, put my free hand up on the top bar and look briefly at Tom…I still can’t hear him… but I see his mouth and I realize he is asking me if I am ready. I nod a couple of hard times and tuck my chin down tight to my chest. Here we go!
Thinking back on it now, it seems that Old Star exploded under me kind of sideways instead of turning and vaulting out into the arena as he would be expected to do. And the noise of the crowd seemed to explode around me at the same time. Everything seemed to happen all at once! Old Star exploded outwards to the side, the noise exploded all around me, and I heard Tom yelling “Stay tight!” and “He’ll turn right!” I distinctly remember him saying those things. Old Star didn’t turn right. He exploded out. The violence of his exit of the shute was greater than any bull’s I have ever ridden. He landed stiff legged and the jarring hurt me from my tail bone to the top of my head which felt that it would come off. I knew I had to stay on for the whole eight seconds to get into third place. I also knew so many had crashed out of the competition that all I had to do was stay on and I would be in the money. I also knew this animal could and would hurt me bad. I remember thinking that as long as I stayed on, he wouldn’t be able to run me down. I decided I’d hang on as long as I could…maybe he’d get tired and just walk off and I would be able to climb off onto the fence as he walked by it. Looking back on it now, I realize how dumb that sounds but as I was being jarred into hurtin’ pieces and seeing the starts in front of my eyes as my head felt it was going to come off, it made perfect sense.
Old Star landed with the thud of an earthquake’s strength. My right hand went numb gripping the rope. I tried to give a kick or two with my left leg but Old Star seemed to suddenly switch ends and my left leg couldn’t find any bull to kick. I remember being puzzled by that and wondering where the bull’s side was. Then my left leg connected… with my right leg! I realized suddenly that the only part of me still connected to Old Star was my right hand tightly entwined in the riding rope. And I remember how long Old Star’s body looked as I seemed to float slowly up above him looking down the length of my right arm. And then the crash!
The last thing I clearly remember was the rush of Old Star’s back suddenly shooting straight up at my face and my riding hand smashing into my forehead. I have some fuzzy memories of some cowboys dragging me through the dirt and then a bull’s slobbering snorting face showing itself through the bars of a gate…then I remember being in an ambulance and someone asking me my name. I clearly remember telling the EMT guy that he should call Sam and ask him if we could go fishin’. That’s all I can remember of that night.
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“Well, you ready to go fishing?” Sam asked. “Yeah, hold on, this sling is pulling too hard on my wrist. I’ve got to adjust something here,” I answered. “Well, hurry up… we have to get down to the pond before the nurses figure out we aren’t here for physical therapy this morning,” Sam said. “If they see us slipping out, they’ll give us what-for.” “I’m coming, Sam, I’m hurryin’,” I answered, grabbing up my reel and rod and heading out behind him. “How long before we get out of here, Sam?” “Well, best I can figure… I have to be able to feed myself with this bum hand and you have to be able to tell them who you are without reading your name tag.” “Oh, well that won’t be too long then… by the way, do they have any rodeo’s here?”
The End
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One of my favorite things to do in South Georgia is to attend the fall rodeo in Waycross. It is usually held in August at the fairgrounds and features locals as well as cowboys from around Georgia and north Florida. It is a good family friendly event and worth the trip. As usual the chracters in this story are fictional and the events are made up just for the fun of the story... though my grandmother Orvin did have an old cow named Star when I was a young child and I was scared of her...she often kicked and always seemed to keep an eye on me when I was around her.
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