The 2010 PBR Kickoff, or, the Challenger Series Championship in Drag

Folks, I am pleased to welcome you to Black Boot's stellar description of the PBR Kickoff event in Georgia. Where would I be without my loyal readers? Sad and lonely, that's where. And take a gander at Ms. Black Boots herself. Isn't she gorgeous? Enjoy this--I certainly did.

Three nights of bulls! My best friend (hereafter known as the inimitable “E”) and I settled into our seats on Friday night with giddy anticipation. Thanks to the PBR’s 50% off ticket sale on Halloween, we scored seats in our favorite section (low on the left chute side) for all three nights. It’s prime viewing for bulls, chutes, and arena action. This being the first event of the season, there were some changes. First thing we noticed was the program, or the absence of one. Instead, we got a day sheet wrapped with 2 pages of articles culled from the PBR’s website, with a glowering J.B. Mauney on the cover. Inside, though, were 56 glorious riders. Not a one was Kody Lostroh’s. E and I were not displeased, since we had heard more than enough about our New! World! Champion! two weeks earlier. Also conspicuously absent were the Flaming Bull Heads O’ Death. Instead, we had the four world champions present (Ednei, Mike Lee, Shivers, and Guilherme) standing tall over the chutes with sparklers glowing in front of them, which seemed to startle Ednei the first night. Atop the shark cage was Mr. Mauney with his ever-present toothpick. He got the smoke machine and blue lights treatment.

Once the fire and mayhem were dispensed with, on to the bulls. The Friday pen was rowdy as all get-out. The minute you came into the arena, you could hear them clanging and shuffling around, which was scary considering that the pre-show lights were low and you couldn’t see who was causing the ruckus. When they bucked, it was like broncs with horns. They galloped, they scraped, and they panicked their rookie selves all over the arena. Entertaining for us and even more so for the folks new to the PBR (and there were TONS of them every night), but at the end of the evening the gate and pickup men were exhausted. Saturday night was a mixed pen (Skyhawk Cut-A-Rug, Booger Butt, plus rookies), and then Sunday afternoon was the short-go with Code Blue, Voodoo Child and Chicken on a Chain.

As far as the three-day event being “the best riders you never heard of,” a line Flint kept flogging—well, it wasn’t. The top 15 from the Challenger Tour were familiar names to most PBR fans—Matt Bohon, anyone? We recognized almost everyone behind the chutes. As for the riders we truly didn’t know—Jordan Hupp is a standout. I’d look for him on the BFTS early on this season.

We were thrilled to see Paulo Crimber on Friday, hale and hearty and thoroughly enjoying pulling ropes. He visited with Robson, Valderon, and Guilherme for a long time—fun to watch them joshing around. We were also treated to Guilherme’s warm-up routine all three nights and if you haven’t ever seen it—well, ladies, you need to put it on your bucket list.

There was no mention during the entire event about Dustin Elliot’s father’s passing, so it was awful to learn about what he was going through while we enjoyed watching him ride. (I hope to HADES those Versus cameramen didn’t know about what had happened or they should be dangled by their privates.)

It was tough to see Chris Shivers have such a rough weekend. He didn’t make the last cut and was replaced on the opening hoopla on Sunday by hometown boy Sean Willingham. We sat next to his family and enjoyed meeting them. E and I like Sean because he’s a Georgia native with a genuine accent, and when interviewed, he comes up with something more interesting to say than, “I just ride ’em one bull at a time.”

We decided that “Seems Like a Nice Guy” awards should go to Ryan McConnell, McKinnon Wimberly, (who must have been granted honorary Brazilian status, because wherever they, go he goes) and Harve Stewart. I tried my darndest to point these gentlemen out to my 21-year-old daughter on Saturday night, but she was more interested in exercising her newly acquired legal status (i.e., she was buying a beer) when they strolled around after the event. (I was her designated driver that night, so it was fine.) Her favorite rider is J.B., which will become more important later.

Highlight of the weekend #1: One word--Guilherme. What a thrill to see him ride with that verve and passion. Viva!

Highlight #2: Meeting Ednei, Edimundo, Renato, and Valdiron after the event on Sunday. They were all in high spirits and were wearing these crazy beat-up straw cowboy hats Ednei had tried to fashion into a fedora. He is evidently the prankster of the bunch. Valdiron was truly moved when E told him how happy we were that he wears a helmet. What a sweet, sweet man.

Highlight #3: Instead of the Dickies, bullfighters we were happy to have a Bullfighter Team competition. There were five teams of two bullfighters who rotated in and out of each flight. I’d love to see more of this, and it gave Flint some new material (thank God.)

Highlight #4: On Sunday, Chicken on a Chain was in the pen closest to us. What a big, handsome dude. He spent the entire final round before the short-go standing quietly and scanning the crowd with huge, liquid brown eyes. It gives me chills to think about it. And call me crazy, but when I whipped out my camera (which decided to act up that day, dammit), he knew I was shooting his picture. It’s a bit fuzzy, but I’ve included it here. Just call me the bull paparazzi!

And finally, the J.B. story: On Sunday, just after we’d met Valdiron and Co at the rail, we saw J.B. Mauney in the autograph line. He is my daughter’s favorite rider and she would have been happy to meet him--only that day she had to go pick up her best friend from the airport (no stopping for beer.)

“My child would have a bull calf if she knew we were about to meet J.B.,” I laughed.

“What if we take your picture with him and she ‘accidentally’ sees it?” E mused.

We cooked up the dialogue while he approached, and as he signed my day sheet, E asked “J.B., would you mind helping us with a practical joke?”

JB shifted his toothpick. “Um, yeah.”

“Would you please pose for a picture with my friend? Her daughter just turned 21 and she's smart and funny. And oh yeah, she’s really good-looking.”

No response. E tries speaking his language. “Actually, she’s downright smokin’.” On cue, I nod emphatically. JB’s toothpick stops and his eyes light up. E continues. “She couldn’t make it today. You’re the young lady’s favorite rider and she’ll have a bull calf when she sees this picture…”

Out comes the toothpick. J.B. musters his most dazzling smile and staunchest grip-and-grin pose, then visited with us until arena security shooed us out the door. Said picture is here (that’s me with Mr. Mauney.) What a good sport he was to help out with the shenanigans of two funny old ladies, and thankfully, the camera worked beautifully for the shot, that did indeed cause my girl to have a bull calf of major proportions.

So it was glorious. Three nights of bulls. Lots of Marchi madness. The best prank ever on my daughter. (I know, payback’s hellacious.) I know it was confusing and disappointing to some fans not to have the televised emphasis on J.B.’s Tour win, but rest assured he got the same amount of accolades in the arena that Guilherme did, plus one of those nifty hand-tooled leather PBR hat boxes. I want one!

And 167 rides, not a one of which was Kody Lostroh’s.

Finito: S's Adventures in Vegas, Concluded

Folks, I have managed to beat the millions (oh, all right, maybe three) who are demanding my services back long enough to post the second half of S's charming tale of the finals in Vegas. Here it is, and I for one am sad it's over, it was so much fun. But wasn't that true of the whole season? Enjoy!

Sunday -- The Main Event
Because the hotel we were staying at did not get Versus, and we were too cheap to pay $9.99 per day for the interweb and also had musical theater plans that interfered with locating a sports bar, my knowledge of what the numbers were on the final day was shaky at best. Upon arriving at the Thomas & Mack, I purchased a day schedule and found it very useful; like a big nerd, I wrote down which bull went with which guy and what the score was (and notes like "?!?!" next to the scoring for the ride where J.B. Mauney was hanging off the side of the bull for a substantial portion).

As far as the event, I have yet to see the televised coverage so I don't know what was shown and what wasn't, but I'll try to focus on things that might not have been revealed to home viewers. First of all, as I was entering the arena, I passed by the goofy commentator booth with the Ford truck grill on the front, cordoned off outside the arena. I'm not entirely sure how that worked; I'm assuming there was a live feed so the commentators could, well, comment on what was occurring. Ford can also be, er, thanked for the inflatable "thunder sticks" draped on the backs of each seat in the arena--fortunately neither I, my friend, or the people around us decided to inflate them, because they were quite unwieldy and made an unpleasant noise akin to a high speed inner-tube wreck.

My seat was up in the hinterlands, although at least in the hinterlands midway between the divided arena, so I could see all the chutes without difficulty. To my left were two Kody Lostroh fans; to my right, a couple celebrating their silver anniversary. We started the afternoon off with Not-Tim McGraw (Sean Patrick), a giant flaming $1M on the dirt, and a monstrous American flag descending from the ceiling with sparkles and rappelling army guys. We also had enforced prayer, and a surprisingly not overwrought version of the national anthem as sung by Kissy Simmons, the current Nala in The Lion King at Mandalay Bay. There was also of course a face-off between J.B. Mauney and Kody Lostroh on the bed of a Ford Truck, and a pile-up of cowboys on a slowly revolving platform. Then Flint tried to get a guy who turned out to be a cop to dance to warm up the crowd, but since the fellow was practically shooting a tazer out of his eyes while standing with unmovable folded arms, Flint moved on to someone else.

In-arena announcements that might not have made the broadcast: the white horse (I believe it was a mare, possibly named Jo) was retiring after 17 years working the arena. She also got a moment of fame when her rider jokingly roped the Ford truck that wouldn't start and thus couldn't clear the arena; they jokingly pretended to haul it (in the end it turned out that they were attempting to use the wrong set of keys, which I guess is good as it didn't look so great for the reliability of the Built Ford Tough brand at that moment). Randy Bernard announced that the World Cup will be held in Las Vegas in April, to coincide with the Country Music Awards, something that I see little to no press on, so I'm not sure what that means. The bull Avalanche retired in style by bucking off Dusty Ephrom. And finally, I'm pretty sure I heard the announcer say that Ednei Caminhas is not retiring, in style or otherwise.

There were a few confusing moments... like Say I Won't Gunner having a truly wretched out. Clayton Baethge, well, his being there at all was surprising to me as I wasn't up to date on injuries, but his hang-up in the rope was truly scary. The arena was dead silent for what seemed an age while the bullfighters circled him, and the audience cheered when he was able to walk away. The same thing happened when Cody Nance hit the ground hard and was stunned for a bit; there were a lot of cheers when he walked out of the arena under his own power. There were some very nice moments in addition to the strange and scary, like seeing Guilherme Marchi get it together and make a ride, and seeing Validron de Oliveira's smooth, smooth riding style in person (I had a forlorn hope he'd be the spoiler this year, but maybe next year).

During the "intermission," the lovely woman who won the Invasion of the Bulls custom PBR Ford truck was fun to watch. She looked so incredibly happy. This whole segment also helped me understand why I had seen a camera crew following a guy around at the Meet & Greet--he was one of the finalists. I believe that somewhere in here, Shorty Gorham won an award--he was wandering around with a giant check, anyway. I was distracted by some traditionally nasty nachos at the time and wasn't entirely paying attention; please forgive me.

And then it was back to the action.

I understand from others that on the televised coverage there was a lame off-hand comment from Craig Hummer after a break and before the short-go saying they'd run the numbers and Kody Lostroh was the world champion no matter what happened, which seems tragically anti-climatic. I can tell you that it wasn't like that in the arena at all. Short of any enterprising math people in the crowd running the numbers themselves, I don't think anyone there knew for sure how it was going to play out. When Mauney got his ride for 93.75 points, the fans went absolutely crazy.(I loved seeing the pure joy on J.B. Mauney's face when he rode Black Pearl, I have to add.) And then as Kody Lostroh looked like he was going to ride Voodoo Child, the crowd jumped to their feet at around 7 seconds. The arena was filled with cheering in the expectation he would ride, and there was a huge gasp as he bucked off shortly thereafter, mixed with what I can only assume were the cheers of people who thought that meant that Mauney would take the title. I don't think Lostroh himself knew if he had enough points to win, as he promptly pressed the red review button. The in-arena announcer was emphasizing that if he was holding onto any part of the bull rope to 8 seconds, he'd get a score. It was tense, tense, tense as the crowd and Lostroh waited for the verdict.

The arena was filled with awkward silence while people shuffled around and wondered what was going on. Eventually the buck-off was upheld, and parts of the crowd groaned. Kody Lostroh had disappeared somewhere behind the chutes, and when the announcement finally came that he had won, the crowd made some noise but he was nowhere to be found. I'm still not sure Lostroh knew he won at that point because it seemed to take some time for him to make his way out to the random red carpeting and foliage, and then to burst into a huge smile as Randy Bernard said something like, "But no one wants to hear from me, they want to hear from your new World Champion, Kody Lostroh!"

I don't recall them announcing bull of the year, or why Bones wasn't there, but I'm sure they must have at least done the former. I don't remember much going on in regards to Cody Nance, our new Daisy Rookie of the Year. I hope he got some congratulations at the Awards Banquet, which I did not attend, nor did I attend the press conference (instead I sped out to the mile-long line for cabs). I do wonder why so little has been said about Cody Nance since, but I guess it really doesn't matter because he's quite talented, and I'm sure we will see more from him.

And while I am not a wild Kody Lostroh fan, he earned his moment in the sun and seemed genuinely thrilled. It will be interesting to see how he deals with the additional media scrutiny he will get as the World Champion. J.B. Mauney fought a good fight and has nothing to be ashamed of with his event title and with being the first man to stay on all 8 bulls during the finals. Guilherme Marchi seemed to be getting his mojo back at the end there, so I have high hopes for next season. All three guys, as far as I saw, conducted themselves with class in the face of the PBR attempts to build up some sort of rivalry mythology between them, and were truly good sportsmen.

And on that note, I will conclude this far overblown tale of my time in the tacky, tacky desert town with cowboys, musical theater and sangria, and leave you to try to figure out the signatures on the in(famous) drawing, and I will attempt to come down after a thrilling weekend.

S's Adventures at the Thomas & Mack

Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present the report of the divine S, who journeyed to Vegas last weekend for the PBR Finals. Reading this cheered me up immensely--I hope it does the same for you. And check out these photos. That's her, S herself, in the arms of Valdiron! Lucky girl! And don't blame her for the inexpert arrangement of said photos--that you can lay at the feet of the Stockyard Queen and Blogger. Enjoy, folks. It's the next best thing to being there.

So, your intrepid reporter set out to the city that never sleeps, the city that is so, so unabashedly tacky, the city that hosts CSI: The Experience (for a mere $30, you too can collect evidence!), the city of neon and dollar margaritas... Las Vegas, Nevada. Friends and coworkers alike were confounded by my reasons for doing so: the PBR, musical theater, and a side of tapas. I soldiered on in the face of their disbelief.

Saturday -- Team PBR Meet & Greet
The PBR part of my adventure started bright and early on Saturday morning at Mandalay Bay, where my friend and I, firmly clutching my poster tube and my coffee, walked through halls festooned with banners and signs depicting the top cowboys and bulls (including I'm a Gangster, leading me to wonder just when these were printed). After joining a massive line outside the Fan Zone in the parking lot, a friendly man gave my TeamPBR membership card a cursory glance before handing over some red paper bracelets for entry to the Meet & Greet, and a friendly woman handed me a map of the Fan Zone that I quickly disregarded as utterly useless (my directional sense is not great and the map wasn't great either-- bad combination. What I needed was Cowboy GPS. Sadly, this does not appear to have been invented yet). Immediately following, I was bewildered by being handed, in quick succession, a free DVD which is apparently some sort of cowboy testimonial (I can't say for certain as I didn't exactly rush home to the DVD player to find out) and lanyards and cards from Cooper Tires, who had their people out taking pictures of fans and the cowboys, to be uploaded to their website for future viewing and downloading.

In an attempt not to be tedious, I won't go on about each interaction I had, but overall, the cowboys were friendly and kind, as were the fans I talked to in various lines. The ones that weren't, well, although I do wish that a few of the guys would have summoned at least a semblance of interest in the proceedings, I can understand lack of enthusiasm at 8am, especially when tons of people want a piece of you. Part of my general good impression might have had something to do with the fact that I didn't even attempt to get anywhere near Kody Lostroh, J.B. Mauney or Guilherme Marchi (although he did bump my friend's elbow as he was coming through to get to the draft), all of whom had utterly insane lines.

As you may know, I had prepared a digital painting to get signed, and the reaction from the cowboys and other fans was good for my ego. Pretty much every cowboy said, "Hey, that's Brian Canter on Big Mac," or, "Who is that there on Big Mac?" when they saw it, which was pretty amusing and thrilled the former art major in me. Also, numerous people asked me where I bought it or where they could buy one, so I guess I missed a lucrative opportunity. Alas. Perhaps next year.

A few highlights:
- Running into Chad Berger, who was zipping madly around on a Segway. Just try to picture that. He seemed tickled that fans were talking to him and since Big Mac is his bull, he seemed to enjoy signing my painting as well.

- Having Shorty Gorham and Frank Newsom tell us, "Be safe." Um, right back atcha, guys.

(I'm the one grinning madly behind Shorty and clutching the prints of the painting. What can I say, I like the guy and his predictions.)

- Meeting the sweetest table of guys ever: Cody Nance, Wiley Petersen and Michael Manes and his dorky glasses (henceforth they will be dubbed "Team God," although I don't know if Manes is a big God guy or not). On Sunday, Wiley would remember me as the one with the drawing. Good memory on that guy, since I'm sure he met hundreds of people the day previous.

Team God is, unfortunately, rather blurry.

- Seeing a very pained-looking Ryan McConnel trooping through the Meet & Greet; I was worried for him but much like his bull riding career this season, he seemed determined to stick it out and you have to commend that. I hope he is getting whatever treatment he needs now.

- Watching Zack Brown joke around with a bemused Skeeter Kingsolver, and wondering why, if the cowboy in my painting was whoever he wanted it to be, he wasn't wearing Zack Brown's chaps and sponsor patches.

- Talking with Dustin Elliot about the process of making the drawing. Thankfully, no Bob Ross wigs were involved.

- Randomly bumping (well, not literally) into Brendon Clark in the hallway on the way out, which was quite unexpected. He would later reappear at the event with a set of keys that may or may not have started a custom PBR Ford truck.

And of course, the crowning glory was meeting Adriano Moraes, something that had somehow not entered my consciousness as a possibility at all. Some of the cowboys were at tables inside the main merchandise tent (including Team Border Patrol, consisting of Austin Meier and Luke Snyder, and the aforementioned Team God table), and I noticed while we were in there that there was a sign at the Jeffrey Scott booth with a giant Adriano face on it. The small print revealed that the man himself would be there signing during the time slot for the draft. So my friend and I made the easy decision to ditch the draft to get in the already somewhat long line for Adriano Moraes.

After admiring the handcrafted Jeffrey Scott buckles, and taking a picture for the nice North Carolinan in front of us, the conversation went something like this:

AM: "Hey, this is a pretty nice drawing, did you do this?"
Me: "Yeah, thanks so much. It's an honor to meet you."
AM: "That's Chad Berger's bull. You should show this to him. You know, I am breeding bulls now. Maybe one day you'll draw one of my bulls."
Friend: "You could commission her!"
AM: ::look of mock outrage:: "That's not how it works! It should be the other way around!"

Needless to say, if Moraes ever does have a top bucking bull, I'll probably be drawing it. Love that guy, and he looked relaxed and happy, which was nice to see.


In other news, although I don't have any need for a Big Tex trailer, a Ford truck, a Daisy airgun or in fact, anything made and/or sold by most of the PBR's sponsors, this urban liberal vegetarian female can heartily recommend American Cowboy Coffee, a place with great coffee and coffee-based items (such as soap and organic lip balm), which is run by very kind people.

To Be Continued...

Could I Make This Up? Well, Maybe.

Because our hearts are going to be gladdened a little later this week when the divine and refined S reports on her experiences at the PBR Finals, I thought it might be nice to offer you some contrasting scenes that took place in my living room last weekend. Well, maybe I made up some of them, but as Ruth Reichl recommends, never wreck a good story by sticking to the truth. Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, I bring you snippets of conversations at the Stockyard during rounds 5 through 8 of the PBR World Finals, courtesy of Bombay Sapphire and Martini and Rossi vermouth. Oh, and don't forget the queen olives.

Stockyard Queen: I hate that Sir Patrick was ridden and I hate that that piece of s--- rode him.

Montana Barn Cat, having interrupted his viewing to repair the dog door, solicits SQ's opinion of his new door flap, conveniently created from the seat of his worn-out Wranglers. Stockyard Queen: It's a thing of beauty.

Stockyard Queen, speaking of a rider who shall remain nameless: I am going to drive to wherever he lives, slap him senseless, slap his entire family senseless, slap his dog senseless, bulldoze his house, set fire to the rubble, and sow the soil with salt.

Montana Barn Cat: That'll show 'em.

Montana Barn Cat to the Stockyard Queen, who is lying nearly prostrate on the sofa, begging for another martini: Did you hear what Leah just said?

Stockyard Queen: That she needs another martini?

Montana Barn Cat: She said she was moving her legs for him.

Stockyard Queen: Who was she talking to?

Montana Barn Cat: Kody Lostroh.

Stockyard Queen: Damn. She could have at least saved that for Elliot Jacoby.

Montana Barn Cat, having survived nearly half an hour of swearing and spitting on the part of his lovely Stockyard Queen: Why are you telling me this? You should be writing this s---I mean, these pearls of wisdom down. Where's your bull riding journal?

Stockyard Queen: It's in the other room. I reserve that for important stuff, like Challenger events in Miles City.

Montana Barn Cat, rummaging in the breakfront for a writing implement: Can't you at least keep a pen down here in case we have to make a grocery list or something?

Stockyard Queen: Do you mean to tell me you mind having to run to the grocery store 15 times every weekend to buy one thing? Oh, and don't forget the olives this trip.

(Disclaimer: I don't remember what the s---I mean, the pearls of wisdom are. I just remember MBC advising me thus, then grabbing a notebook and scrawling away on it. I bet everyone of you wish he'd just kept it to himself.)

Let the Games Begin

It's here, it's finally here, and I am just about beside myself with anticipation. What a season this has been! I have neglected you all shamefully, but I plan to be back with a vengeance for the finals. Yessiree!

I just went online to the PBR site and voted for what I think will be the final standings: Marchi, Mauney, Lostroh. This is doubtless a reflection of the fact that Kody Lostroh bores me six ways till Sunday, but I can't ignore how much Marchi has cut the lead in the past three weeks. Don't look back, Kody, somebody older and wiser might be gaining on you!

And J.B.? I just don't think he can make up the ground, not with the way Marchi is riding of late, but I'd never count the boy out. All in all, it's going to be a barn-burner, a nail-biter, a photo finish.

I won't burden you folks with information that you don't want, so I'll just say that the past two years, and in particular the past six months, have been perfectly awful around the Stockyard. A lot of people are way worse off than we are, for sure, and I'm thankful every day that I'm able to keep working and that people are interested in hiring me. But I only said that to be able to say this: in 2009, the PBR season, and especially its second half, may have saved my life altogether by giving me something different to think about for a few hours every weekend. I have to tip my hat to the whole outfit, and shake hands in gratitude all around.

So I am ready. I am SO ready. Got the snacks, got the drinks, got the remote control. Bring it on, boys. Let 'em buck.

Ryan Dirteater

Damn, damn, damn.

Excitement and Disenchantment: A little bit of everything . . .

Friends and neighbors, the Stockyard Queen is proud to present the Divine Shannon's description of her adventures at the PBR in Ontario. You've doubtless noticed that the Stockyard is falling into disarray, mostly because I've been too busy working on the Ranch House to come down here and mend the fences. So I am very happy to be able to offer you something besides my usual lame excuses. Without further ado, here's Shannon!

“I liked it better than I thought I would!” That was the sentiment I got from each of the three members of the family after their first live PBR event. I’m not surprised—even if bull riding is something that bores you, it’s hard to imagine not having fun with the party-like atmosphere surrounding the bull rides. My daughter, Amelia, who’d put together a collection of bull pictures for the riders to sign, decided that it was worthy of one of her teaching moments in the classroom that the teacher will indulge her in when they have a few extra minutes. After taking time with her to help her write up the rules and an explanation of some of the equipment, as well as what Flint and the bull fighters do and the range of personalities in the bulls, this is what she had me write for the end of her presentation:

“But wait, I've saved the best for last! Just before the show starts, the announcer greets everyone and announces that they are at the PBR and the letters PBR get lit up in fire on the dirt and fireworks go off with a loud bang! Then, with a little bit of fog across the dirt the riders are introduced one by one and while they are walking out, fire and sparks shoot out of the ground. When the leader of the first round comes out, the fire and sparks get bigger and higher!”

And that was on the second day—I can only imagine how she’d have felt on day one when the opening is even more dazzling.

So, why is it, I was left a little disenchanted at times? Funny that I should feel that way after this weekend when the PBR sight is being flooded with comments about an article on JB Mauney being such an upstanding guy (maybe he is—I don’t know him well enough to say otherwise.) and the Team PBR forum has a debate going about the guys coming out for autographs (or not in many cases). Now, perhaps it’s because I live in Southern CA and bull riding isn’t quite as big here, but I have yet to see these guys flooded with fans to the point of not being able to escape them (which is often an excuse for them not feeling up to dealing with people), and by Sunday afternoon, I was feeling rather frustrated with the number of guys who decided to come out for the fans. Yes, I’m aware of the exemptions and the penalty, but we got a total of 20 autographs (4 of which were in the concourse/VIP section) and believe me, my kids wouldn’t let anyone go by them. I know that there weren’t 20 riders with injuries and exemptions that night. By the time I left, I wanted to write to the PBR and say “By touting yourself as a sport ‘for the fans!’ and making it a point to crow about how your riders are always out for autographs, you are setting a lot of fans up for disappointment. I’d much rather you say ‘That’s it—we’re dropping it. If you want to go out for an autograph, that would be great, but we’re not going to force you. If you want to risk your reputation with the fans, that’s your business’ ”. Seriously—I’m going to say almost half of the 20 who went out didn’t even bother to try to fake that they wanted to be there. Would a smile and a “Did you have fun?....Thanks for coming…” have been that hard to say to a child? Thankfully, I had warned the kids ahead of time of the exemptions and told them that even if the riders did come out, they may be shy or not in a good mood, but couldn’t afford the money to pay the penalty, so they were left unphased. I guess it was the mother in me who was getting her ire up.

Ok, I’ll get off my soap box now. Sorry about that, but I felt the need to share it. I’m sure many of you will disagree and believe me-- you won’t be able to say anything to me that I haven’t already said to myself. There are so many gray areas to the subject that it’s a no-win argument. So, let me list highlights of the weekend:

1. The robbery had me seeing the worst of people, but the PBR was still able to make me smile in spite of my feelings about the riders giving or not giving autographs. It was a nice distraction and while I was sad that our family day was messed up, I did have a good time.
2. I got to meet Leah and Justin McKee and they were both really nice.
3. Junior Seau as a volunteer bull fighter. I’m sure they gave one too many interviews with him on the televised event, but having him there added a whole new dimension to the drama and the humor.
4. The sweet older couple gave the kids their VIP passes because they were done with them and thought that a couple of children might get a kick out of getting down to the special section and meeting the riders. Boy, did they ever! They were so excited. I got my pass and we went down and met Zack Brown and Renato (who promised the kids he’d do his best to do a back flip), then made a couple of posters before finding our seats.
5. Talking to Guilherme on night one and having him say “Yes, I am!” when I asked if was going to go back to back this year.
6. As hard as it was watching Ryan writhe in pain after breaking his jaw, seeing him stand up and walk out, and then finding out that he’ll be back sooner than suspected was a relief. He’s such a nice kid and has so much potential that it killed me to think that he may be out for the rest of the season. All I could think was “Please, not again….” (Speaking of twice in one year: I still miss Paulo Crimber). As of today, there’s an article saying that Ryan should be back by next week.
7. Shane Proctor, Ryan McConnell, Chris Shivers, Mike White, Aaron Roy and Zack Brown for noticing that they were signing a picture of a rank bull that they’d covered during their time on tour and mentioning it to Amelia. We had a hard time getting pictures of those bulls and it was sweet to have them recognize and acknowledge the effort. It was especially nice of Shane to listen to the quick version of why she wanted them to sign bull pictures and respond with “That was a good idea.”
8. Getting onto the dirt. In all honesty, it really isn’t much different than being on the other side of the fence except for the different perspective and not having to fight the bars for a picture with the riders, but it was still neat to be in the ring.
9. Watching Chris Shivers on Julio’s horse. He’s looks good up there and seeing a sense of humor (in the face of defeat) when Flint joked “Chris told me before the show that he’d be in the short go!”
10. JB Mauney taking his buck offs in stride. He really is maturing this year.
11. Finally: McKennon Wimberly. He listened intently when the kids talked to him as though he really cared about what they had to say. He answered them thoughtfully when he told Amelia that he’d probably pick Troubadour as his favorite bull and when he told Dalton, who suggested he name one of his bulls ‘Crash and Burn’, that it was a really good name and he may have to use it. He moved around the table and got down on one knee to have his picture taken with them. Then, he chatted with me, too, as though he was interested in what I had to say. At a time when I’d been losing a bit of faith in some people, I needed that. (He also came out after the event even though he didn’t have to.)

Well, this will probably be the only installment from me. I really wanted to do a much better write up, but as you can imagine, after Saturday night, I was exhausted, and between that and having to watch two young kids by myself in the arena, I wasn’t soaking in as much as I normally do. As a final thought, I’d like to say that even though I’m a Marchi fan, I’m looking forward to the Vegas rounds no matter what the outcome. All three of these riders have made it a great year and no matter who wins, it will be exciting for different reasons (a first-time winner, a back-to-back champion, or JB’s record from his rookie year to present). If they keep it up, it will be a nail biting finish and those are my favorite kind.