Cowboy Wisdom (13 page)

—H
OOT
G
IBSON
Hollywood, California 1912

T
he rules of the sport are simple. As soon as the steer leaves the chute, it is followed by the wrestler and the hazer, the
latter’s object being to prevent it dodging away from the wrestler’s horse.

As the wrestler approaches the steer, he leans sideways in the saddle ready to throw himself on its shoulders and grasp it
by the horns. The faster the pace, the easier it is to obtain a grip quickly—the most difficult steers being those which will
not gallop and allow the horses to outstrip them. Once the wrestler has flung himself out of the saddle—some literally dive
forward, being clear of the horse before they touch the steer—his immediate object is to use his legs as a brake, while grasping
the animal by its horns, and bring it to a stand. Sometimes the man will be dragged half across the ground before he can attempt
the throw. Sometimes—and this is one of the greatest risks—the steer will overbalance on account of the man’s weight and the
pace, turning a complete somersault. This is called “hoolihaning” a steer and does not count as a throw. Occasionally the
wrestler fails to obtain a hold and falls under the steer and the galloping horses. But as a rule the man is very sure of
his grip; the ammal is pulled up, and with every second counting in his chances of a prize the wrestler uses the leverage
of the horns, obtaining a scientific lock, and if he is lucky twists the animal over, bringing it down on its side and raising
a hand as signal to the judges. The time of the record throw is seven seconds, counted from the moment the steer crosses the
white line opposite the chute.

—R.B. C
UNNINGHAME
G
RAHAM
London 1936

W
e would have lots of fun trying to prove who was the best rider, but oftentimes the horse would prove that he was onto his
job better than any of us.

—F.M. P
OLK
Luling, Texas c. 1920

B
eing a rodeo rider is a state of mind. It is for yourself—your self-esteem, pride and ego. You’re brainwashed at an early
age to want to emulate your heroes. You always want to be like them. For a lot of kids, myself included, cowboys are the last
real heroes.

—C
HRIS
L
EDOUX
Kaycee, Wyoming 1994

I
was a saddle-bronc rider, and here’s how it worked: They bring the animal in, I would put my saddle on it, and that animal
and I would be physically connected for eight seconds, and if I won I’d get my paycheck, get in my car and go on to the next
rodeo. The eight seconds is the time that everyone has to ride; you have to ride for eight seconds or you are disqualified.
If you get bumped off before that, you are disqualified. If you touch the animal with your free hand, you are disqualified.
If you don’t have your spurs in a certain position when the ride starts, you are disqualified. If you do all that, then they
start giving you points and the man who gets the most points gets the most money. Then you’re in your car and down the road
going to the next rodeo.

—D
ON
F
ARMER
Elko, Nevada 1994

K
eep your jewels clear!

—S
TEPHEN
B
ALDWIN
Hollywood, California costar of
8 Seconds
1994

I
t takes plenty of nerve to come out of the chutes aloft a plunging bundle of dynamite with hooves; and it takes plenty of
riding ability to stay on for ten seconds (the required length of the ride). There’s more to it than just staying on, too.
The horse must come out bucking, or the rider gets a mount that will. Rider must come out of the chutes spurring, with blunt
spurs, high on the shoulders, and continue to spur from the shoulders back to flank throughout the ride. Both feet must be
kept in the stirrups. The rein must be held in one hand, not wrapped around, and the other hand must be kept in the air, and
must not touch the brone, the rider, or the saddle! The contestant must use a committee saddle and halter, but he furnishes
his own rein, chaps, and spurs.

—M
AX
K
EGLEY
Phoenix, Arizona 1942

T
he dancers are formed in two long ranks, facing each other, and the battle opens with some light skirmishing between the pickets,
which is gradually resolved into a general engagement along the whole line; after that you have nothing to do but stand by
and grab every lady that drifts within reach of you, and swing her. It is very entertaining, and elaborately scientific also.

—S
AMUEL
C
LEMENS
in
The Territorial Enterprise
Virginia City, Nevada c. 1862

T
he individual who left three kittens, and a dog with a tin pan tied to his narrative, on our office stairs last night, can
have them in a transfigured state by calling at the butcher shop. We would modestly suggest that we have no further call for
such supplies.

—
The Daily Monitor
Fort Scott, Kansas 1870

I
t’s an awful good feeling to feel that you are the only man in a town of three thousand people whose liver don’t kick the
breath out of him every time a stranger comes along and takes a good look at the bridge of your nose.

—S
AMUEL
S
TOREY
in
To the Gold Land
1889

S
ome woman is always found to be an accomplice in all such scrapes, and we think they ought to be banished from the community.

—
The Daily Monitor
Fort Scott, Kansas reporting an 1872 suicide

A
large, broad-shouldered, bulldog head, short-haired man, is wanted immediately at this office, to serve as fighting editor
for the Sentinel. Applicants will please send weight—whether light or heavy—also the number of men he has “chawed up.” Terms—half
the profits.

—Want ad in the Yuma
Sentinel
October 5, 1872

T
wo cowpokes had punched cattle together for years, and one time they were out on a long haul. Each day, the two men would
get up, ride off in different directions to corral the herd, and at the end of the day’s trek, they’d cook dinner and go to
sleep. Day after day this continued. One night as they were about to fall off to sleep they heard a bellowing noise coming
from the cattle.

“Bull,” said the first one.

“Sounds like a steer to me,” said the other.

The next day, the two men delivered the cattle to their destination and the first cowboy saddled up his horse to depart.

“Leaving?” asked the other cowboy.

“Yep,” said the first. “Too much damned argument.”

—A
NONYMOUS

T
hey’ll have to shoot me first to take my gun.

—R
OY
R
OGERS