The Art of Calf Roping It’s 2:00 a.m. Sunday morning. Jake and I are headed down the longest stretch of road in Texas. We have just pulled out of El Paso and are on the way to Fredericksburg to participate in the Frontier Days Rodeo. We were fortunate to have put together a decent run on our last draw and win enough day-money to keep us going for a while. Jake and I are rodeo-bums, to be specific, calf ropers.
Most of my points came from fifth or sixth place finishes. My goal at the beginning of the year was to have a good start to the season and a good finish to the season. I had a good start at Cortez, where I won the first rodeo and placed ... ... middle of paper ... ...elf making the perfect run. I put the small loop of my piggin' string over the front leg of the calf and gathered the back legs and stacked them as perfectly as possible. I heard many of the other rodeo contestants yelling "be smooth, be smooth."
He was showing an interest in the sport as young as 5 months. His mom, Elsie Frost, said that whenever they went to rodeos Lane would always fight to stay awake to watch the bull riding. If they tried to leave before it was over, he would scream and cry and throw a huge fit (Frost 1). At the age of five Lane started riding dairy calves on the family dairy farm in Vernal, Utah. He rode calves and steers when he was younger, entering and competing in any rodeo he could.
Brands. The Road the Kentucky Derby began last September with a series of 18 initial prep races that lead up to the start of the Championship Series on February 23. The final 16 races in the Championship Series conclude at Keeneland Racetrack one week before the Kentucky Derby on Saturday, May 3. The 20 horses with most Road to the Kentucky Derby points qualify for the Derby. We are thrilled to see so many new racing fans following the Kentucky Derby presented by Yum!
To the handicappers, winning a bet on a horse race is like smoking marijuana. There is the euphoria of watching the horses run in the oval track. When the horses run toward the finish line, the fans roar urging their favorite horse to edge ahead and win. After a race, fans with winning tickets are showing exhilaration by pumping fists, lingering wide smiles, and animated recollection of how they pick the winner. At Santa Anita Park in Arcadia, thoroughbred racing fans come to get an adrenaline rush from watching and winning bets on horse races.
Errrrrrrrrrrrt, goes the buzzer again, ending the huddle of both teams. “Come on Mustangs,” hollered Bree, energized for the upcoming half. “We can do this! It may be their home court, but this is OUR HOUSE!” She screamed over the roar of the crowd. With sweat still dripping like tears down their faces, the Lady Mustangs took their positions as defense.
The camera caught her eye and she sighed. This was the tough part of the job, although secretly she adored the adrenaline rush. With purposeful, yet delicate strides, she moved towards the exit. The throngs of people, greeting returned brothers and sisters, meeting their aunts and waiting for their beaus aided her passage. The door was looming, she quickened her pace; ahead of her, the guards' security radios were crackling with mystical instructions.
They simply got the gun and the knives they used and jumped in the truck. On the way out they stopped and picked up Laird who was begging to go. Even though the girl thought that she would be in trouble for letting the horse out she did not regret it, even though she wasn’t sure why she had done it. After everyone arrived back home they had dinner. Laird was excited and showed off the blood that he had on his arm from the horse.
Afraid she looked around for her horses. In the fields there were two stallions, six mares, a colt, and two foals. After making a head count she realized one of her mares is missing, a Cleveland Bay named Aida. She climbed over the fixed fence and ran by the tree line, hoping Aida didn’t stray too far. Not having any luck she whistled for her dogs to come along and the two collies came running.
Seeing those red, black and white colors come through the sign every Friday night lead by cheerleaders running with flags was thrilling. I despised ever getting the last letter when I was a freshman because if the people in front of you are running slow you might get trampled by a stampede filled with 80 horses. On the field cheering, it felt like I was another person. It was like living a double life. Cheering made my voice heard.