02/02/2024
To anyone who wants to rodeo.
I feel like I should warn you. I feel like it’s my duty to make sure you know what you’re getting into.
If you finally convince your dad to buy you a pony, a couple things might happen.
First you’ll fall in love with this pony. The kind of love that has you buying matching bell boots and saddle pads. You’ll talk about this pony every chance you get. In pictures you draw, journal entries you write and maybe your teacher lets you take her to show and tell.
Slowly but surely you’ll convince your dad to let you take his good head horse through the barrels. He’s always been a sucker for you.
Every year you get better. The fire keeps burning. Getting hotter and hotter. Free weekends no longer exist and other sports become extracurriculars.
Nothing else seems to matter. All because some little girl with wild blonde half-brushed hair convinced her dad to buy her that pony.
Family vacations are trips to nationals and “real tv” is only watched 10 days out of the year in December. Nights consist of ground work, complete come-aparts after you miss 6 calves in a row and runs you wish your mom would’ve videod because you’re sure it was an arena record.
I should warn you about the expenses, the cost of fuel, entry fees and the thousands of dollars you will spend to drive 2,000 miles to watch a 6-second goat run.
I should warn you about the alligator tears after being high call and breaking the barrier. Or when horses get hurt, you get hurt or when times are too tough to enter everything you qualify for.
I should warn you about these things.
Instead I’ll warn you about how much your life will change. So much you’ll never get the old you back.
Hard work is the norm and losing becomes part of it. Even though it still stings. Animals are fed before you even think about dinner and practices go until the sun decides to go to sleep. Your siblings will use the fact that they opened the chutes for you as ammo in every argument you have.
I guess I should warn you that it will be worth it. Every slow walk back to the trailer and every silent ride home.
I guess I should warn you that once you give yourself to this sport, you’ll never be the same. From the way you wave to people to how often you hold the door for a stranger. Everything will look different. Suddenly you’ll worry about the ground when it rains and you’ll stay up for days straight walking a colicing horse around.
I guess I should warn you you’ll never see the world or yourself the same again.
This isn’t a sport that takes some of your time or a little bit of your effort.
It takes all of you.
And it never really gives you back.
Just thought I should warn you.
