PROFESSIONAL BULL RIDING--WHAT COULD BE MORE FUN?
Professional Bull Riding (PBR) is all over the TV and once you start watching, it's hard to look away.... Kind of like witnessing a train wreck. Professional Bull Riding, when viewed as a kind of riding discipline, prompts the philosphical question: are those guys INSANE?! This is a sport in which staying on the animal for eight seconds before you eat dirt is a SUCCESSFUL ride. Dressage riders are much smarter than that. When they say, 'my test was successful,' they mean, 'our lateral work wobbled a bit, but overall we got great scores.' Implied is, 'I did not afterwards need to remove a large ungulated's hoof from my spleen, and at no time did I have to be dragged from the ring by a guy in a clown outfit.'
PBR Riders, even after quitting bull riding, make remarkabky lousy coaches and judges for all other riding endeavours. Ex-PBR rider to equestrian vaulter: "So you flipped off the horse and cracked a few ribs. I used to do that twice each morning before the chuckwagon had the coffee ready. Stop whining like a little girl! Oh, you are a litte girl. Never mind."
PBR riders frighten even Marine drill sergeants. Cowboy to novice marines: "For pete's sake, they're only bullets! When I rode The Perforator for four-and-a-half-seconds, he already had 71 kills to his name!"
PBR rider to astronaut: "Unless your good ropin' hand is ties to the girth of that space ship, and its dragging you to Mars, get ahold of yourself man! Plug that hole in your airhose thingy, (a nice wad of Chewing Toacco will glue that up real good) and get back to work."
PBR Rider to Secret Service bodyguard: "Surround the President with rodeo clowns dude. Nuttin' gets past dem dar boys. As fer hand fightin' skills, I've found that if you strum a guitar off-key and eat nuttin' but beans, nobody wants to get close enough to mess with ya."
The only guy as tough as a bull rider was the Crocodile Hunter. He did everything a bull rider does, but while in shorts and holding a snake or two with his wife watching!
Horses owned by PBRs often live outside, unsupervised by barn managers, trainers, or paranoid owners. They live happily under the sun and stars like the low-maitenence equines that they are. A pampered Selle Francais, turned out to fend for himself, would have to pack a few things: insect spray, bottled water, geosyncronous orbital positioning tracking devices, a cell phone, and charger, sunscreen with moisturizer, umbrella, and a few dressage letter-markers in case he was homesick.
If a Swiss Warmblood accidentally tripped and fell on a calf, inadvertanlty winning the calf roping contest, he'd say: "What? I can't have the winnings wired to my Swiss bank account to avoid US taxes? I feel faint! Someone get me some Godiva Chocoloates quick!"
If a Dressage rider attempted to rope a mean Texas Longhorn:
Rider: "Its a big target. How hard can this really be?"
Horse: "What animal? It smells bad, like leather if the leather were still alive."
Bull: "This is gonna be fun!"
Rider: "I wonder if it matters which end of the lariat I toss. Should I smear glue on the end? Can I lure the cow in with Reece's Pieces like E.T.? Here Cow, Cow. Here Cowie Cowie Cowie."
Bull: "Did she just call me a cow?"
Horse: "Put that rope down before you poke my eye out!"
Rider: "What is the proper gait for this? Extened trot? Perhaps a shoulder-in as I get closer to the Bovine? Then an upward transition to canter if the situation looks grim."
Horse: "That animal looks mean. It weighs three tons. My rider AND her saddle together are 120 pounds, 130 with the saddle pad. And SHE'S gonna pull that thing to a stop with a rope? Something is not right about this."
Bull: "Want to see a perfect transition? I can transish from 0 MPH to ramming speed in less than a half a second."
Rider: "Maybe if I just wave the rope around a lot, it's not too late to scare the Bovine American away."
Horse: "I've figures out what's wrong. We are going to DIE!"
Bull: "I love my job."
[Excerpt from Nov/Dec 2005]