Persistence Pays!

Rumford Rodeo Company of Abbyville, Kan., had a bull that was known as, simply, “104.” This number was branded on his left hip; he had no other name as several other of the bulls in the string did: Paleface, Mighty Mouse, State Patrol, Aerosol, Speck, Black Bart, Little Floyd, etc… Mr. Floyd Rumford, the stock contractor,  had purchased him from Tommy Steiner, a Texas rodeo producer. He (104) was a big, long, raw-boned, red bull with little curved upright horns. He didn’t turn back and spin; but when he was at his peak he got in the air, bucked hard, kicked over his head, and didn’t cover a lot of ground during those 8 seconds. He wasn’t terribly hard to ride but had some downdraft; he was what we called “heavy.” He wasn’t real “showy” in his bucking pattern, but just a solid draw and he didn’t fight. I was thinking that if I could draw him somewhere, I could win a check if I made the “tooter” (8-second horn). Well, I got my wish. I ended up drawing him five different times! Now, it’s not terribly unusual to draw the same bull more than once, but five times is crazy town!

So, at Fort Scott, Kan., at an open amateur rodeo when I was all of 19 years old, I got him.  I thought to myself, “Here’s the deal!” When they opened the gate he took a big leap and got me back off my rope and in about three or four jumps, he tossed me off his left hand side and proceeded to plant his two back feet on my rib cage…result: four broken ribs, punctured lung, collapsed lung, bruised kidneys.  Trip to the hospital.  Sore for weeks. Lived to tell about it, which was fortunate; otherwise there’s no story to tell! Dad picks me up the next day. I think he thought that was the end of my foolishness.

104, Chapter 2: Conway Springs, Kan., open amateur rodeo exactly one year later. I was sweating it; saw the draw sheet with my name beside his number. Even though he didn’t fight or try to kill you, I was a little jumpy. He bucked harder this time; I rode him better; right to the whistle. He bucked me off, but I was sure I’d made it. Judging from the other qualified rides, I’d get a check. But, the judges wouldn’t mark me; the one running a stop watch showed me: 7.8 seconds. No check today.

Third time is a charm, right? Hays, Kan., college rodeo. Saturday morning slack; almost exactly one year after Conway Springs. I hated Saturday morning slack!  Go to look at the draw sheet. 104. Again. Oh, boy! Saturday morning slack and 104 to boot!  How could I have possibly drawn him for the third time out of that entire pen of bulls in less than three years? Well, here we go again! He BLEW out of the chute; he was obviously feeling better about the matchup than I was. I have a picture of that ride there at the gate (but couldn’t find it for this blog), with him kicking up over his head and me about two feet off my rope!  But, I recovered. He bucked pretty good; I was riding him; things were going well.  He headed toward the fence and brushed right up against it as if he’s trying to rub me off. For instinctive reasons, and before the whistle blew, I touched the top of the fence with my free hand; that’s a disqualifier. Stupid, stupid, mental mistake. So, I rode him, but no score. No check. I was humiliated. I had my tail between my legs. Three times, three outcomes that were less than acceptable to me.

By now, I’m getting really sick of him. I did not care if I ever, ever, drew that sorry patch of red hide stretched out over those miserable bones. Alas, the following year, I got him at the college rodeo in Pratt, Kan., in September during a Sunday afternoon performance.  OK. Weather is nice, he’d been bucking well, a team mate of mine from Panhandle State had ridden him the night before and was sitting third or fourth (they paid six places there; eighty bull riders entered). He bucked GREAT!  I rode him WELL! Jerked the tail on my rope after the whistle and bailed off; safely to the ground! I felt like a bazillion dollars!  I don’t remember my score, but I was 7th. Good ride, but no check.

Final time: Garden City, Kan., college rodeo. I was living in Oklahoma and I called my buddy who was up there the night before in the bronc riding.  “What’d I draw?” I asked. Joe said, “A good one. Come on up.”  I replied, “It’s NOT 104, is it?”  “No,” Joe says (Joe is a terrible liar). He was my best friend and he knew the story.  I became accusatory. I said, in much louder voice, “It’s 104, isn’t it!?”  He said, “Spike (my nickname), you need to drive up here and get on him.” “Joe, if it’s 104, I’m not wasting my time!” He says, “Spike, you need to drive up here and get on your bull.” I finally figure, “What do I have to lose, even if it is 104?”  It’s April; it’s rainy, cold, and the wind is blowing. The arena is a sticky, gummy mess with standing water in little pools. My heart is about as big as a peach pit. Climbing on his wet back, trying to keep my rosin, rope, and glove dry, I nod my head one more time for this bovine nemesis of mine. I rode him, he didn’t buck very well because of the mud and probably because he was as sick of me as I was of him. Bailed off, covered in mud, and drove back home with another score, but no check.

Persistence. While I never won a dime on 104, I overcame my fears and mounted up. I finally got him ridden! I did conquer him in the end…I didn’t give up. Maybe I was just young and stupid, or too dumb to know; but I often draw on this experience to remind myself that you can accomplish your goals. It may not be the ultimate goal that I had in mind (winning money), but I loved it and I just kept on doing it.

Perhaps that’s the way some cattlemen feel about their goals of reaching 20% Prime and 80% Certified Angus Beef. Maybe they’re nowhere near that, but trying to get better. Just when they thought they had good cattle, and had been selecting the right genetics, things just didn’t work out. They got their carcass results from the packer and they fell short of what they thought they could get done. However, persistence in selecting more of the right genetics, and continuing to pursue higher values for your cattle and adding more to your bottom line will pay.  It’s a journey, and it takes time, but you’ll get there!

Don’t give up!  Persistence pays!

~Gary

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