This IS My First Rodeo

I recently attended my first Professional Bull Riders (PBR) event in Pendleton, Oregon. I thought I was attending the famous Pendleton Round-Up rodeo; however, I was actually in town a day early and had secured a ticket to the PBR competition at Happy Canyon.

As an obvious outsider, I enjoyed watching the crowd and the event unfold over the course of the evening. The Pendleton High School Swim Club raised money by selling hamburgers and hotdogs from a mobile trailer. Dodge trucks and YETI coolers were on display for the fans to touch and feel. The arena chutes were sponsored by local businesses like Wheatland Insurance and The Hill Meat Company. And most importantly, Pendleton Whisky and Coors beer were well represented in the refreshment area. At 8pm sharp, the arena lights faded and the excitement began with a laser light show, pounding rock music and fireworks. With the crowd fully engaged the master of ceremonies introduced "the Cowboys" (those brave enough to ride the Bulls) and the Princesses (presumably local woman who had been voted to these positions, akin to a Homecoming Queen and her Court). And finally, the rodeo clown and his three bull-distracting companions were ushered into the arena. It seemed odd to me that there was no introduction of the bulls.

I was shocked at how loud the crowd cheered for the rodeo clown. Everyone seemed to know who he was, except me. As the night unfolded, I realized how important this man was to the event. Every time a Cowboy was bucked off quickly, the clown would make jokes and keep the audience engaged while the next rider was strapping himself to a 1,600 pound bull. During one particularly long hiatus, the clown broke into a lip sync rendition of Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" and his dance moves were very impressive for a middle-aged white guy. Part comedian, part jester, and part entertainer, the rodeo clown served as the secret sauce holding everything together and ensuring a great time was had by all.

For me, this event personified small town life at its finest. Young and old, black and white, American and Native American, locals and travelers all coming together to watch a sport that embodies the spirit of the West. Embracing the unknown twists and turns, facing harsh elements, accepting great risk and making the best of it regardless of the outcome. I felt I was surrounded by true pioneers that evening.

Prior to the first ride of the night, our MC asked everyone to stand and remove their hats for the opening invocation. You could hear a pin drop as this man gave thanks to God and asked for protection of the Cowboys. Immediately following the prayer, our national anthem began to play and as I searched the crowd I noticed every person in the arena was standing with their hand over their heart mouthing the words of “The Star-Spangled Banner". As we collectively concluded the song, I felt my eyes well up with tears. I was overcome by a warm feeling of deep pride and gratitude. And part of me felt restored knowing the America I have always hoped for still exists in this great land of ours.

But don't take my word for it, go see for yourself. Take a trip to Oregon next September and Let’er Buck!