Why? Just why must there be charming cowboys here and there? As I approach the gate, all I can focus on is all the charming cowboys. I begin to put my boot into the stirrup to embark Dancer, which of course is my horse. I am currently waiting my turn to perform the barrel racing event of the rodeo. There is nothing more nerve racking then having over three hundred people watching you perform for a life time, until something happened unexpectedly. As I get closer, my heart pumps faster and my hands begin to shake. I do not know why there are so many nerves acting up, it’s not like this is the first event I am performing in. On the other hand, many bull riders, steer wrestlers, etc. get nervous before performing. Slowly, the line moves. Dancer is getting anxious, making it difficult to keep him restless. Before I begin the run, I say a prayer for safety and a great performance. …show more content…
As soon as I heard “Tara Fegley, four year rodeo contestant”, that was my que to begin.
Dancer was being stubborn rising on his hind legs. Although I got him to calm down, I knew he contained his stubborn attitude. I kick Dancers sides, making him gallop through the gate. We are headed for barrel one. I can feel the wind through my hair, my locks blowing in the wind. Dancer and I trot around barrel one; Dancer’s hoof’s circle the barrel. With every step that he takes I hope that he does not fall and collapse. We gallop to barrel two; Dancer trots around the barrel, safely we make it. I kick Dancer on the sides to make him go faster. We head to barrel three, at a rapid speed. As soon as Dancer was about to round the barrel, his back right leg hit the back of the barrel. From the compact, Dancer lost control and began to fall to the
ground. Eventually I began to feel Dancer suddenly falling. I make an effort to get my feet out of the stirrups. Unfortunately I was not able to get my feet out. Suddenly, altogether I feel a huge impact between the ground and Dancer. At this time, my life change. “BAM.” The force between the ground and Dancer was excruciating. My leg felt as if the whole bone was completely shattered. There was so much pain arousing from my abdomen, I could not breathe. Dancer was beginning to arise. I felt myself rising from the ground. As I was rising, I begin to panic. I need to act quickly, because being dragged from a stirrup would not help. With a few circled movements my foot was free, causing me to collide with the ground. At last my breathing improved. As I lay there watching various people run at me, I pass out. At this moment in time, I could not remember what was happening. As soon as I woke up, there was rodeo staff, contestants, and most important paramedics. As I was lying there, the stadium was silent, as if everyone was shocked. Meanwhile, staring into the sky, there was so many questions that needed to be answered. The paramedics are constantly examining my abdomen, and my leg. One of the paramedics examines my neck. As usual, my neck needs to go into a brace in case of any neck injuries. Immediately after bracing my neck, I was rolled onto a stretcher. It felt as if I had been on the ground for hours, however it was only thirty minutes. I kept looking around for Dancer, as well as asking “Where is Dancer?” “You need to not move you neck. Someone has taken care of him” said the rodeo staff. The ride to the hospital seemed like an eternity. How far could the hospital be? I kept going in and out of consciousness. The paramedic would do everything to keep me awake. For a while, it felt as if I was going to sleep, and waking up. Finally we arrive at the hospital. They take me out of the ambulance, and take me into the hospital. I had to receive various x-rays, bloodwork, and examinations. Previously mentioned, staying at the hospital felt like an eternity as well. There was no broken bones, not internal bleeding, however I did receive a concussion and a few contused bones. After a while, I was discharged from the hospital. I was about to go home and lay in bed, however I could not go any longer without seeing Dancer. When we arrived at the stables, I jumped out of the car. There was so much pain sent up my leg maybe that was not a great idea. I walk into the stable, and I spot Dancers stable. Something was not right because his head was not out of the stall. I walk up to the door, and he is turned around looking at the side of the wall. As a result of the accident, he does not want to see me. I called his name so many times, and he has yet to turn around to look at me. Getting Dancer to look at me, and trust me again was difficult. I think he felt that I have betrayed him. He has never acted this way before. Eventually he trusted me again, and we were on the road again. In other words, my life has changed drastically. After the accident, I was not able to get into the saddle and round a barrel for about a year. Dancer was not able to trust me for a few months. Since we have been competing for four years, we have come a long way. I am lucky to have Dancer by my side at this moment. As I got older, I chose not to compete in the rodeo. Not only for the occurrence of the accident, but I’ll be off to college, it will be hard to let go. That did not stop me from being with the crowd. We are one enormous family. I always show up to local rodeos to visit the family. I will not let go of something I was a part of for four years.
The morning has came it’s race day your heart is pumping you are ready for the announcer to say 10 seconds!!!!!You are talking to your friends before the race and the
Actions are valued more than words, silence is an acceptable form of communication, manliness is next to godliness, and respect and loyalty are key. These are a few guidelines that belong to the infamous cowboy code John Grady lives up to in “All the Pretty Horses”. According to critic Jane Tompkins, the code consists of "self-discipline; unswerving purpose; the exercise of knowledge, skill, ingenuity, and excellent judgment; and a capacity to continue in the face of total exhaustion and overwhelming odds.”
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. I am the one who tries to throw the loop of a rope around a calf’s neck and Jake is my partner, the best roping horse a cowboy ever mounted. By the way, how many understand the art of calf roping? I thought so. Let me walk through the steps of what it takes to put together that perfect run, not that I can do it that often.
A common aspect of Flannery O’Connor’s literary works is her use of heavily flawed characters. O’Connor’s characters often exhibit gothic and incongruous characteristics. O’Connor’s short story, “Good Country People,” is no exception to her traditional writing style with characters such as Hulga Hopewell, Mrs. Hopewell, Mrs. Freeman, and Manley Pointer. O’Connor uses gothic characterization and symbolism to produce a great short story about a few ruthless country people.
old western mission while following the cowboy code of honor and his romantic ideals along with his lifestyle are all put to the test. It is the story of John Grady Cole living his dream as a cowboy where his true grit is tested and Cole’s survival seems questionable at multiple times throughout the story with encounters he faces. John Grady Cole does not know what exactly is waiting for him along his eventful journey.Early on John Grady Cole loses practically everything that he once thought would be his. Cole 's grandfather dies early just as Hamlet’s father died except Cole’s grandfather wasn’t murdered. Cole nevertheless did lose the land that was once his grand father 's. Cole’s mom who had left his father was still entitled to the property.
"Spotted Horses" and "Mule in the Yard" are two short stories by William Faulkner that deal with comedic animal chases. Although both provide entertaining examples of Faulkner's work in very similar settings, on the scale of literary value, "Spotted Horses" rises above "Mule in the Yard" in depth and insight. This superiority is result of both it's narrative style and character development, which causes "Spotted Horses" to produce an overall more powerful effect than "Mule in the Yard".
The crowd of rowdy men cheer and the auction winner pumps one fist in the air. The men nearest him raise their cups and clap him on the shoulder in congratulations. I want to scream, but instead I wilt and whimper in my frothy, pink ball gown. A camera pans in closely. I allow liberal amounts of fear to show on my face. Pictures of me flash by on the massive screens above the raised stage where I sit on a white satin stool. I barely recognize myself. I look sweet, innocent, vulnerable, but most of all, terrified.
His second attempt was again a failure but of a different and more serious type. The momentum of Jim’s feet kept going as he grasped the rim. This motion swung him upside down forcing him to lose his grip and fall ten very long feet.
When you attend the fair do you ever see people walking around with cowboy hats, boots and spurs, and button ups? Do you ever see girls with caked on makeup and crowns on their hats? Or maybe you have seen guys who have dirty clothes on, who kind of have a sway to their walk, or are wearing beaten up cowboy hats? If you are nodding your head yes then you have seen rodeo people, and you may already know the three most common types of rodeo people: Ropers, Roughies, and Barbie Dolls.
On behalf of the 42nd Congressional District, I am extending my heartfelt congratulations to you for being presented with the Certificate of Appreciation by the City of Norco on this special occasion of your 60th birthday. I regret that my Congressional duties prevent me from attending the National Day of the American Cowboy and celebrate with you.
During the mid-1900s, the beginning of a famous rodeo sport, had begun to become popular. The competitive sport came from the practices of herding cattle, in spain and mexico had began to quickly spread across the other countries. The sport was soon nicknamed “ The most dangerous eight seconds in sport history”, which eventually became part of rodeo. Bull riding has always been a dangerous sport. Not only is it a competitive sport, it tests the skills and speed of cowboys and cowgirls. Bull riding is the challenge of getting on a bucking bull and trying to stay on while the animal tries to buck the rider off.
Sliding the barn doors open, I step into a warm, comforting environment. Musty straw mingles with the sharp aroma of pine shavings, complementing each other. A warm glow from sporadically placed incandescent lightbulbs richens the leather tack, all cleaned and hanging ready for the day's use. From it wafts the smell of a new pair of shoes. The fruity essence of "Show Sheen", applied after yesterday's baths, still lingers in the air. Even the harsh stinging scent of urine and manure is welcome at this early morning hour. Breaking open a bale of hay, I sense the sweetness of the dried timothy as it engulfs my olfactory system, making me wish my queasy stomach had not made me skip breakfast. I am nervous, as are many others. I know that the day ahead will bring excitement, dread, triumph, and defeat. The unpredictable nature of horse shows causes frenzied questions, like salmon spawning, to run constantly though my mind. Will the judge like my own particular style? What if the red flowers bordering the first jump spook my horse? What if a piece of paper on the ground blows into the ring? Will this horse show be a success? The outcome depends not just on me; but a...
I got to the dojang a few minutes past eight thirty, and if I’ve ever come close to an anxiety attack, it was then. I opened the door and was greeted with “Good morning, are you ready for your big day?” from my master instructor, Master Buckley. There was no doubt that he could tell how nervous I was, telling me, “There’s nothing to be nervous about, Hunter.”
My heart was pounding. My closed fist was filling with sweat from my palm. We had not yet even lined up for formation, but still my nerves were all over the place. I was about to perform a nationals level inspection for the first time in drill.
In books and on television, the cowboy is seen as a tall, white, handsome, womanizer who could take on anybody that challenged him. But despite what was advertised in the media, cowboys weren’t as “all American” as they seemed to be. First, not all cowboys were