As soon as he settles, I look up at the flank man. “Well, that felt fucking good. Nice to see you chute broke him before you brought him to town.”
He looks at me pissed at first, then realizes who I am. We’ve been friends for a long time—two of his sons are close to me in age. “Sorry, Knox, we’ll massage his neck with a rope, that will keep him calm. You want this one, you’ll win on him.”
I want to tell him I can’t win shit if he kills me in the chute, but I keep my mouth shut.
They get a rope over his head and lightly run it back and forth around his neck. Most guys here would get scared and try for the re-ride bull. Not me, it’s personal now.
I can hear the announcer in the background. “They’ll get this bull calmed down folks, and it’ll be worth the wait. This is four-time National Finals qualifier Knox Ward, a home state boy fromright here in Oklahoma. He finished fourth in the world last year and has already started this year out strong!”
The crowd cheers as I get my breathing under control and warm my rope back up.
Putting my hand back in the handle, I tell the guy, “Pull . . . pull . . . pull.” Taking the tail of my bull rope from him, I run it over the top of my hand and around it, then run the tail back over my palm. I close my hand and take one more deep breath as I slide up to my rope, grit my teeth, and nod my head.
The gate flies open and everything becomes a blur, but at the same time, I can see everything, feel everything. My mind is running a hundred different scenarios at once.
Then I feel the first kick. I stick my chest out and lift on my rope. The bull comes into a rear and I climb up over his hump, driving forward with my legs. He kicks again and I feel him in the left lead, so I lower my free arm and tilt my head to the left.
He rears and kicks. I match him perfectly. When I feel him stutter step, I stick my chest out again and raise my free arm slightly. He rears higher than before. I climb out over him, pushing a little more on the handle of my rope, then we’re floating in the air. Time stops.
I feel the next kick coming, and I know it’s going to be a big one. Gritting my teeth, I set my hips lifting on my rope and pull my knees up. His front feet hit the dirt, still in his left lead. Lowering my free arm, I keep my shoulders square.
He does this three more times around to the left before I finally hear the whistle blow. I ride him one more jump before I grab the tail of my rope with my free hand, then all at the same time, I yank on the tail and rotate my hips to the right. He kicks, flinging me off like I’m getting ejected from an airplane.
I look down.
Yikes.
I got some airtime on this dismount. I stick both heels in the dirt and stumble forward onto my hands and knees. I jump up and run to the bucking chute so I’m out of the way of the bullfighters and safe from getting run over.
“How about 90 points?!” the announcer roars.
The crowd erupts.
I smile and start giving the surrounding guys high fives.
“Good bull ride!” I hear.
“Way to be a hand!” someone yells.
“You’re one sticky dude!”
Guys all around me are excited about the ride and score.
That was one wild four-year-old.
I walk back to the chutes. I high five the returning bull fighters as I pick up my rope out of the arena dirt.
Climbing over the chute where Trey is standing over his bull, I challenge him. “Your turn.”
“Shit, they loaded your ass. You do make it look pretty though; I’ll give you that,” Trey says with a lopsided grin, flipping his blond hair out of his eyes.
I roll my eyes at him. “Shut up and ride your bull so you can pay me my $50.”
The gate opens, and the next kid is immediately bucked off. The bull runs around the arena trying to hook anything and everything.
Trey looks at me. “He sure is an angry feller.”
“Just focus and get in the chute. You joke around too much.” I wave my hand, motioning for him to get to work.
