Friday, March 12, 2004

In Search of the American Cowboy

This Spring Break, I fled the February greyness of South Bend, Indiana, for the big blue skies of Tucson, Arizona.

By chance, I arrived in just in time for the rodeo, the 79th annual AFiesta de los Vaqueros. I’d never been to a rodeo, but I figured this was my chance to see a real cowboy in action. You could write what I know about cowboys on the head of a rusty horseshoe nail. My idea of a cowboy is some cross between John Wayne and the Marlboro Man - lean and solitary and entirely in the realm of fiction.

So I set off for the rodeo eager to discover the real American cowboy. I expected something like that scene in a Western, where you see the cowboy and his pardner ridin’ along easy in a cloud of dust, alongside a couple hundred head of cattle on the wide open range. They’re keeping the stock on the move by whistling and whupping, and roping in strays with their whirling lassoes. ... (Cowboy sounds???)

The Tucson rodeo was entirely different. The arena was packed with spectators in tiered bleachers like a football stadium. Under the judges’ box were the chutes, the metal pens from which the broncos and riders were released into the arena. There was a booming sound system playing not cowpokes yodeling but Classic Rock from the local radio station. True, the cowboys really were called Jess, Cody or Zack, and they hailed from Wyoming and Montana. But there was also a rodeo clown, a parade of glamorous Rodeo Queens and a ladies’ precision riding team to keep us entertained between rounds. Rodeo sports are inherently brief. The bareback bronc ride lasts 8 seconds at most: 3 of ten contestants didn’t last that long. It’s the perfect sport for spectators with a short attention span.

Pro Rodeo refines each task of the Old Time cowboy’s daily grind into a distinct competition sport. So, in team roping, one cowboy specialises in galloping ahead to rope the steer’s horns, while the other, the heeler, ropes the steer’s hind legs. The events are divided by gender, too: cowboys wrestle steers in the rodeo, cowgirls flip goats in the pre-rodeo. Barrel racing, in which each rider races against the clock around three barrels in a cloverleaf pattern, then gallops full tilt from the arena, seems to be a female rodeo specialty.

Contest rules about performance and scoring are precise and rigid. The ranch hand’s spontaneous bravado as he broke the wild horse to the saddle - AI can do this with one hand in the air - has become a contest rule that no rider shall touch the saddle with his free hand during his ride on penalty of being disqualified. I was surprised that the cowboy’s score partly depends on the bronc’s behaviour. But then the announcer explained that these Animal athletes are bred by Beutler Brothers of Elk City, Oklahoma, to enjoy Abucking - and performing in the arena.

Even if the rodeo cowboy is now fenced in by rules and regulations, still, he stands as an icon of rugged American masculinity. As such, his image is used to sell everything from chewing tobacco to Dodge pick-ups and Coors beer to would-be Real Men. Every aspect of the Wrangler Pro-Rodeo Winter Tour has been sold to a corporate sponsor, from the Jack Daniels chutes to the US Smokeless Tobacco Company electronic scoreboard. In many cases, by the time the announcer had finished naming the sponsors, the cowboy was already eating the dust of the arena.

As the most dangerous sport in Pro Rodeo, bull riding is touted as the triumph of Manly control over Nature. But from my safely distant seat in the bleachers, the even boldest cowboy looked like a rag doll tied on the bull’s monstrous back. The bull flings his rider back and forth with spine-snapping force. To me it looked like the nightmare revenge of every T-Bone steak you ever ate. But the crowd around me roared their approval and the rodeo carried on.

Broadcast by Louise Collins on March 12, 2004
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Joe Chaney -- More essays by Joe

Louise Collins -- In Search of the American Cowboy / More essays by Louise

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