I'm Scared Strait

Why?

Why, I have been asked, would I subject myself to almost 20 hours of team roping over two long days? Five hundred cowboys all ropin’ their brains out near San Antonio for cash prizes. Why would anyone want to watch this? Only one reason…it was the George Strait Team Roping Classic and my wife “has always wanted to go.” So we went….and I learned quite a bit.

First, I learned to not gripe about the mind numbing repetition of steers being released, cowboys bolting on their horses….trying to rope the horns….then the feet of a poor unsuspecting cow. After eight hours on the first day, I made that mistake. I griped and I paid with pair of lasers that said, in so many words, shut up and deal with it.

Second, I learned that this can be a dangerous sport. Not for the cowboys….nary a one of them was hurt. But it was very dangerous for the poor cows. One broke his leg….and then there was the defining moment in the competition when the host maimed an unsuspecting baby cow with only a lariat. Yep, George kilt him a cow. Showing that he was still a cowboy, the king of country music let his rope get around the steer’s neck and not the horns. Snap….instant steak, brisket, ribs, etc.

The announcer tried to cover for George saying that the veterinarian on site would attend to the cow, but we all knew that cow was soon going to that big country music bar in the sky as soon as they got him out of the arena. “Make sure the cow doesn’t talk….we need to save George’s reputation as a friendly cowboy who only ropes ‘em….doesn’t kill them.” Of course my wife, there and blinded by the smallish 60-year-old cowboy who has had about 60 country number one hits, quickly dismissed what we had just witnessed in front of us.

She opined that some cows have weak necks. Yes, I said…and some cowboys don’t know how to rope….and kill cows. Namely, George.

The cherry on top of my cake was during the second day of competition….or at about the 12 hour mark. I was passed out in the corner of the arena when I heard Strait announce that he thought it was about time for him to once again perform in San Antonio. It made me wonder……do you think the cow-killing had anything to do with the announcement? Was he trying to appease the home folk after slaughtering one of their bovine? I think it is a possibility.

Nonetheless, I knew what Strait’s announcement meant for me. I would be returning to San Anton in May….somewhere in the first five or six rows….seats for which I will pay dearly….to see George try to make up for his rope murder. I will join about 13,000 screaming 50-year-old women who could care less that a mother cow somewhere is missing her little fella. They only care that George look their way once….wearing his surgically tight jeans….with that little smug smile….and that great big cowboy hat that hides his receding hairline.

I now make this warning….if you own a small cow anywhere near San Antonio during the first of May, protect him. Hide him and protect him. Because something tells me this Strait guy isn’t done. He’s a serial roper and somewhere out there, there’s another cow with his name on it.

God Bless Texas. Save Your Little Cows. I’m scared Strait.