So I understand that originally I started this blog (obviously not long ago) with the intention of putting up :musical: show reflections, but last night was too good a performance/event to pass up.
The girl I nanny for had been seeing advertisements for the PBR Invitational- a touring rodeo-for the entirety of the week. So Friday, her mom got us tickets and I surprised her after school with the announcement. It didn't start until 8pm, so we had an entire afternoon and evening to get excited for it.
As we pulled up to Madison Square Garden, it seemed my hometown during the month of September, had transplanted itself into the center of the Big Apple. Cowboy hats, jean jackets, beer branded coats, boots and buckles adorned people all around. There were posters of men and bulls alike all over the arena. We walked in, among the drunken Wall Streeters out for something different, allowed for the smell of livestock and manure to infest our nostrils, and found our seats. Everywhere I looked, people had plastic cups with pretzels sticking out of the handles. There was a "country" group on a circular stage in the middle of the rodeo ring. I hesitate with the country, as the girls look like they were ready for a night out in Jersey and the music was a -- well-- not great. Either way, it was entertaining to see city and country folks mixing and bobbing their heads to the same tunes. We went back out of the arena, grabbed a stuffed "Troubadour", a black PBR t-shirt and a straw cowgirl hat with pink trim to finish off the outfit. My little one was ready for a night out in the city.
The event began with a fiery PBR being lit in the ring and the Riders and Bulls alike being introduced like NBA players. Earlier that week, she had gotten so excited, she'd drawn a picture of a bull rider and decided she would give it to the best guy. This introduction allowed for her to choose her recipient- deciding on Kody Lostroh- a champion on many accounts.
There would be 6 flights of 6-7 riders. With the first rider, Kasey Hayes riding Rapid Reaction, only lasting 2.2 seconds, my little one was hit with great disappointment. "Well, he's not very good," she said, a little sad for the guy. I then showed her the score sheet I had been given (she made sure I kept record of everyone's time and if they passed 8.0 seconds, how many points they earned), and explained how the rankings beside their names worked. She seemed to be ok with that, considering Hayes was ranked 29 out of the 40 or so riders. She was sure Lostroh would stay on for as long as the rest.
We got through the first flight, 8 riders, and watched three of them stay on until the 8.0 second buzzer, where the little one's eyes lit up and hands clapped with fury. At this point, she learned about a new kind of rodeo clown- one that dances to hip-hop (a little risque if you asked the woman behind us) in the middle of the ring, and points out interesting people in the audience. He called out a little girl, all dressed in country regalia, and found out she'd traveled from Kansas for the event. I had to explain to my date how people in states west of New York, even in Ohio, went to rodeos and horse races like her parents went to dinner. It was a different kind of entertainment, a different type of lifestyle from what she's known.
Two more flights, four more buzzer beaters, and the clown was still at his tricks. He jumped into the stands to dance with a larger sized man from Jersey. They broke it down on the steps and then the clown informed him that sweatpants were not proper attire for the event he was attending- he expected better next time. I'm sure this large man had already drunk quite a few of the plastic beer mugs and eaten the pretzels. Along with that Jersey boy, there was a couple behind me in yuppy clothes- collared shirts, crisp black blouse and dark washed jeans, and a man in a suit and suspenders with his Upper East Side looking girlfriend next to him. They must have felt like they were out for their night of hanging with "real people" opposed to their martini sipping regular crowd.
The sheer size of the bulls are what struck my companion the most. She couldn't believe how massive they were- how strong they must have been to throw men like Ryan McConnel and Valdiron de Oliveira so far off their backs. She constantly commented on the smell- like nothing she'd inhaled before. I laughed- it was a smell that reminded me of visiting my dad at his "work", the farm he owned and ran for all of my childhood. When my little one visits her father at work, she is greeted with smells of fine french cuisine, white rolls and milk chocolate in a building owned by Donald Trump.
At this moment, the smell was comforting and soft for me, bringing back memories of the county fair in the fall; my first kiss and nights "out" without my parents as a middle schooler. My little one will have Broadway shows and museum trips to encompass her childhood- I had horse sales and races, football games, and town parades, county fairs and 4H competitions. I wasn't a country girl, I grew up in town, but the mentality of farm life was incorporated into the daily lives of my siblings and I- work hard for what you want in life, as you are owed nothing from anyone. These boys I sat watching, in the middle of Manhattan, on $95 seats, had worked their lives for nights like these, for people in thousand dollar suits with five dollar beers to cheer them on, to hold on just a milisecond longer.
By the time Kody gripped his rope around Smack Down, it was about 10 o'clock and my date was getting tired. His name was announced and all the sleep left her face as she sat straight up, riding every second along with Mr. Lostroh, praying the buzzer would be the end of the show. Unfortunately, Kody didn't hold on tight enough and no buzzer was pushed for him. My little one, however, still declared he would get her picture, and around the stadium we walked to get in line to give this rodeo champion a prize from a nine year old city girl.
"KODY!"
"Hey!"
"Hey! She drew this for you. She wants you to have it." (shyness seems to spring from her at the most inopportune times for me).
"Ah, well thank you. Chloe?"
"Yeah." (barely a voice coming out, but her eyes weren't moving from his face)
"Did you have fun?"
"Yeah."
"It was her first rodeo. She was so excited to come tonight. We had a blast-thank you!"
"No problem! Hopefully we'll see you again, Chloe?"
"Yep."
"Alright, thanks for coming."
She immediately turned and walked away. I couldn't figure out if she was star struck, or over exhausted, but the smile went full force the minute we got in the car on the ride home, and her little voice wasn't quiet the whole way home, telling the driver all the details she felt he needed to know.
A Rodeo in the middle of Manhattan. Who would have thought?
