Post by rossco4worldchamp on May 24, 2006 22:40:22 GMT -5
I found this article when I was scanning through Michael Gaffney's site. If you are bored, this is actually a pretty good article:
The rush and the risk
Would-be bull riders of all stripes bring something to prove to school
By Brendan McCarthy
Tribune staff reporter
Published May 22, 2006
GAYS MILLS, Wis. (YES there is really a town called Gays Mills here in beautiful WI. It's actually in one of the most beautiful places in the country) -- In the blood-specked chute, your limbs feel lifeless and your mind runs a losing race. With a nod, the gate opens and the fastest, most violent dance of your life begins atop a 1,400-pound bull.
Rick Schendel, senior vice president of a Chicago financial firm, came to this rodeo school on a remote Wisconsin ranch for just that feeling. The rush. The ride. The risk. All things a desk job doesn't offer.
Schendel isn't alone in his fascination with bull riding. With increased television coverage over the past six years, the sport has steadily transformed part-time cowboys, suburbanites and city slickers into die-hard fans.
About 1 in 5 people consider themselves bull-riding fans, according to Scarborough Sports Marketing, a New York-based research firm. And more than half the fans who watch Professional Bull Riders Inc. events on television live east of the Mississippi River, in places where belt buckles and cowboy boots are considered fashion accessories, not work wear.
But there's a big difference between riding a bull and wearing a buckle. That's why Midwesterners this month flocked to Lyle Sankey's traveling bull-riding school in southwest Wisconsin.
Everyone here has something to prove. About two dozen teenage boys are trying to become men in a mere eight seconds--the qualifying standard for a ride. They are looking to punch their ticket out of one-stoplight towns and win coveted belt buckles on pro circuits. In the inner city, children shoot for basketball superstardom. On the farm they hope for rodeo glory.
A handful of 30-something urbanites--from pathology assistants to day traders and plastic-ware designers--are here to test their mettle, temper a midlife crisis or put together a good story for barroom buddies.
And somewhere in between is Wisconsin farm girl Heather Becker, 16.
"If a guy can do it, so can a girl," she said.
The school begins with 33 bull riders and five bullfighters (commonly called rodeo clowns) standing quietly outside a barn. They all wear the uniform--the boots, the hat, the plaid western-style shirt tucked into a pair of tight bluejeans.
Name tags and equipment are handed out. Josh Hanson-Flores, 15, slight fuzz above his lip, considers himself a rodeo veteran.
Hanson-Flores, of Woodbury, Minn., attended a three-day Sankey seminar last year in Texas and has ridden in several local rodeos. He owns boots, straps, spurs, a vest, gloves and a John Wayne attitude. The sinewy teen has a white ring on his back pocket, courtesy of Copenhagen long cut, and he quickly earns the nickname "Cowboy Josh."
He and many others throughout the weekend say their archnemesis is not the bull, it is the Hollywood cowboy, the man with the well-bent brim and sleek boots. He is "too sissy" to ride and instead co-opts the cowboy culture to pick up women, Hanson-Flores says.
Matt Carpenter, 26, of North Chicago, came to give bull riding another shot. Carpenter, a petty officer second class at Great Lakes Naval Station, has full-length tattoos on both arms and the words "stay true" inked across his knuckles. His wife is 4 1/2 months pregnant with their third child.
His last ride ended about eight years ago with three broken ribs.
"After I got hurt, I hung up my gear," he says. "I got married, had some kids and joined the Navy. Now I'm getting the itch again."
He mounts the third bull of the afternoon. It bucks hard out of the gate. The bull turns hard right, then left. Carpenter is on the ground on his back.
"I could feel my back adjusting, cracking," Carpenter says. "I almost had him."
After the riding session, school owner Lyle Sankey leads the group into a barn and critiques videotape. Sankey uses phrases like "Gah-lee" when imploring students to be aggressive and "grow fangs," stay off their pockets or keep their free arm in position.
"It's just an animal. You need to outthink the animal. You own this real estate," he says. "When you get on the toilet tonight, I want you looking at your hip, thinking about your arm and your ride."
Sankey, 51, of Branson, Mo., owns their attention. He is a renowned former rodeo star who started this school 31 years ago with his brother. He holds weekend rodeo seminars at about 30 ranches and arenas that he rents out across the country each year.
Sankey says TV coverage has increased the sport's visibility, which means more sponsorship, more money, more people attending his school.
Pro bull-riding ranks just behind the National Hockey League in popularity, according to Scarborough Sports Marketing. About 12 percent of the Chicago market follows bull riding, the research company said, which puts the city near the bottom of the rankings but ahead of major East Coast cities such as New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Washington.
The Professional Bull Riders circuit, billed as the toughest sport on dirt, has more than 800 riders around the world who compete in more than 250 events annually, spokeswoman Megan Darnell said. Competitions are televised weekly on the Outdoor Life Network and about eight times a year on NBC, and they are scheduled to air three times this fall after pro football on Fox. The other major league, the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association, sanctions 650 rodeos annually, spokeswoman Ann Bleiker said, noting that in 2005, more than 60 million people watched on television.
Injuries are a big part of rodeo. A 25-year-old man died in 2005 at a Sankey school in Ohio after a bull threw him, and on day two of the recent school here a bullfighter apparently broke his ankle after a bull picked him up and tossed him to the ground.
Typical injuries include torn shoulders, back and neck injuries, and an assortment of broken bones.
Sankey says injuries at his school are limited because he uses top-notch equipment, livestock and supervision. But like any sport, there is a chance of getting hurt. He says he doesn't keep track of the injuries at his rodeo schools.
Sometime after the bullfighter is hauled away in an ambulance, Carpenter decides he's done. At the end of the day he turns in his equipment.
"I'm ready to get back to Navy life," he says. "I got priorities. My career, my kids, my family. I can't get hurt."
The school culminates with a bull-riding competition.
Becker, the lone female rider, opts out. She says she hurt her shoulder in her previous ride.
Schendel, 35, mimes his stance as he prepares to mount his bull, a black, mean-looking animal that's whacking its horns against the chute, sending thunderclaps through the back pen and shivers up spines.
Schendel is married with two children, ages 4 and 6, and has a house in South Elgin with the proverbial picket fence.
"I've been watching [bull riding] the last three years on TV," he says. "I've just become fascinated with it. ... I told my wife there are things I want to do in life, and one of them is riding a bull."
Atop the bull, with a sharp intake of breath, he nods and says, "Rock 'n' roll." The chute opens. He's promptly deposited into the just-tilled soil.
"I was probably on it about a second, a second-and-a-half," Schendel says. "But it was the greatest second, second-and-a-half of my life."
- - -
STUDENTS WITH SOMETHING TO PROVE
Heather Becker, 16
A sophomore at Cumberland (Wis.) High School. ... First time riding a bull. ... She trains horses; has three horses and a cat. ... She hopes to enter the Spooner Rodeo this July in Spooner, Wis., and wants to be rodeo queen. ... "I don't really get an adrenaline rush from horses anymore. So this makes sense."
Matt Carpenter, 26
A petty officer second class at Great Lakes Naval Station in North Chicago. . . . Married, two children, wife is pregnant. ... Rode bulls in high school, and broke three ribs about eight years ago; hasn't ridden since. ... "If I don't get up there, I'll regret it. This is my shot. I don't want any regrets."
Rob Klebenow, 20
A mechanic from Richfield, Wis. ... First time on a bull. ... "In high school I was that hillbilly. I wore the shiniest belt buckle. ... Everyone called me `Rodeo Rob' and `Hillbilly Guy.' I never rode a bull though. Now I am going to wear [the buckle] with pride. I'm no longer a Hollywood cowboy."
Rick Schendel, 35
A South Elgin, Ill., resident who is senior vice president, head of trading, at Mesirow Financial. ... Married, two children. ... First time on a bull. ... "I guess I'm going through a midlife crisis. ... I won't be going on tour, but there will be some personal satisfaction if I know I held my own."
Josh Hanson-Flores, 15
A sophomore at Woodbury (Minn.) Senior High School. ... Attended Sankey Rodeo School last year in Kansas. ... "In your head, you've just got to get ready, no matter if it's a small bull or you are riding a [Professional Bull Riders] bull. You are always going to be jittery. You've got those butterflies and you are like, `Man, I cannot do this.'"
Dave Wheeler, 33
Of Oak Park, Ill., a research technician for Clorox Services Co. who designs GladWare. ... First time riding a bull. ... Has sky-dived, scuba dived, driven tanks in the Army, worked on an Alaskan fishing boat. ... "I look for an adrenaline rush. ... Hands down this takes it all. This is what I enjoy the most."
- - -
ABOUT THE WRITER
Tribune staff reporter Brendan McCarthy took part in the Sankey bull-riding school early this month, wearing the hat, the boots and the spurs, and carrying a pen and small notebook.
He rode two bulls--one was big, and the other was big and mean. The first ride lasted about 3 seconds, other riders said. The second ride lasted somewhere between 0.01 seconds and 2 seconds. There's no stopwatch, and it's hard to keep track of time when you're being thrown by a bucking bull.
McCarthy, who has lived in cities all his life and had never ridden an animal, left the school with some serious respect for bull riders, along with several nasty bruises and a wrenched lower back.
The rush and the risk
Would-be bull riders of all stripes bring something to prove to school
By Brendan McCarthy
Tribune staff reporter
Published May 22, 2006
GAYS MILLS, Wis. (YES there is really a town called Gays Mills here in beautiful WI. It's actually in one of the most beautiful places in the country) -- In the blood-specked chute, your limbs feel lifeless and your mind runs a losing race. With a nod, the gate opens and the fastest, most violent dance of your life begins atop a 1,400-pound bull.
Rick Schendel, senior vice president of a Chicago financial firm, came to this rodeo school on a remote Wisconsin ranch for just that feeling. The rush. The ride. The risk. All things a desk job doesn't offer.
Schendel isn't alone in his fascination with bull riding. With increased television coverage over the past six years, the sport has steadily transformed part-time cowboys, suburbanites and city slickers into die-hard fans.
About 1 in 5 people consider themselves bull-riding fans, according to Scarborough Sports Marketing, a New York-based research firm. And more than half the fans who watch Professional Bull Riders Inc. events on television live east of the Mississippi River, in places where belt buckles and cowboy boots are considered fashion accessories, not work wear.
But there's a big difference between riding a bull and wearing a buckle. That's why Midwesterners this month flocked to Lyle Sankey's traveling bull-riding school in southwest Wisconsin.
Everyone here has something to prove. About two dozen teenage boys are trying to become men in a mere eight seconds--the qualifying standard for a ride. They are looking to punch their ticket out of one-stoplight towns and win coveted belt buckles on pro circuits. In the inner city, children shoot for basketball superstardom. On the farm they hope for rodeo glory.
A handful of 30-something urbanites--from pathology assistants to day traders and plastic-ware designers--are here to test their mettle, temper a midlife crisis or put together a good story for barroom buddies.
And somewhere in between is Wisconsin farm girl Heather Becker, 16.
"If a guy can do it, so can a girl," she said.
The school begins with 33 bull riders and five bullfighters (commonly called rodeo clowns) standing quietly outside a barn. They all wear the uniform--the boots, the hat, the plaid western-style shirt tucked into a pair of tight bluejeans.
Name tags and equipment are handed out. Josh Hanson-Flores, 15, slight fuzz above his lip, considers himself a rodeo veteran.
Hanson-Flores, of Woodbury, Minn., attended a three-day Sankey seminar last year in Texas and has ridden in several local rodeos. He owns boots, straps, spurs, a vest, gloves and a John Wayne attitude. The sinewy teen has a white ring on his back pocket, courtesy of Copenhagen long cut, and he quickly earns the nickname "Cowboy Josh."
He and many others throughout the weekend say their archnemesis is not the bull, it is the Hollywood cowboy, the man with the well-bent brim and sleek boots. He is "too sissy" to ride and instead co-opts the cowboy culture to pick up women, Hanson-Flores says.
Matt Carpenter, 26, of North Chicago, came to give bull riding another shot. Carpenter, a petty officer second class at Great Lakes Naval Station, has full-length tattoos on both arms and the words "stay true" inked across his knuckles. His wife is 4 1/2 months pregnant with their third child.
His last ride ended about eight years ago with three broken ribs.
"After I got hurt, I hung up my gear," he says. "I got married, had some kids and joined the Navy. Now I'm getting the itch again."
He mounts the third bull of the afternoon. It bucks hard out of the gate. The bull turns hard right, then left. Carpenter is on the ground on his back.
"I could feel my back adjusting, cracking," Carpenter says. "I almost had him."
After the riding session, school owner Lyle Sankey leads the group into a barn and critiques videotape. Sankey uses phrases like "Gah-lee" when imploring students to be aggressive and "grow fangs," stay off their pockets or keep their free arm in position.
"It's just an animal. You need to outthink the animal. You own this real estate," he says. "When you get on the toilet tonight, I want you looking at your hip, thinking about your arm and your ride."
Sankey, 51, of Branson, Mo., owns their attention. He is a renowned former rodeo star who started this school 31 years ago with his brother. He holds weekend rodeo seminars at about 30 ranches and arenas that he rents out across the country each year.
Sankey says TV coverage has increased the sport's visibility, which means more sponsorship, more money, more people attending his school.
Pro bull-riding ranks just behind the National Hockey League in popularity, according to Scarborough Sports Marketing. About 12 percent of the Chicago market follows bull riding, the research company said, which puts the city near the bottom of the rankings but ahead of major East Coast cities such as New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Washington.
The Professional Bull Riders circuit, billed as the toughest sport on dirt, has more than 800 riders around the world who compete in more than 250 events annually, spokeswoman Megan Darnell said. Competitions are televised weekly on the Outdoor Life Network and about eight times a year on NBC, and they are scheduled to air three times this fall after pro football on Fox. The other major league, the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association, sanctions 650 rodeos annually, spokeswoman Ann Bleiker said, noting that in 2005, more than 60 million people watched on television.
Injuries are a big part of rodeo. A 25-year-old man died in 2005 at a Sankey school in Ohio after a bull threw him, and on day two of the recent school here a bullfighter apparently broke his ankle after a bull picked him up and tossed him to the ground.
Typical injuries include torn shoulders, back and neck injuries, and an assortment of broken bones.
Sankey says injuries at his school are limited because he uses top-notch equipment, livestock and supervision. But like any sport, there is a chance of getting hurt. He says he doesn't keep track of the injuries at his rodeo schools.
Sometime after the bullfighter is hauled away in an ambulance, Carpenter decides he's done. At the end of the day he turns in his equipment.
"I'm ready to get back to Navy life," he says. "I got priorities. My career, my kids, my family. I can't get hurt."
The school culminates with a bull-riding competition.
Becker, the lone female rider, opts out. She says she hurt her shoulder in her previous ride.
Schendel, 35, mimes his stance as he prepares to mount his bull, a black, mean-looking animal that's whacking its horns against the chute, sending thunderclaps through the back pen and shivers up spines.
Schendel is married with two children, ages 4 and 6, and has a house in South Elgin with the proverbial picket fence.
"I've been watching [bull riding] the last three years on TV," he says. "I've just become fascinated with it. ... I told my wife there are things I want to do in life, and one of them is riding a bull."
Atop the bull, with a sharp intake of breath, he nods and says, "Rock 'n' roll." The chute opens. He's promptly deposited into the just-tilled soil.
"I was probably on it about a second, a second-and-a-half," Schendel says. "But it was the greatest second, second-and-a-half of my life."
- - -
STUDENTS WITH SOMETHING TO PROVE
Heather Becker, 16
A sophomore at Cumberland (Wis.) High School. ... First time riding a bull. ... She trains horses; has three horses and a cat. ... She hopes to enter the Spooner Rodeo this July in Spooner, Wis., and wants to be rodeo queen. ... "I don't really get an adrenaline rush from horses anymore. So this makes sense."
Matt Carpenter, 26
A petty officer second class at Great Lakes Naval Station in North Chicago. . . . Married, two children, wife is pregnant. ... Rode bulls in high school, and broke three ribs about eight years ago; hasn't ridden since. ... "If I don't get up there, I'll regret it. This is my shot. I don't want any regrets."
Rob Klebenow, 20
A mechanic from Richfield, Wis. ... First time on a bull. ... "In high school I was that hillbilly. I wore the shiniest belt buckle. ... Everyone called me `Rodeo Rob' and `Hillbilly Guy.' I never rode a bull though. Now I am going to wear [the buckle] with pride. I'm no longer a Hollywood cowboy."
Rick Schendel, 35
A South Elgin, Ill., resident who is senior vice president, head of trading, at Mesirow Financial. ... Married, two children. ... First time on a bull. ... "I guess I'm going through a midlife crisis. ... I won't be going on tour, but there will be some personal satisfaction if I know I held my own."
Josh Hanson-Flores, 15
A sophomore at Woodbury (Minn.) Senior High School. ... Attended Sankey Rodeo School last year in Kansas. ... "In your head, you've just got to get ready, no matter if it's a small bull or you are riding a [Professional Bull Riders] bull. You are always going to be jittery. You've got those butterflies and you are like, `Man, I cannot do this.'"
Dave Wheeler, 33
Of Oak Park, Ill., a research technician for Clorox Services Co. who designs GladWare. ... First time riding a bull. ... Has sky-dived, scuba dived, driven tanks in the Army, worked on an Alaskan fishing boat. ... "I look for an adrenaline rush. ... Hands down this takes it all. This is what I enjoy the most."
- - -
ABOUT THE WRITER
Tribune staff reporter Brendan McCarthy took part in the Sankey bull-riding school early this month, wearing the hat, the boots and the spurs, and carrying a pen and small notebook.
He rode two bulls--one was big, and the other was big and mean. The first ride lasted about 3 seconds, other riders said. The second ride lasted somewhere between 0.01 seconds and 2 seconds. There's no stopwatch, and it's hard to keep track of time when you're being thrown by a bucking bull.
McCarthy, who has lived in cities all his life and had never ridden an animal, left the school with some serious respect for bull riders, along with several nasty bruises and a wrenched lower back.
