My Bull Riding Career is Officially Over
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It happened just about two weeks prior to my writing this piece. I decided that after breaking my leg at the age of 50 it was time to hang up my bull rope. Remember Freckles Brown riding the bull that had never been rode at the National Finals Rodeo in Oklahoma City at age 46? Did you see Billy Etbauer at age 46 win two rounds of saddle bronc riding at the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas, Nevada this year? Yes, and according to my sawbones it was a bad break this time. To keep it concise, a spiral fracture to the tibia and fibula in my right leg. They had to insert a titanium rod inside my right leg and screw it together. The old saw bones said if I get well, I shouldn’t get back on another bull. Of course, I never listened to him before, but at age 50 you start looking at things a little differently. The breaks and repairs start adding up. I’m sure I know exactly how Evel Knievel felt every morning. I hate to admit age has anything to do with it, but needing bifocals to tighten the bull rope around your riding hand is not a good sign.
Naturally I was on the far south end of the ranch, by myself, about 2 miles from headquarters, when this wreck took place. This is not unusual for me to be out there by myself as that’s the way I like it. Because we live between two large mountains that are east and west there is no cell phone service, which most of the time I like. However, after I came down and hit the ground I kind of wished I had some cell service. It happened so fast that I did not have time to put my hands out to break the fall. It was kind of like getting shot, it dropped me that quick. So there I am on the ground rather stunned that it could get me off so quick. I gathered my wits about me and decided to get up. Just about that time I noticed that my foot was pointing the opposite direction from my knee. Having been a boy scout in my young life I was very familiar with first aid and I had also been to hundreds of horse wrecks and even caused a few. Right away I gingerly straightened my broken leg in the right direction and attempted to find something to splint it with. There wasn’t much around on that hard dirt so I attempted to crawl out to the desert. That’s not easy to do when you are not completely attached. The lucky part is that this happened about 4:00 in the afternoon and I’m always home for supper at 5:00. When you don’t show up for supper on a ranch, people think it’s serious and come looking for you. Around 5:30 my wife showed up to find me lying on the side of the road. Of course I was glad to see her as the sun had set and it was getting quite chilly. She covered me up with some coats and went home to call the ambulance. After about another 30 minutes I could here an ambulance coming and then it stopped. Of course they couldn’t get the ambulance back in the rough country where I was so they came in a pickup. They splinted my leg and strapped me to a “board” and put me in the pickup with my head hanging out the back which I thought was pretty dumb. What if I slid out on those steep hills? I guess they figured my head to be the hardest part. Needless to say, I didn’t slide out, but it was close a couple of times. Finally we got back to the ambulance. My wife rode up front with the driver and I of course was riding laying down in the back. Now the road to our ranch is pretty rough and windy. There was a rather portly ambulance attendant riding in the back with me. Pretty soon she was on top of me crushing my ribs and knocking the wind out of me as we raced up the rough windy road. I finally got to the emergency room about 3 1/2 hours after the incident. I wasn’t sure what to tell the doctor to check first, my broken leg or ribs.
They operated on me the next morning and put a titanium rod in my leg. When you looked at the xrays you could see the “DEWALT” drill they put the screws in with. Highly technical hospital equipment that they got at the local, friendly, hardware store. If I remember correctly they put me on a couple of sawhorses for the operating table. It just dawned on me why I keep having dreams of “Tim the Tool Man Taylor and Al Borlund. After the operation I stayed in the hospital a couple of days. Boy, you certainly don’t need to go to a hospital to get a rest. Those nurses are always poking and prodding you at all hours. Now I know what a steer in a feedlot feels like. So here I am, tall, handsome, well dressed, and I always got my cowboy hat cocked just right! Naturally they took all that stuff away from me in the hospital and I had to lay there in one of those gowns that let your backsides hang out. Not a good way to be suave and debonair. On the third day they told me to “get out”. Of course, getting out of a hospital is just as hard as getting in. I finally got my clothes back, but had to be wheeled out in a wheel chair. Now the best part about that was being wheeled out by a cute young Italian nurse named Anna that said I was her favorite patient. I tried hard to bring Anna home with me, but my wife said I already had enough pets.
Now I’m just sitting here for many weeks trying to heal up. I called Tuff Hedeman and told him I wouldn’t be in the PBR next season. Needless to say, he was crushed at the idea of losing his 50 yr. old phenomenon. Nope, I guess I’m going to put my bull ropes on Ebay along with my chaps. Hey, anyone want to buy some used bullrider underwear? Oh now don’t worry, I’m still going to continue the “ old man” sport of “working cowhorse” just as soon as I’m healed. However, I’m so disappointed over my future in the bull riding. Now mind you I haven’t graced the back of a bull since I was 20, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t intend to go back at it as soon as I got the time. It’s hard to believe my bull riding career ended on a step ladder.