THE DAYS ARE STILL HOT AND LONG, but an autumn breeze is creeping into the nights. In the fields, garbanzos, lentils, and hay have all ripened to a uniform straw color. Soon they will be harvested, and the stubble and bare soil left to winter’s ravages will look ominous, as in fact they are. But for now, everything is fullness, completion, the slow and heavy part of the year. Smoke from wildfires makes the air hazy. It’s rodeo season.
There are all different types of rodeo: informal, unpublicized ranch rodeos organized by working ranch hands; amateur, collegiate, and semi-pro events; and pro events where entrants compete for money prizes. Among these are the Indian National Finals Rodeo and the Professional Bull Riders league and the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association (PRCA). The PRCA system is a bit complicated: As I understand it, your total prize winnings in any contest in the country count towards a shot at the National Finals Rodeo, but the country is also divided up into circuits. Competing in your home circuit gives you a shot at the National Circuit Finals Rodeo. Rodeo cowboys who don’t win money stand to lose their entry fee, their travel expenses, and maybe their spinal integrity. The big money prizes are a big draw, while working your circuit can represent a more modest bet. The smaller, less munificent roundups often have the relaxed charm of minor league baseball: smaller cities, high commitment to having a good time, players whose non-stardom lends a kind of purity to their love of the game—but still, with the possibility of glory always hanging in the air.
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