Rodeo Memories Are Unlike Any Other

By Ted Harbin/Photo Courtesy of Wade Thibodeaux

Sometimes smells trigger it. Sometimes it’s a sound or photograph, but memories are parts of our daily lives.

What is a greatest rodeo memory? Maybe it was the first gold-buckle moment or a 25-hour drive in a van loaded with bronc busters heading from Hermiston, Oregon, to Lovington, New Mexico, only to arrive just minutes too late for a chance to ride one of the greatest bareback horses.

As a rodeo storyteller, it’s my job to get that information, but I have my own recollections, too. Most of mine come with an aspect of doing my job, like my first National Finals Rodeo in 2001.

Travel took longer than necessary, so I was scrambling by the time I arrived at the Thomas & Mack Center. The rodeo began at 9 p.m. Central, and I had no idea what I was going to write about for my 9:30 deadline. With some help from longtime rodeo journalist Bryan Painter, I opted for a piece on how good the steer wrestling cattle were.

As if he’d heard my conversation with Painter, steer wrestler Ricky Huddleston walked by the tiny media room. He’d made the NFR before and was the bulldogging director and the perfect source. We talked during the national anthem. I returned to my spot and met the deadline, then had to figure out the next story for a midnight deadline. It was one memorable way to enter my first NFR.

Since then, I have been in the media room for 18 other NFRs. That tiny room is now the contestant lounge, outfitted with couches, comfy chairs, snacks and a keg of beer. The media room moved to UNLV’s auxiliary gym, where the Runnin’ Rebels practice.

There are many highlights from that room. In 2011, I rejoiced with Turtle Powell and Jhett Johnson as they celebrated their world championship together. In 2016, I happened upon a somewhat lost Tim O’Connell just after he’d won his first of three straight gold buckles, and he just needed to hug someone; I just happened to be it. We’ve become good friends and have shared other hugs since.

I was in a swarm of reporters who surrounded and watched Wade Sundell choke up when he talked about winning his first world championship in 2018. I’ve watched young cowboys mature and got to write about amazing barrel horses and their jockeys.

But that first NFR was something. Huddleston died in 2014, but the memory of that conversation from 25 years ago – and the stress that came with it – stands tall in a lifetime of storytelling.