The PBR

How can you not be excited about a competition that starts off with a pile of dirt suddenly bursting into flames to spell out an acronym?

Patty invited me to go with her and some other people this Friday to watch the PBR. That's Professional Bull Riders, and that's all she had to say to get me to clear my Friday night. Any event that allows me the opportunity to wear my big belt buckle and cowboy boots is an event I want to attend. Any event that brings out the white trash element in Orange County is an event I want to at least consider attending. That's how I found myself sitting in the Pond last night wondering where a person would even go to purchase a cowboy hat in this county. I still don't know, but plenty of other people there seemed to have figured it out.

The PBR did not disappoint. It was fantastic, and the only letdown is that it's sort of short. Although the guys only ride the bull for 8 seconds, so that does kind of make sense. Patty and I discovered that at first we were all about following the rider's, but it did not take us very long to adjust our focus to the bulls. It's pretty spectacular watching a huge animal like that writhing around and contorting itself every which way. We were kind of partial to the bulls that got so miffed that they would dismount their rider, ignore the exit gate, and race around the arena trying to gore somebody. It makes me want to never come in close proximity to one of those animals, and question the sanity of the riders. Whether or not they're crazy, it's really solid entertainment.