Rodeo or football

January 14, 2012

I’m going to a rodeo today.  I’m really looking forward to it.  However, it seems really funny to actually look forward to it

 

When I was a kid, my parents took us to rodeos.  I was really into them when I was really young.  I think I was influenced by watching The Rifleman on television.  Living a cowboy life looked really great.  Cowboys on television were always beating the bad guys.  I’m going to be a cowboy!

 

While I was in the third grade, a new kid moved to town.  His dad was a veterinarian.  He knew quite a bit about horses and cows.  But, he didn’t like ‘em.  What?  He liked football!

 

Brad introduced me to the Green Bay Packers.  The Packers were a bunch of good guys that always beat the bad guys.  (Actually, the Packers were a bunch of hard drinking, womanizing, and gamblers.  We didn’t know it at the time, and it wouldn’t have mattered to us; we were kids.)

 

Brad and I were going to be Green Bay Packers.  We knew the name of every player on the team.  It was only waiting until we grew up and we would be on the Packers!  I traded my cowboy boots for a pair of Adidias.  Cost me $12.95 of my hard earned paper route money.  (Sorry, I have a thing for remembering numbers)

 

We got to high school and Brad moved to Texas , where he starred in football.  He found that he enjoyed girls and booze, (just like the real Packers).and he was really good at them. 

 

My junior year, our high school team played a team from Colorado Springs with a REAL football player.  During that game it became glaring obvious the Packers weren’t looking for anyone from our team.  This kid ran over us, we couldn’t get out of his way.  I remember thinking, oh no, here he comes again.

 

(This kid from Colorado Springs went on to play for Oklahoma State and then the Buffalo Bills.  Yes, I was run over by a future professional player)

 

As time went on, I became less interested in football.  The more felony convictions and tattoos the players get, the less I liked football.

 

A few years back, I found myself in Cancun .  I bought myself a pair of cowboy boots. I have the boots, I still like to watch The Rifleman.  Can you see why I am excited about going to the rodeo?

 

Elaine insists that I tell you that I was wearing shorts when I bought the boots in Cancun .  Returning to your cowboys roots can take time.  Now I have several pairs of boots.  OK, more than several, but some numbers are best forgotten.

 

Our crazy lives!

 

Monner

 

PS  Oh yeah, I was wondering.  Am I supposed to insert recipes in these stories?

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