Some of the amazing athleticism and guts I’ve ever seen was at the Prescott Rodeo a couple of years ago (my first). Most patriotic night out ever, too.
My family always went to the St. Paul, OR rodeo on July 4, which was my dad’s birthday, every year from the early 60s until maybe 2000 or so. The announcer used to introduce Dad to the crowd. It wasn’t a huge rodeo, but I remember that Wilbur Plaugher would be there each year when I was a kid in the 60s.
Dad died in 2002, and I haven’t been back to that part of the world in at least 20 years now. Sometimes I wonder what that rodeo’s like these days. I hope it’s still just the same.