Recently, my wife and I took one of our semi-grown daughters and her friend to the American Rodeo Championship Weekend at Globe Life Field in Arlington, Texas. But we weren’t there to see the adult, full-contact petting zoo that is a championship rodeo.

Instead, for around the cost of the latest iPhone, we bought four tickets to see country music heartthrob (and darn good singer) Riley Green and the almost-as-lovely-as-my-wife (in case she reads this) Ella Langley perform mid-rodeo.

Because the concert was sandwiched between the final and championship rounds of the rodeo, and no specific time was given for when the cow patties would stop flying and the music would start playing, Calvin Klein cowboys like us were forced to watch some rodeo action before we could get to what we came for. Heck, I even wore boots and a pair of “cowboy-tinted” jeans, meaning they were dyed to look as though I’ve done some actual work outdoors­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­-in the dirt, even.

The first rodeo event was the most important, namely finding something to eat.

My wife and I “ambled” all the way around the stadium concourse, trying to decide how best to victimize our credit cards on overpriced gas-station food. My wife settled on the Jumbo Dog, and since I was feeling fancy, I chose the grilled onion and bratwurst sandwich, which is really just a hot dog with rizz, designed to make you (and whoever is sitting in your general vicinity) regret it later.

When we returned to our seats, the rodeo fun began with events involving horses and cattle who seemed to be having a lot more fun than the ones I usually see standing out in pastures looking like they’re attending a time-share seminar.

Some folks consider rodeos cruel and abusive, but the saddle bronc riding, bareback riding and bull riding events all included animals who seemed to enjoy themselves thoroughly as they thrashed around like they were experiencing an acutely charismatic encounter with the Holy Spirit.

The tie-down roping and steer wrestling event, however, reminded me of what I go through when I try to give one of our pets a pill.

My wife and I also got a kick out of listening to the announcers call out the ostentatiously western-sounding names of competitors like “Dakota Eldridge,” “Stetson Wright,” Cash Robb” and “Dusky Hall.”

With a name like “Jase Graves,” I figured that I could fit in great with these rodeo athletes. The only qualities I lack are talent, athleticism, and an affinity for sitting astride an enormous, hyperactive farm animal gyrating to “Uptown Funk.”

Once the final round ended, and I’d had my fill of bratwurst and was feeling like a completely inadequate human being when it comes to the cowpoke arts, the concert began.

Although the music and performances by Riley Green (with his conquistador mustache/soul patch combo) and the gorgeously talented Ella Langley were great, my feelings of inadequacy were only intensified by memories of my mother unsuccessfully urging me to stay in the school choir and suggesting that I might look good with some facial hair.

Still, we had a lot of fun, and although I know I’ll never be a rodeo champion (or even a manure valet), I can always wear my boots and cowboy-tinted jeans when I order bratwurst.

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Copyright 2025 Jase Graves distributed exclusively by Cagle Cartoons newspaper syndicate.

Graves is an award-winning humor columnist from East Texas. His columns have been featured in Texas Escapes magazine, The Shreveport Times, The Longview News Journal, and The Kilgore News Herald. Contact Graves at [email protected].