Rooting For The Bulls (Not The Ones From Chicago)

For some reason, the Professional Bull Riders Tour landed at Madison Square Garden this weekend. Then again, in a city of eight million people, I'm sure we have our fair share of people who enjoy watching men wearing Wrangler jeans and protective headgear try to stay on a bull who very clearly doesn't want him on for eight seconds. I'm just not sure why.

I went because I have a friend who was able to procure his company's box suite. This means I had access to all the beer, wine, hamburgers, hot dogs and (most importantly) cookies that I could stuff into my mouth (or put in my pockets). Heck, I'll prolly see The Jonas Brothers if I was told there'd be cookies*.

The show started with a bang, literally, in a display of fireworks that woulda made the WWE jealous. After announcing all of the riders and how much dirt they brought in (70,000 pounds, I think), the competition started.

It was pretty much what I expected (though I didn't expect to feel bad for the bulls..I swear, gimmee a couple of years, I'll be chaining myself to horses in Central Park, demanding their freedom). Guys riding bulls, bulls trying to buck guys, sometimes successful, sometimes not. We couldn't make heads or tails of the scoring, though apparently there were style points given No apparent injuries, though I'm guessing in twenty years half the riders will be walking with a cane.

The weirdest part was how it ended. The last guy rode and then...that was it. No announcement, no fanfare, no nothing. I wasn't sure it was even over until all the riders came out to sign autographs for fans at floor level.

I was so thrown that I almost forgot to stuff as many cookies into my pockets as possible before leaving.

harris

* btw - The box is equipped with a couple of TV's (presumably in case what we're there for sucks). These TV's look like they're from the '80's. With the amount people pay for those tix, you'd think flat screens would be in order. I'm jus' sayin'.