Learning the ropes at my first rodeo
Daly City might be just a hop over a hill from ultramodern San Francisco, but when the Grand National Rodeo comes to the Cow Palace every year, it’s transformed into another world — one with cowgirls, prize tomatoes and award-winning pigs. I’d seen the billboards along the freeway for decades and finally decided to grab the bull by the horns and go. The experience was both everything I expected and a complete surprise.
The first Grand National Livestock Expo, Horse Show and Rodeo was held at the Cow Palace in 1941 and, except in the case of war, it’s been taking place ever since. Although the venue has been home to performances by Prince and Kiss, the whole point of the Cow Palace is livestock and rodeo — a culture that we rarely see ’round these parts.
I entered enthused and was immediately met by a deadpan woman at the box office with a bouffant hairdo. She was chewing on a toothpick, and I immediately loved her.
The rodeo events in the Grand National Livestock Exposition, Horse Show and Rodeo are just part of the festivities. There are livestock and produce awards, home cookin’, beef jerky stands, artwork displays, numerous contests, and lots of Western wear for sale. I bought a $20 cowboy hat and entered a drawing to win a Dodge Ram truck. The gentleman manning the truck giveaway asked me what I’d use a Dodge Ram for and, suddenly stumped, I blurted out that my husband could use it to tow a boat. (We do not own a boat.)
Before the 7:30 show, we wandered through a maze of horse stables, attempting to stay out of the way as cowboys and cowgirls readied their steeds. One sweet animal seemed to call me over with kind brown eyes. His name was Norman, and his owner, 20-yearold Alexandra Farly, was busy preparing to take part in the night’s Arabian Native Costume presentation. Basically, each rodeo event is bookended with some sort of entertainment piece, like a collection of trained Clydesdales pulling a wagonful of the Cow Palace board of directors or a galloping collection of cowgirl beauty queens.
Farly was there with the Diablo Arabian Horse Association, hoping to raise the profile of the breed and also, I suspected, because she finds it really fun. A trainer and breeder, Farly has been around horses all of her life. Her family owns eight of them, and Farly teaches horseback lessons in the East Bay.
“This is only Norman’s third time dressed up like this,” Farly said, showing off the bright turquoise sequin costumes she and her horse would wear. “One hopes for the best,” she added with a grin.
The rodeo began with great fanfare and darkened lights for a dramatic tribute to police officers and firefighters, followed by the national anthem. The rodeo’s announcer, a confident young Texan named Anthony Lucia, informed everyone that despite recent concerns over freedom of speech, he was going to ask us all to stand and “raise your voices to the heavens in song.”
This was clearly a thinly veiled reference to professional athletes taking a knee for the national anthem. I looked around for a reaction from the crowd and found none.
Most of the rodeo events were for male competitors. They rode bucking broncos or tried to wrestle bulls to the ground as fast as possible. I wondered, “Is this hurting the bull? Must we tie a calf up in the dirt?” Rodeos, like most events that involve animals, are controversial. I justified watching — and watching with interest — because the skills these cowboys were displaying are a very real part of cattle ranching.
Cowgirls, by contrast, competed in only one event: barrel racing. On horseback, powerful women raced around three big barrels as fast as they could. I was out of my seat, cowboy hat askew and tossing kettle corn everywhere, screaming “Go! Go! Go!”
We watched as Farly and Norman emerged for the Arabian exhibition. Yards of bedazzled turquoise fabric flowed as the pair kicked up dirt around the rodeo ring. Other riders were similarly dressed in bright Persian costumes, each beaming like pageant contestants. Lucia asked the audience to applaud for their favorite. Farly and Norman lost.
The dirt was cleared for the next event as a rodeo clown named Dangerous Dave shot T-shirts into the crowd from a cannon. “As my pappy used to say,” Lucia reminisced into his microphone, “a bad day at the rodeo is better than a good day at work.”
The manning giveaway gentleman the asked truck me what I’d use a Dodge Ram for and, suddenly stumped, I blurted out that my husband could use it to tow a boat.