I am not a hard person to understand. As soon as a person has a conversation with me, they will know at least three things: I love sports, I love purple, and my name is Corie Sue. They will probably be in that order. But there is a lot to me that people won’t see right off the bat.
I guess I can say that I am like Shrek, when he said that he was like an onion (which is weird ’cause I despise onions with a passion) with a lot of layers. Once people get to know me a little bit, they will see how much time I spend with my family. I play the piano (which is not something I broadcast and can’t believe I am having it get published). I love Justin Bieber and Hannah Montana. I am obsessed with good-looking boys. That is another layer.
When a person pulls back the layer about my past, they will see something that is a little surprising. The 24th of July in Ogden always brings out that part of my past to my present.
When I was younger, between the ages of 3 and 8, my parents would cart my two older brothers and me all over the western United States to amateur and professional rodeos. Yeah, I just said rodeos.
We had some really good family friends that were bull-riders and barrel-racers. We followed them around to whatever rodeo was going on that weekend. I wouldn’t call myself a cowgirl now, but back then, I could have easily taken that stereotype upon myself.
This past weekend has been the Ogden Pioneer Days Rodeo. I try to make it to at least one night of the rodeos, because it always brings back those awesome memories of my youth.
Rodeos are a culture all their own. They have all the cowboys and cowgirls who roam around. Everyone is wearing cowboy boots and hats, wranglers, button-up shirts, and a belt buckle (the bigger the belt buckle, the better).
The people who participate in rodeo events are straight-up the bravest athletes in the world. I mean, look at the bull-riders. Don’t judge them because they only have to stay on a bull for eight seconds. They use every muscle in their bodies to stay on the animal so they don’t get stomped to death or speared by their horns. I would like to see the quarterback of any football team take on an angry beast that weighs 1,000 pounds of muscle with not one ounce of fat on it.
Bareback and bronco-riders are in a very similar boat. They have to stay on a raging horse that could stomp them to death as well. I have ridden a horse before, but there is no way I could ride a horse at a dead sprint while trying to rope a calf’s back legs or head. I could also never race in the barrel races, because those girls are straight-up amazing.
I love rodeos. I love watching these athletes conquer their amazing elements. The horses they ride are magnificent athletes. The cowboys are easy on the eyes. The conversations are fun and carefree. I am super-disappointed I wasn’t able to watch any night of the Ogden Pioneer Days Rodeo this year (I was camping; it was a good time, but it was not my rodeo). I can’t wait for the next one to come around.
Everyone should go to a rodeo at least once in their life. Enjoy it, but be warned: I have heard the smell is awful. But don’t let that stop you from going. It’s a good time for the whole family.