When the ninth annual Youth Bull Riders World Finals kicks off in Abilene, Texas, next week, the Shannon boys will be in the chute.
“We’ve been to Texas before,” explains Curt, 9, as he adjusts his chaps and clambers onto the top rail of a fence at the family’s farm in rural Humboldt on Monday, “but never to Abilene.”
Curt and his brother Creed, 8, qualified for the famed event by accumulating the most points across a series of 16 rodeos over the last year
Curt has been riding for two years, he says. Creed has been at it for half that. “They started off riding sheep,” recalls their mom, Amy. “Mutton-busting — at the Allen County Fair and at small, local youth rodeos. But, in bull riding, it goes by levels. You start with sheep, then calves, then steers, then junior bulls, then regular bulls.”
“You’re just climbing the stairs,” says Curt, who will be riding steers at the world finals. Creed — who admits that sheep are actually “more fun” to ride — is entered in the calf-riding competition.
The Shannons, members of the Christian Youth Rodeo Association, based in Ottawa, will compete against riders from Australia, Brazil, Mexico, Canada and beyond.
But Creed’s not nervous. He says he never gets nervous before an event.
Curt, though, who recently graduated from calves to steers, emits a more thoughtful caution. “Every time I move up a level,” he confesses, “it gives me more nerves.”
The boys, unfailingly cheerful and polite, with wide, matching smiles, are also patient in explaining the sport to an outsider.
Placed on his beast in the narrow metal confines of the bucking chute, the rider — wearing a helmet, chaps, a leather glove, and a protective, gore-proof vest (“It helps keep your innards in,” says Curt.) — grabs hold of the rope.
“It’s called a bull rope,” says Curt. “It wraps around the bull. … You can wrap the rope around your hand or you can just keep it out, like a rope. I usually do the wrap.”
“It helps you hang on better,” says Creed.
As for spurs, both boys wear them when they ride. But not belt buckles. “Because — ugh! — it hits your belly when you lean forward,” explains Creed, demonstrating.
Once you’re secured on the animal, then what?
“Then you nod your head,” says Creed, “and you ride.”
“Yep,” says Curt, “you slide your hand under the rope and you nod and they open the gate and — you go.”
