XL Cover Story: South by Wild West

With the Star of Texas Fair and Rodeo nearing, Central Texas rodeo greats explain why if you're not winning, you're losing

  » A Rodeo Lingo Primer

Central Texas Rodeo Legends Photo by Ralph Barrera/AA-S

Kappy Allen / Barrel racer An Austin lawyer and mother of two, barrel racer Kappy Allen began competing at the pro level in 1998 and snagged the 2000 world championship at the Wrangler National Finals Rodeo, the 'Super Bowl' of rodeo. Allen, who will compete in Rodeo Austin this year, continues a family tradition: Her father, Grady Allen, from El Campo, was one of the few left-handed pro calf ropers to qualify for the National Finals Rodeo in the late 1950s and early '60s.

Photo by Sung Park/AA-S Sid Steiner / Steer wrestler Bobby Steiner / Bull rider Son Sid, left and father Bobby Steiner, of Austin, each boast world championship buckles. Sid won the 2002 steer wrestling title at the Wrangler National Finals Rodeo, and Bobby won the 1973 world championship in bull riding. Both are retired and married to women who have been NFR competitors (Bobby's wife, Joleen, and Sid's wife, Jamie). Bobby's father, Tommy, is in the Cowboy Hall of Fame and the Rodeo Hall of Fame. And Steiner patriarch T.C. 'Buck' Steiner — Tommy's father and founder of Capitol Saddlery — was a pioneering figure in modern rodeo who rode with Wild Bill Elliott and Annie Oakley.

Photo by Andrew Loehman for AA-S Larry Clayman / Rodeo clown Retired bullfighter Larry Clayman has seen and done it all. He 'played' a bullfighter (the brave souls who distract the bull after a rider has fallen or finished) in the movie 'J.W. Coop' and has been featured on 'ABC's Wide World of Sports,' as well as on 'Streets of San Francisco.' A third-generation rodeo clown, Clayman, of Georgetown, clowned professionally for about 20 years, and during that time he hit rodeos in 45 states, five Canadian provinces and three European countries. For 15 of his 20 years, his sidekick, a chimp named Todo, made the circuits with him. Facing down angry bulls wasn't an easy life, he recalls. 'You're hurt all the time, but that was just part of the deal. I loved the bullfighting.' These days Clayman, a lifelong animal trainer, likes kicking around the spread with his family and horses. 'I'm just enjoying life now.'

Photo by Larry Kolvoord/AA-S Mark Swingler / Rodeo clown Mark Swingler has been a pro rodeo barrel man ('man in the can') since 1993, and before that, he was a bullfighter clown. The Austinite has performed in hundreds of rodeos over the past 17 years, including all the biggies — Las Vegas, Houston, Denver, Pocatello, Idaho. For the past two years, he has been nominated for the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association's 'Clown of the Year' award — indicative of the fact that Swingler takes his pratfalls, which involve motorcycles or a 1928 Model T, very seriously. One thing he loves about rodeo is the diversity of elements. 'When you go to a football game or a baseball game,' he says, 'you see only one thing. At the rodeo, you see seven sports, several specialty acts and a heck of a good opening show.'

Photo by Sung Park/AA-S Leon Coffee / Rodeo clown Leon Coffee, of Blanco, is one of the best-loved clowns in the pro rodeo business. A barrel man, he's worked the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas five times, has been nominated for the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association 'Clown of the Year' award several times and received the honor in 1983. Formerly a 'bullfighter,' he's been in the association since 1973 and has appeared in several films, including '8 Seconds' and 'My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys.' Coffee comes from a line of farrier and horse-training folk, and when he's not in the arena, he shoes and trains horses.

Photo by Larry Kolvoord/AA-S Speed Williams & Rich Skelton / Team ropers A record-setting partnership in team roping, Speed Williams (left) and Rich Skelton, both of Llano, joined forces in 1996 and have since won eight consecutive world championships (1996-2004) — an achievement that no other team roping duo can claim. Says Williams, whose father trained horses, 'The story is, I had a piggin' string in my hand before I could walk. I'd rope people's feet when they walked by.' Williams and Skelton will compete next week in Rodeo Austin.

STAR OF TEXAS FAIR AND RODEO Texas Star Trail Ride: 3 p.m. Friday, Gillespie Country Fairgrounds, Fredericksburg Cowboy Breakfast: 6 to 9 a.m. March 11, Auditorium Shores Sunrise Stampede and Rodeo Rumble: 8 a.m. March 12, Travis County Expo Center, 7311 Decker Lane Chuck Wagon Cook-Off: 9 a.m. to noon March 12, TCEC Barbecue Cook-Off: All day, March 18-20, TCEC Rodeo with entertainment acts: 7 p.m. March 12-26, Tuesdays through Sundays, TCEC Fair: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily, March 12-26, TCEC Information: 919-3000; www.rodeoaustin.com

But it's pro rodeo and it's Wild West and it's undeniably eight of the most exciting clock ticks in sportsdom, when man and bull come bustin' from a chute, a blur of leather and fur and flesh spinning and bucking in rip-snorting rhythm, locked in a battle of wills. Those eight seconds become an eternity for a cowboy, whose hand is tethered to his opponent in a "suicide wrap." During that endless fraction of a minute, life and death hang in the balance for the rider, not just literally but financially.

For all pro rodeoers, in fact — be they bull riders or barrel racers — there is a do-or-die truism: "If you're not winning at rodeo, you're losing."

Sid Steiner, 30, ought to know. He played the game as hard and big as it gets, wrestling steers and winning the 2002 world championship before retiring to his Austin ranch.

"That's why winning feels so good, and losing sucks so bad," the tattooed, pierced "Sid Rock" says, echoing the sentiments of many Central Texas rodeo stars.

So it goes for all pro cowboys and cowgirls who travel the country year-round, competing almost every week, gunning for the trophy buckles and big added-money at the Wrangler National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas or the Dodge National Circuit Finals in Pocatello, Idaho.

Some will also compete at Austin's Star of Texas Fair and Rodeo, which produces Rodeo Austin and begins this week with an annual trail ride, then climaxes mid-March with prime entertainment nights.

So whether saddle-bronc riding, bareback riding, steer wrestling, team roping, barrel racing, bull riding or tie-down roping, it will be the same story for pro rodeoers: You don't win in this business, you don't make a living. And if you don't make a living, well then, maybe you're a "weekend warrior." Either way — full-timer or weekend warrior — high-stakes rodeo isn't just a sport or a profession for them; it's a way of living.

Most Central Texans rodeo once a year. These guys rodeo all year long.

Lone Star rodeo stars

Nowhere is this truer than in Texas. Sure, states such as Montana, Wyoming, Oklahoma, New Mexico and other western brethren are part of the bronc busting, big-sky zeitgeist, but the roots of rodeo — from the Spanish "rodear," meaning "to encircle" — are buried deep in the soil of Texas' cattle ranches. And before that, they were seeded in the rolling hills and cactus-laced pastures of Mexico.

Rural Texas is and always has been rodeo terrain, and, surprisingly to some, Central Texas has produced an inordinate number of nationally ranked competitors, world champions and Rodeo Hall of Famers. Consider "old-timers" Stanley and Wanda Bush and legendary rodeo announcer Tom Hadley, who have ranches outside Mason, near Llano; or the late great Bill Pickett, the Williamson County native who invented bulldogging (aka steer wrestling) in 1903 and was the first African American inducted into the Rodeo Hall of Fame.

In the Austin area, four generations of Steiners have produced Cowboy Hall of Famer T.C. "Buck" Steiner, Rodeo (and Cowboy) Hall of Famer Tommy Steiner and two world champions — Bobby, who took the 1973 title for bull riding, and his son Sid. From southeast of Austin come world-ranked barrel racers Jackie Dube of Giddings and Tammy Key of Ledbetter — siblings whose parents raise and train racehorses. Llano claims roper Tee Woolman, who has three world championship buckles, and Speed Williams and Rich Skelton, the record-breaking duo who've won eight world titles in team roping. Lakeway is home to Kappy Allen, the 2000 world champ barrel racer.

And that's the short list.

Many of the Central Texas greats who still compete at those levels (and others from far, far away) will turn up at the Star of Texas event, which, according to the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association, is one of the top four Texas Circuit rodeos. Unbeknownst to locals who mostly follow the city's stampede of film, music, theater and interactive events each year, Rodeo Austin is 18th among 700 association rodeos for payouts, and "is the fastest growing rodeo and stock show in North America," says Rodeo Austin's general manager, Bucky Lamb. "A recent study showed that our economic impact is around $45 million a year, and we'll raise and award $1.3 million to Texas youth this year."

Given Central Texas' history of producing champion ropers, riders and wrestlers, it seems fitting that Rodeo Austin's star is on the rise. But when you get down to it, true cowfolk love all rodeos — just the idea of rodeo, the places they go and the people they meet, the roar of the crowd, the rush of the ride.

As Tee Woolman put it, laconically, poetically: "It's a cowboy's life."

Keeping their day jobs

"It started from ranch chores; our ancestors did these things for a living," says Bobby Steiner, son of Tommy and grandson of Buck (a pioneer of modern-day rodeo.) "And to tell you the truth, rodeo is still the same sport. It really hasn't changed that much, other than that there's more talent and more people are involved, and more money."

And how: Top rodeoers can make between $150,000 and $220,000 a year.

As a spectator sport, rodeo evolved from the late 1800s and Buffalo Bill Cody's Wild West Shows. But well before that, neighboring ranch owners in the States and Mexico would bring their cowboys together to see who could best the other.

"Bronc riding and roping were probably the first things," says Bobby Steiner, adding that those are necessary skills for any good cowboy. "I don't know who decided, 'Well, let's jump off on this one's head,' or who was (dumb) enough to say let's put a rope around this one's head and try to wrestle him to the ground for fun! They had to'a been very, very bored — and probably drunk. Who would say, 'Let's jump off this horse and grab this steer by the horns and see who can throw him down first?' "

Of course, that's what "they" did. And they are the pro cowboys (and cowgirls) of today. Only, "pro" in rodeo culture is a murky term.

As insiders explain it, anyone 18 or older can buy a permit to compete in rodeo, and anyone with the proper determination and skill can qualify for a rodeo cowboys association card (must have $1,000 in winnings on their permit). Even permit holders can compete in one of the 12 regional circuits nearest their places of residence — and advance further if they're extremely good — but to make it into high-stakes rodeo, the cowboy must have a certain level of career earnings. And so the vast majority of association cardholders don't make a living rodeoing. As few as 20 percent actually support their families and survive off the sport, and those who do often spend 200-plus days a year on the road. Those are the full-timers, the "real" pros. The weekend warriors — pros with regular jobs — are usually circuit cowboys and girls who rarely have time (thus, the super-honed skill) to advance beyond their regions. Which is not to say that pros with "day jobs" aren't very serious about their rodeoing.

Barrel racer Kappy Allen, an Austin lawyer, claimed the world championship buckle at the Wrangler National Finals — the world championship rodeo — in 2000. But Allen is a rare breed, and was able to make the time, and the added-money wins, necessary to qualify for the big rarefied arenas.

"I more or less grew up in the country riding," Allen says. "My dad rodeoed (Grady Allen was one of the few left-handed calf-ropers to make the National Finals Rodeo in Vegas), but I did it on a secondary level for years and years. Then I decided it was time. I turned 40 driving from Augusta, Fla., to Kansas City to begin my professional career." Within a year, she'd won the world title. These days, because of injuries to her horse, Risky Chris, and herself, she has to pick and choose where she competes. But Allen, whose career winnings exceed $400,000, vows to keep running the cloverleafs. "We're not going to let ourselves get forgotten."

Rodeo is in her blood.

Likewise for Tee Woolman, whose grandfather had a farm in Oklahoma, where the smell of hay and livestock first bewitched him.

"I won my first buckle when I was 10 years old — 40-something years ago," says the unassuming cowboy star. "It's just an occupation I chose to make a living. And if you're good at it, you can get paid to do it. Hopefully." In reality, Woolman doesn't have to hope too terribly much: His career earnings top $2.1 million, and he's still in the top roping ranks.

Success wasn't handed to him on a platter, though. As he points out, a full-time cowboy or cowgirl has to have a slew of self-discipline, dedication and confidence to survive in such a risky business. "All the world champs live and breathe rodeo ... It's a tough sport. It's not for the weak of heart," he quips.

"The guys who are professional cowboys aren't afraid to leave home and stick it out on the line," adds Sid Steiner. "There are a lot of people that say, ' woulda, coulda, shoulda,' but the pros say, 'I'm going to put my keister where my mouth is.' "

Steiner the younger did just that — and won the world championship at age 28. Then he retired. Didn't like being away from home so much.

The road goes on forever

But traveling is an intrinsic part of the cowboy's life, which may be why rodeoers are a different sort of animal. The myth about the loner cowboy tends to hold true among this crew. Yet, rodeoers are also part of a roving national community, a sort of extended family with branches and offshoots all over the country.

"Most (of the rodeo set) are friends or friends of family," says Woolman. "But they still compete against one another. If someone's in a bind and needs something, the cowboys are the first ones there to help 'em out and get 'em down the road. Cowboys are a special bunch of people, and they're closely bonded together."

Sid Steiner, ever the upstart cow-guy, slightly disagrees: "There's a lot of respect among us; I don't know about a bond. It's just like anything else — everybody's different. On a football team, there's people you identify with and there's people you don't identify with."

Eight-time world champ team roper Speed Williams says if there is one thing that binds the national rodeo community — whether full-time pros or serious weekend warriors — it's a strong work ethic. "It's your dedication of practice. There's people that do it on the weekends that have jobs and maybe don't want to travel, and there's people that do it all year long and try to make the finals. But to be successful in any sport, you have to dedicate time and practice."

Another link between rodeoers, besides a love of horses and things ranchy, is that, by and large, it's a solitary sport. And as with any solitary sport, the athlete has to be extremely self-directed. Rodeo has the allure of allowing you to be your own boss.

"You don't look to a whole lot of people other than yourself to realize what you need to do, but then you don't have anybody to blame either," says Bobby Steiner. "But you can always find someone to celebrate with. All you gotta do is buy the beer."

That is, if you can afford to spring for the tall-boys. Whether it's beer or friends or a mortgage that inspires the rodeoer, he's gotta win to stay in the game, period. "You go to a football game and tell those guys, 'You don't win, you don't get paid,' and I tell you what, that's going to be one good football game," says Mark Swingler, a nationally known rodeo clown (a barrel man, or "man in the can") who lives in Austin.

Catching the magic

The biggie, most rodeoers say, is the rush, pure and simple. The nearness of danger and the quickening of nerves that come with being in the middle of a packed arena, with a powerful animal beneath you, friend or foe. You could die (possibly). You could be deified (possibly). And always beyond those possibilities is the thought, the hope, the dream, of winning it all.

"Certainly the title that everyone wants to win is the world title. And when things go good enough and you're lucky enough to have that happen, you look back and realize that it didn't have to happen that way," says Bobby Steiner. "I mean you can throw your hands in the air and holler, 'I am the greatest,' but there are lots of other people that are talented enough to be in the same situation as you," he says. "Some people have that opportunity and some don't, and when your time comes and the light hits you, you have to catch the magic, you can't be scared to catch it."

Conversely, it's important to realize that rodeo can't last forever, even for the top-notch cowboys who live the never-ending rodeo life. And perhaps more than any other danger — besides the obvious physical risks — the trick is to get out while the getting's good. "Know when to get out of the arena," the elder Steiner says. "You gotta do it while you're talented, and then get out while you're able to do something else. . . . Rodeo is like being in the wildest fraternity in college — you don't really want to graduate. It's got that rush, and it's hard to fill that rush with anything else."

For old-timers like cutting horse legend Stanley Bush, who along with his wife, Wanda, is considered rodeo royalty, that fraternity is a sustaining force. Not so much a wild force of nature but a thing that outshines even a cowboy's headiest moments in the arena lights.

"One of the best things, of course, is the winning," Bush says. "But I guess when you really get down to it, it's your friends in rodeo. You might not remember how much money you won or where you were, but you can remember your friends that were there."