This poem chronicles the ups and downs of competing for rookies – the giant range of emotions before a reining run and after.
Please let me in; I can’t wait all day
Open the gate, then get out of my way.
We’ve practiced for months and my horse is just right.
I’m ready, too, and this is our night.
Just look at my saddle and headstall to match
And I’ve saved for months for this something-X hat
They’re calling my name. Odd, my throat just got dry.
And one of my stirrups is cramping my thigh.
My heart’s beating fast; I’m not ready at all.
I think I left something back there at my stall.
I should go to the john one more time, too, I think
And now, I can’t breathe; I need something to drink.
My trainer is frowning and coming this way.
So I head for the pen, and mostly, I pray.
I walk to the center, eye that judge, going in.
Hey, someone is clapping. Maybe I’ll win!
I pick up the reins and cue him real nice.
But my horse is a statue, frozen like ice.
So I poke with my spur and he jumps with a start.
But it’s forward, not sideways. He’s coming apart!
I ask him again and he does start to spin
Four and “whoa … whoa … whoa … oops!”
I’ve lost him again.
Do you think that the judges will show in their score
That we spun sixteen times and could have done more?
Perhaps I can fake it and salvage this night.
So I cue for a lope, and we trot off real quiet.
He finally lopes – and there’s no more disaster.
But why in the world does he keep getting faster?
The people are cheering; they think I’m OK.
But I can’t stop this sucker; he’s running away!
Tears whip down my cheeks because of the wind
I grab, but I miss, and my hat hits the pen.
So I made it. My very first ride undertaking.
Walking out of the pen I find I’m still shaking.
At least I’m a reiner who’s shown in a show.
Though I remember some bobbles in my debut go.
How will I face my trainer, my friends?
They were watching from home to see how I did.
And what about Sally, the mean girl in our barn?
Did I beat her? I missed hearing my score.
Oh darn!
The gateman hands me my hat with a nod.
My heart slows to normal; there’s something so odd.
‘Cause I no longer remember what happened out there.
I recollect going out but I’m just blank – I swear.
I guess I was good, like in the warmup pen
I’ll watch video, later, get the details then.
It will likely all come back to me.
I sit up in the saddle, excited and free.
For now, I should wait near the in-gate and see
Who needs advice from an expert like me.
By Cheryl Cody