“The Best Straw Hat I Ever Had!”

April 15, 2015April 16, 2015 / Andy R Taylor / 5 Comments

One of the things we’d do every year at the Houston Astrodome Rodeo was go to the American Hat Factory and pick us out a good straw hat for the summer. Bill George, a great rodeo hand from the previous generation, was from Canadian, Texas (where we were from), and he’d look me and Mont (my brother) up every year we were at the Astrodome. We’d have a beer or two and an enjoyable visit. Bill and his wife owned The American Hat Co. there in Houston.

I was traveling with Russ Baize this particular year and as usual we went out to the factory to pick us out a hat. Oh, and we’d get a heck of a deal on those hats too. Of course it’s been some years since we did that but we were buying good straw hats for $6 that’ll now cost you near $100! I picked through about 20 of the Bangora style and found the best straw hat of the bunch. Russ did the same. I creased mine just right and, dang it looked good! To this day it was the best straw hat I ever had!

We left Houston to ride in Montgomery, AL. Tommy Sheffield, a rodeo clown and bullfighter, and good friend, had an act back in those days where he’d buy a real cheap little hat of some kind and put it on a committee man. His act was about ‘cleaning’ the hat. Of course it was all staged (*usually…but not this night!). The committee man would act like he was mad and he’d chase Tommy around the arena and finally give up the chase. Then Tommy would place the hat on his ‘hat cleaner’; long story short he’d push the lever and a huge explosion would blow the hat up!

Well, I thought….you know it’d be really, really funny if I could get Russ out there in front of the chutes when Tommy did his act and let Tommy get Russ’s new straw hat! I’d already set it up with Tommy. I didn’t think I was going to get it done but just in the nick of time I lured Russ out in front of the chutes as the act started. Coliseum lights were all off and the spotlight was on Tommy, as usual. I’m talking to Russ and his back is turned away from Tommy sneaking up on him. Well, Tommy grabbed Russ’s new hat and took off! Now it’s on!! No! I mean it’s REALLY ON! Russ is NOT faking….he’s as mad as he can possibly be, still in the spotlight chasing Tommy and cussing as loud as he can! All the cowboys are now watching and laughing uncontrollably, as well as the five or six thousand spectators! He finally gave up the chase and just like always Tommy put the hat on his hat cleaner and just like always, BOOM!! Russ’s new hat literally hit the ceiling of the Montgomery, Alabama coliseum, then landed back on the arena floor in about 6 pieces! Russ was threatening to whip me, Tommy and anyone else he could think of. It was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen!

He cooled off a little….but not much! We rode that night and headed for San Angelo, TX, five of us in my Delta 88 Oldsmobile; Russ, myself, Jack Ward, Jess Knight and John Gloor. We pulled over late in the night to change drivers and took off again. We’d got down the road a few miles and I started looking for my hat; nowhere to be found. I started asking questions only to find out that when we stopped Russ had put my brand new hat right in front of the back tire and peeled out on it when he took off! Well, now I’m the one that’s mad!! I’m telling him to pull over cause I’m fixin’ to whoop his butt! We got out, talked a little trash, cussed each other a little bit then got back in and headed for Angelo! We’re still great friends to this day! That’s the story of “The Best Straw Hat I Ever Had”!

Branson to Cherokee – The Longest Night I Ever Spent

March 6, 2015January 23, 2022 / Andy R Taylor / 13 Comments

The year was 1979. The rodeo season was in full swing. Denny Flynn and I were traveling together and we were both having a successful season so far. We were to ride in Branson, Missouri and leave immediately to head for Cherokee, Iowa where we’d ride the next afternoon.

As soon as we arrived in Branson I saw my good friend Roy Carter. The first thing out of his mouth was the devastating news that our friend Mick Whitely from Halfway, Oregon had been killed the night before in Inglewood, California. A bull had stepped in his chest with both feet and he died before he got to the hospital. Mick was a close friend; just a few weeks earlier he, Wacey Cathey and myself had spent nearly a week in the same hotel room in Edmonton, Alberta. How was I to know it would be the last time I’d see Mick?

But that wasn’t the end of the bad news in Branson that night. Brian Claypool, Gary ‘Moon’ Logan, Calvin Bunney and Lee Coleman, all Canadians, had left Cloverdale, BC in Brian’s private plane on their way to Las Vegas. After clearing customs in Salem, Oregon they were never heard from again. After an all-out intensive search no evidence of the guys or the plane was found. In fact, it was later in the year during hunting season that hunters happened on to the wreckage.

I didn’t know Bunney or Coleman; they were young and just starting their professional rodeo careers. But Brian Claypool was a great friend. We’d become friends soon after I cracked out in ’72. He was a great bull and bronc rider…one of the best, and the ‘fittest’ guy I ever knew. Gary Logan, or ‘Moon’ as we all called him, was also a good friend and great bareback rider. Just two weeks before there were two carloads of us staying at our ranch in Allison, Texas. The last day before we all left and went different ways Gary and I were working on a new pair of spurs of mine. Looking back it was a great day, always lots of laughs with Moon. It would be the last time I’d ever see him.

There’s an incredible camaraderie in the rodeo world, more like a brotherhood! It wasn’t just that we’d lost some friends, we’d lost family! Denny and I headed out for Cherokee. I’m not ashamed to say I shed a lot of tears that night. We stopped at a truck stop somewhere and I called Julie…just to hear her voice. I called my dad hoping that he’d say something to make me feel better. I didn’t want to go to Cherokee, I didn’t care anything about riding bulls. I just wanted to go home…but we were already committed. I guess in a lot of ways I grew up some that night.

My traveling partner and best friend Denny Flynn and I talked a lot about the guys, and a lot about life that night. We both had our turn at driving but I don’t think either one of us slept a wink. We rolled into Cherokee, not very fresh and not thinking much about bull riding. It was the longest night I ever spent.

Click this link to hear a song written about this by one of our rodeo friends, Ivan Daines:

VIP #1 Booger Bryant

February 6, 2015October 20, 2020 / Andy R Taylor / 14 Comments

Well, for starters, just the name “Booger” gets your attention, right!? Booger Bryant could be described in a lot of ways; Cowboy, Bull Rider, Bull Rope Maker, Believer…..A Man’s-Man! Booger lived in Hagerman, New Mexico, not far from Roswell. He was probably 8-10 years older than me when I started my professional rodeo career at 18. Back in those days when you were a ‘rookie’ and just starting out most of the older, seasoned cowboys wouldn’t talk to you until you had ‘paid your dues’ and proven yourself. But Booger wasn’t that way at all, at least with me.There’s no telling how tough Booger really was but he didn’t try at all to push that persona. But you could obviously tell that he wouldn’t get pushed around by anyone.

In the mid to late ’70’s there was a surge of Christianity through professional rodeo. And as it often happens with people who first experience salvation, there was a lot more zeal than common sense displayed by a lot of these rodeo people. Many of them were in-your-face with it; they meant well but to be honest it turned me off and I avoided most of them the best I could. I’d gotten saved in a countywide crusade in Wheeler, Texas in 1974, but I pretty much kept it to myself and wasn’t doing a very good job of living it out.

But, Booger Bryant was different than the others. I knew he was a Christian, but it was different, I wanted to be around him. We had quite a few visits about the Lord. He hardly ever initiated them, it was mostly me. I knew he’d be ‘straight-up’ with me; I knew he wouldn’t be pushy about it; he didn’t have some subtle agenda like the rest of them. I knew I could trust him. He knew I wasn’t doing a good job of walking it out but he never, ever mentioned it. He stood his ground between the over-zealous believers and the hard-ass, old-school cowboys who didn’t want any of it, and would dang sure tell you about it if they needed to!

He got cancer but never complained about it; he’d just say he was trusting the Lord with it. He fought the good fight for sure but finally went to his reward. He left behind his wife, Bonnie and a little boy, Blu. He made my bull ropes for several years, he was always a trusted friend, kinda like a big brother I didn’t have. But most of all he showed me what a ‘real’ Christian ought to be like and his impact on my life was deep, even though I didn’t know it at the time.

I never got the chance to talk to Booger after my life had really ‘made the turn’ in ’84, he was already gone. But I did get the chance in the mid-’90’s to tell his son, Blu, who was leading the world bull riding standings at the time, how much I admired him and how much of an impact his dad had on my life. It felt pretty good!

I’ll forever be grateful to Booger Bryant for helping to show me the Way!