A man born in a trailer park in the heart of West Texas... growing up around alcoholic parents, a broken home and in the pit of mid-western poverty.
As he aged, every Saturday night at 7:00 clock sharp, the faint sound of a siren one and a half miles away, would spark a revelation and an interest that would eventually lead to his life’s purpose.
The siren, masked by the echo of a deep roar, was the sound of his calling: and that calling was The Rodeo.
Iron walls, layered with dirt floors, and containing beasts that shake the earth when they walk; this was an arena of modern day gladiators. Surrounded by darkness, stadium lights, and a crowd of 50,000 strong waiting to see the competitors fail.
Standing in the corner was this beaten, tattered, and scarred individual. Holes in his boots and clothing, broken spurs, and paint running down his face... appearing only between sets to distract the two horned, 1000 pound, killer and open the gate for the next feat.
Fueled off adrenaline and the constant flow of nicotine, The Rodeo is all he knows. Dedicating his life to potentially being killed by a 4 legged monster, he clears the dirt so the next competitor can attempt his claim at glory.
An afterthought of the event, no one thinks twice to understand who he is or the broken background he came from. Fearless and never backing down... he takes the bull and the arena head on in a never ending collision course, so everyone else can have their 8 seconds of fame.
He fuels and feeds his desires off the pulse the crowds roar creates; only to open the starting gate one more time to release the bull...
Welcome to the Iron Rodeo, where each bar layered with iron becomes the bull with two horns and 1000 pounds of wrath.
Long live The Rodeo Clown. The one who risks it all for the others to achieve greatness.
#IRONRODEO