Ranch-raised in Alberta, Canada, Luke Creasy is a professional bareback rider — he’s also a dad, teacher, artist, and author. And following his return to rodeo in Cave Creek, Arizona, Creasy wrote a moving first-person account of his experience, reflecting on how the Coronavirus pandemic has changed the rodeo environment as well as, after several months of being unable to ride, his newfound appreciation for the sport he loves. Here’s an excerpt from Creasy’s blog, which you can follow here.
Luke is up tonight at the Woodward Elks Rodeo, and all of the action will be broadcast live at 9PM ET.
Cave Creek and COVID-19
I pulled into the Cave Creek rodeo solo, as only essential personnel were supposed to be present. Cash had to stay at my friends the Kirby’s house 10 miles away while I rode. Luckily the rodeo would be live on The Cowboy Channel and he could still see me ride. Normally Cash wouldn’t mind an option like this, but for some reason he really wanted to come to the rodeo when I told him he couldn’t.
They laser scanned my temperature at the parking lot entrance, took the signed waiver I brought with me, and told me where to park. Apparently a ton of people griped about the waivers and some even turned out about it, but I’d been through so much to get back riding I wasn’t about to let a waiver bug me. If I was concerned about the invasive nature of giving personal information I probably wouldn’t have filled out a hundred forms and let Dr. Tandy Freeman cut my knee open last October.
They laser scanned my temperature at the parking lot entrance, took the signed waiver I brought with me, and told me where to park. Apparently a ton of people griped about the waivers and some even turned out about it, but I’d been through so much to get back riding I wasn’t about to let a waiver bug me. If I was concerned about the invasive nature of giving personal information I probably wouldn’t have filled out a hundred forms and let Dr. Tandy Freeman cut my knee open last October.
At first, taping up seemed so weird. As I lay tape layer upon layer over my hairy forearms, I knew that I would be having an after rodeo waxing party. As I always preferred to do, I had one of the sports med people cut the cross-section elastikon so I didn’t fumble or make them come free of the athletic tape base layer while taping myself. When I was finished with the athletic tape covering for my cross section or X I realized that I may have made it too straightened out, and not nearly as resistant to full extension of my arm. So I added some athletic tape over top just to make sure I at least got through my mark out with my chin tucked, assuming the horse bucked.
As we had to have other competing contestants for helpers, per the new COVID rules, I looked around for familiar and trusted faces to help me pull. I saw Isaac Diaz, and though at first I just wanted to say hi, I realized he was as good as anyone to ask for help. ...
With my hand firmly wedged in my riggin’ I inched forward with my pointy red Justin Boots, wedging in between the leaning horse and the bucking chute gate.
They tugged on the horse, “Just move him with your riggin’ and nod,” the flankman said, but as he said that the helpers pulled the horse upright. “That’s him!” The flankman said hurriedly, a hint of annoyance that I hadn’t nodded yet, as I was in fact nodding for the gate while locking all my muscles in brace for explosion position.
In that infinitesimally small time period from nod to horse leaping from the chutes seemed to drag on longer than usual. Part of me screamed not too soon, part of me yelled hurry and stick your spurs up there, and amidst the inner voices was the clarity of the perfect time to send my feet above the shoulders to secure the markout.
The world was a momentary blur, until the first forceful contact with the ground, the metal rowels of my Barstow drop shank spurs tracked up towards my hand then fired back before reaching their goal. A small voice in my head cautioned me to build my ride, to create control amidst the storm, to own the horse, not the other way around.
As I set and drug again Grease Monkey bobbed his head and swooped right, and I was thankful for the controlled drag of my spurs. Through the next few jumps he faded right, staying low to the ground, bobbing his head as he did so. As I had been doing every ride on the bucking machine I focused on the solid stance of my feet when they were pressed into to the front and the squareness of my upper body. As the horse moved forward, and began a circle left I continued to focus on my feet, their strength and speed, as my body flowed in rhythm while still remaining firm.
As Grease Monkey began to squirt away like a greased pig I heard the whistle go, and was thankful for it. As I relented and released my traction to grab a belly hold I felt that oh too familiar panic of a failed hold and before I knew it I was crashing to the earth. My teeth clicked, and I let out a sight of relief to be clear of the horse
Laying flat on my back I threw my hands into the air then hurried to my feet so all watching would know I was fine.
As I got to my feet I remembered how funny I thought it would be to wear my mask as I was finished competing, as we were instructed to do, so I swiftly dawned my mask of monster teeth and jogged back to the chutes, hoping Cash saw me and the mask on TV.
I knew that my horse had not been as rank as I’d hoped, and I knew when they said 77 points that I would not place, but none of that mattered to me, not really. Focus on the process, not the product, was my mantra. I was proud of my process, and though prize money is great, and very desirable, I needed to feel that successful ride and self confidence again more than anything.
I was all grins beneath my mask after my ride, and I was in such a hurry to get my gear off and go share my joy with Cash that I didn’t watch the other riders as intently as I might. Still I watched and cheered on the familiar faces and the not so familiar ones, because in those after ride moments I was happy for them to get to ride again too.
I’m not one to live off the words of others, but it felt good to hear the other riders tell me I had a great spur ride and that I was square and even footed. I soaked up every bit of being at a rodeo again, and then with my gear packed and mask fighting my beard to cover my sweaty face, I sped off to catch up with Cashmoney.
When I arrived at the Kirby residence Cash hugged me and handed me a full page note. I took the note and read it while I took Cash’s mini-Aussie puppy, Valkyrie, for a potty break. In Cash’s note he told me how much he appreciated me, and all the things he thought I did well, and that he disagreed with the judges and would have marked me more. He knew I hadn’t placed and wanted to make me feel better. As I was already feeling awesome, the note warmed my heart and brought my joy to new heights. I came back inside, set down the adorable puppy, and gave Cash another big hug.
I don’t know how much I’ll get to rodeo with the COVID closures and cancellations, but I’m thankful for every opportunity I get, and if there aren’t rodeos to go to, well that’s ok too because my cup runneth over either way.