There’s lots been said about the Cowboys
And all the money they have won,
But not much is said about the rough stock
That helped to make them number one.
When the rodeo is over
And the pay-off finally done,
The Cowboy he can go
And have a little fun.
Or maybe he’s going to another rodeo
In his air-conditioned car
Or just enjoying life
At the local bar.
No matter what he’s doing,
Or if he’s drinking rye and Coke,
You can bet the rough stock is somewhere in a liner
Breathing diesel smoke.
They talk about a Cowboy’s heart
And how much try he’s got,
But the rough stock has some, too,
Or so I’ve always thought.
A Cowboy can’t be a champion
If it’s left entirely up to him.
He has to be well-mounted
If he wants a chance to win.
So give the rough stock some credit,
They have quite a load to pack.
When they buck they have a Cowboy
And all the fans upon their back.
For when the chute gate opens
And the rough stock turns the crank,
About the only one who pulls for them
Is the man who jerks the flank.
Rough Stock excerpted from Listen To Her Rodeo, Poems of an Alberta Cowboy by Doug Richards