Richard Maack
Richard Maack
BY: Ed Henderson

THE Little Buckaroos Young Rodeo Stars Find There's More to Sheep Than Shearing

Getting the stick horse under control for the Grand Entry Parade isn't a problem, but the sheep are a lot less cooperative.

In fact, with their black heads bleating and their black legs itching to hammer the ground as the chute door opens, the sheep are downright intimidating.

They're as tall as the four and five year olds riding them.

And the sheep's freshly washed backs make them look more like white clouds hiding a storm than animals.

Holbrook's Navajo County Fair, held during the third week of August, has the usual attractions: amusement rides, the hawkers and the skill games, contests for crops and quilts and everything in between, and the goodies like fry bread and corn dogs.

The fair also features a two-day full-scale rodeo with professional cowboys and animals big enough to be painted yellow and used as highway construction equipment.

But, best of all, the fair has the Little Buckaroos Rodeo. It's an opportunity for the kids to show what they've got.

And so attention turns to a 40-pound youngster sitting on a 300-pound sheep with a stadium full of spectators watching, all waiting for the chute gate to open and the sheep to bolt. This time it's no stick horse he's riding.

Sheep riding isn't the entire rodeo, of course. Six and seven year olds take on calves, while the eight to 12 group rides full-size steers. There are also barrel racing and pole bending which is like putting your horse through a slalom course.

But the sheep riders are the real stars. Watching them, it's clear they're not sure whether to be excited or scared. They

WHEN YOU GO

The Little Buckaroos Rodeo will take place at noon Saturday, August 21, at Holbrook's Navajo County Fairgrounds, Third Street and Hopi just off old Route 66. Admission is included in the fair admission: $2, adults; $1, children.

The fair itself runs Wednesday through Saturday, August 18-21 (there is an adult rodeo with a separate admission at 7:30 P.M. Friday and Saturday).

For information about the rodeo, contact the Navajo County Fair, P.O. Box 309, Holbrook, AZ 86025; (602) 524-6407.

All know, however, they must hang on. The ground's a long way off.

"The sheep don't really buck; it's more like a dead run," says Rusty DeSpain, the rodeo's organizer. Only 19 years old himself, Rusty started the kids' rodeo three years ago. "You see the expressions on their faces just before the gate opens, and then again when they fall off, and it's great. That's what this is all about."

Rusty's also the rodeo announcer, cracking jokes with the clown. He gets the crowd worked into cheering loud enough to drown out the uneasy shuffling of the sheep's hooves just before the gate hinges creak, and they're off.

Six seconds is a record sheep-riding time, but time isn't all that matters. Everything here is the same as in the adult rodeo, just scaled down. Rusty imports judges from around the state. Rides are scored on time and style, as well as on how the sheep itself performs.

Jacob Richardson stays on for six seconds the time it takes for the sheep to run across the pen and hit the fence, where the clown waits to sweep the rider off the critter's woolly back. But the kid is sideways almost the whole time. Good enough. Beating out those who stay vertical, Jacob takes first prize, an ornate silver buckle. His small hands disappear behind it, and 10 people move in on him with their video cameras, capturing his slightly bewildered expression.

For the smallest kids, maybe it's all a little too confusing, but the calf riders are old enough to know the predicament they're in. And the calves are the hardest to ride. A rider is only one step out of the chute when his hat flies off.

Next step, the rider falls off.

There's only one girl entered in the event, and she takes second place. "Hardly couldn't see," says Brook Solomon. "It was too fast."

And her five-second ride is barely over before her mother whisks her away to get ready to participate in the clogging. Mom shakes her head, says, "I just sat up there and closed my eyes."

The Buckaroo mothers have more to worry about when the older boys get up there for the next event: steer riding. The nine boys are the rodeo pros of the future, basking in their Old West heritage as they climb aboard the glow-ering black steers with a kind of disdain for the ton of animal beneath them. Check the ropes, pull them snug.

Glove tight on the left hand. Some last-minute advice from the animal handlers surrounding the chute.

"Right now!" yells Joe Bob DeWitt, one of the last riders. The gate opens, the steer runs, throwing and bucking, but Joe Bob is with it the whole way. There's enough animal muscle here to crash the fence, but the clown guides the steer around, and Joe Bob who takes second place jumps off, looking like he's already impatient for next year's Little Buckaroos Rodeo. Or maybe more impatient for the time when he can join the real thing.