Bullheaded

come out here just to look at a few youngsters. What did you want to say to me?” Cody knew he deserved whatever anyone wanted to say to him. His mother’s words from the night before were coming back to him, and he felt ashamed of how selfish he’d come across, even with the best of motives.
    “You were riding great before the break, Cody. Now you’re in a truly impressive slump. Statistically speaking, I’m not sure I’ve seen a worse one. I don’t think it’s physical. You’re not a weak man. It’s something mental. You can ride so much better than this. You know how.”
    “You don’t know what the problem is.”
    “True, but if you do, you better fix it if you want that gold buckle as much as I think you do. You were on track to win it all. Now….” Sam shook his head.
    “You think I can win?”
    “I’ve learned never to predict anything in this sport, but I’m rooting for you, son. One of the most talented riders I’ve ever seen.”
    “Maybe I used to be,” Cody said bitterly.
    “Man doesn’t forget from one day to the next how to do something he loves. If you can’t balance on the back of a bull, then something’s not in balance in your life. You know how to pull out a win from a ride going south. Seen you do it before. You make the moves on a bull and you hang on like falling off is not an option. Works the same in life. Face whatever problem’s holding you back, make the changes you need to, and get on with it.”
    “Sounds so simple.”
    “Doesn’t it?” Sam flashed him a grin. “Lots of times it is, when you get right down to it. It’s running away that sucks all the energy out of a man.”
    Cody held his hand out. “Thanks, Sam, for coming out here and talking some sense into an idiot.”
    “Anytime, Cody. Now you go on and win that gold buckle, hear?”
    Cody watched the truck as Sam drove away. Everyone was full of good advice and it seemed they were all telling him the same thing. Maybe they were right.

    C ODY cancelled the rest of his exhibition appearances thinking maybe if he stayed home and got settled down, the slump would work itself out. Or maybe he just wasn’t ready to face Johnny yet. He knew there would be a nice slice of humble pie involved. He hoped he’d be back to his usual form when the season started again.
    He wasn’t. He and Dub had rounded up a few practice bulls at a ranch outside Detroit. He fell off the first practice bull he rode before the event, and it didn’t get better after that. He never did get a good seat. He was tossed around, lost his rope, and shot up in the air, spun around, and then came down again on the bull’s back, but facing the rear. The bull took one more jump and Cody fell off and landed right on his face.
    “Well, that must have been a different view,” Dub announced. “Taking time off like you did sure didn’t help you any.”
    “Thanks. I never would have figured that out on my own,” Cody said, his voice sour with disgust. He pawed at his face to get rid of the dust.
    “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
    “I lost some—thing important to me.”
    “Hey, we all get older, you know? You gotta let go someday.”
    Cody stared at him. “You saying I’m over the hill?”
    “Not yet. But it happens to us all. This is a young man’s game. Easier to heal up when you’re young. I’m even beginning to rack up the aches and pains, but I’ve just been hanging in there waiting for you to retire so I could go out on top in one good year. You’ve got five years on me.”
    “Gee, thanks for the compliment, I think.”
    Dub nodded and spat. “No problem, I’m here to help. Thing is, if you don’t suck it up, I’m going to beat you this year. Only three thousand points behind, and I’ve got eight weeks to knock you off the top of the rider board.”
    “Well, you just go ahead and do it if you’re riding so fucking hot,” Cody snapped.
    “I will if you keep riding like someone shot your dog every week. Fact is, Cody, you’re one of the greats, the kind that only comes along every ten years or so. You been a thorn in my side ever since I started riding, always coming in second or third behind you.”
    “And the Brazilians,” Cody said nastily.
    Dub waved the Brazilians away. “Frustrating thing is, I couldn’t even beat you the year you broke your damn leg. But even if I could do it, there wouldn’t be no satisfaction in beating you at your worst. I’d rather you pulled it together and gave me a