multistage
Club Member
I’ve had many. Many.
I’m no expert, no medical professional, although I am married to an ICU RN, and she is quite familiar with them.
Used to rodeo. A lot. I rode bareback horses for years, although I am the wrong size and shape for it. Hollywood cowboys (me) are BS. Tall and thin, aw shucks, kind of a rarity. Most good bronc riders are smaller, stout, wrestler type guys.
5’6 or so, maybe a buck fifty. These are the guys that do well.
But 6’5 and 180 (at the time) most generally aren’t too good, and I wasn’t. But I loved it, so I did it. For years.
And man, did I get banged up. I do have some awesome scars from multiple surgeries, great conversation pieces. Lots of iron holding me together, flying is a royal pain. Can’t pass the detectors so they wand me down. Hell, one liver spotted horse put my ass in the hospital three weeks in a row. Fractured wrist, compression fracture (back), then he pulled me out the dashboard and kicked me in the head because I sat up (BIG no-no) too quick and caught a hoof behind my left ear.
First concussion.
When I got up, I saw my friend Jay (all five of him) headed my way to pitch a hand, saw these weird little explosions going off everywhere in my sight. Being the good pal that he is, he kindly told me I suck at this, should consider the building trade, and could he have my gear?
F you. No.
They hauled me home, and I spent the night freezing cold but dumping sweat. Girlfriend woke me up every two hours to make sure I wasn’t lying next to her stone dead. Can’t blame her. Creepy.
Had at least 7+ more concussions since, all rodeo related.
Point is, I’m 54 years old now. I drink too much (Dolphins guy since 1976, so comes with the territory. Oh, how I long for the days of Strock to Duriel and Nat).
But I’m slipping. Just a bit. I can tell. And so can my wife.
Not enough to cause serious issues. But my memory isn’t what it was, mind not quite as sharp. Takes a bit longer.
But I know that 54 isn’t truly old although it may seem ancient to some of you pups. But it isn’t. Not for this.
Considering what I put myself through, all those concussions, I’m mighty lucky. A fine wife, two great sons. And I know everybody’s names. Can even still do my job.
For now.
Tua: retire. Don’t be this guy. It’s just not worth it.
I’m no expert, no medical professional, although I am married to an ICU RN, and she is quite familiar with them.
Used to rodeo. A lot. I rode bareback horses for years, although I am the wrong size and shape for it. Hollywood cowboys (me) are BS. Tall and thin, aw shucks, kind of a rarity. Most good bronc riders are smaller, stout, wrestler type guys.
5’6 or so, maybe a buck fifty. These are the guys that do well.
But 6’5 and 180 (at the time) most generally aren’t too good, and I wasn’t. But I loved it, so I did it. For years.
And man, did I get banged up. I do have some awesome scars from multiple surgeries, great conversation pieces. Lots of iron holding me together, flying is a royal pain. Can’t pass the detectors so they wand me down. Hell, one liver spotted horse put my ass in the hospital three weeks in a row. Fractured wrist, compression fracture (back), then he pulled me out the dashboard and kicked me in the head because I sat up (BIG no-no) too quick and caught a hoof behind my left ear.
First concussion.
When I got up, I saw my friend Jay (all five of him) headed my way to pitch a hand, saw these weird little explosions going off everywhere in my sight. Being the good pal that he is, he kindly told me I suck at this, should consider the building trade, and could he have my gear?
F you. No.
They hauled me home, and I spent the night freezing cold but dumping sweat. Girlfriend woke me up every two hours to make sure I wasn’t lying next to her stone dead. Can’t blame her. Creepy.
Had at least 7+ more concussions since, all rodeo related.
Point is, I’m 54 years old now. I drink too much (Dolphins guy since 1976, so comes with the territory. Oh, how I long for the days of Strock to Duriel and Nat).
But I’m slipping. Just a bit. I can tell. And so can my wife.
Not enough to cause serious issues. But my memory isn’t what it was, mind not quite as sharp. Takes a bit longer.
But I know that 54 isn’t truly old although it may seem ancient to some of you pups. But it isn’t. Not for this.
Considering what I put myself through, all those concussions, I’m mighty lucky. A fine wife, two great sons. And I know everybody’s names. Can even still do my job.
For now.
Tua: retire. Don’t be this guy. It’s just not worth it.