Posted 9/27/16 (Tue)
I guess I have to keep you informed about Carson Wentz. For you people that do not live in North Dakota and maybe didn’t get to watch the game yesterday.
As you know, Carson is from Bismarck and was drafted by the Philadelphia Eagles. Yesterday he led the Eagles to a 34-3 victory over the Steelers. He is now 3 and 0 and broke Tom Brady’s rookie record of pass attempts without an interception.
I told my grandsons that he is a personal friend of mine. That is not quite true. But I have been in Bismarck before. And I figure that is close enough. That makes us kind of neighbors.
The NFL makes a lot of money on guys like this. And I suppose Carson and the Eagles do too.
Will was going to order a Wentz jersey for his youngest boy, Slate. He got on the Internet and found just what he was looking for. $78!!!! $78 for a jersey for a three-year-old kid! That is like robbery!
But the problem was quickly solved. Three-year-olds, at least ours, can’t read or write. And he is a little weak on his colors. So we gave him an old Vikings jersey and told him it said Wentz. He loves it. Problem solved.
I attended a fire hall meeting in Richardton this week.
Richardton is a great little town where we used to produce the annual rodeo.
While we were waiting for the meeting to start, we started visiting about some of the things that happened different years of the rodeo. Some of the things I can’t really tell about, but some are pretty funny.
So I thought maybe I would do a deal like Sportscenter does. You know. They put up those top 10 plays. And then sometimes they put up the “not top 10 plays.”
I thought maybe I’d start telling some of my “not top 10 rodeo stories.”
Sometimes, when producing a rodeo, you end up short of bronc riders and bull riders and you have to improvise a little. And a good way to improvise is to get the kids involved.
You can have a boot race, musical chairs, or make something up.
One year at Richardton we had a greased pig contest.
We had a twenty-pound weaner pig and had him all greased up with lard. He was a slippery little guy and didn’t really like our game. In fact, he squealed on us.
We lined all the kids up in the middle of the arena and had porky in a box. The whistle blew, the box was lifted up, and a hundred kids went screaming towards that pig.
That pig took off south, under the fence, and headed for the Interstate! You’ve never really lived until you see a hundred kids standing there dumbfounded and wondering what to do.
I got to thinking this morning while I was frying bacon, “I wonder whatever happened to that pig!”