Rodeo: King of the Rope

Like the professional golfer, the ro deo cowboy is a nomad of sport — wan dering from town to town, plying his trade in a succession of arenas, paying his own way and earning only what he is good enough to win. In ten years on the bigtime rodeo circuit, driving 70,-000 miles a year, sleeping in trailers and nursing an ulcer, New Mexico’s Glen Franklin, 29, has won more “go-rounds” and money ($152,481) than most. Until last week, though, one prize had always eluded him: the silver and gold belt buckle and embossed saddle that are awarded each year to the winner of the Rodeo Cowboys Association’s calf-roping championship—and which, for five straight years, had gone to Idaho’s “King of the Ropers,”, Dean Oliver.

Of rodeo’s five events (others: steer wrestling, bull riding, saddle and bareback bronc riding), calf roping is the most delicate and difficult. The “calves” are mean, 300-lb. Branguses that can smash a man’s ribs or knock out half his teeth with one kick. On horseback, the roper must run down and lasso the charging calf—then leap from his horse, wrestle the infuriated animal onto its side, loop three of its legs together with a “pigging string” and finish off his handiwork with a nonslip “hooey” knot. The race is against time (experts can do the whole job in 15 sec. or less), and it requires exquisite teamwork between the cowpoke and his mount (Will Rogers once remarked that a good roper owes 75% of his success to his horse). Rodeo ropers pay as much as $5,000 for a quarterhorse, and most of them—like matadors—maintain practice rings of their own, where they train their mounts for months to anticipate each move of a zigzagging calf, to stop instantly (“sticking ’em into the ground,” in rodeo talk) at the precise moment the lariat settles around the Brangus’ neck.

Windmill to Victory. From that point on, though, the contest is strictly man against beast. Last week, at the National Finals Rodeo in Oklahoma City, Franklin gave a superb demonstration of his skills. On his seventh “go-round,” Glen lost precious seconds when he got off to a slow start, had to chase his calf halfway across the arena before he got within lariat range. Leaping out of the saddle, pigging string clutched in his teeth, he flung the calf to the ground and climbed astride, pinning the flailing legs between his own knees and “windmilling” the string around the animal’s ankles. Throwing up his arms in a gesture of victory, Franklin waited for the judges’ verdict. His time: 10.6 sec., a new arena record that earned him $318.85, for the event and boosted his 1965 earnings to $29,431. That was enough to assure him the R.C.A. championship saddle and buckle—at last defeating Dean Oliver. It was, in fact, more money than any other roper in history had won in a single season.