Rick Reilly at the Rodeo
Talking with PBR "entertainer" Flint Rasmussen. The original idea was for me to stay in the barrel the whole time, but with the flak jacket I was wearing, plus the lunch at Mama Leone's, I didn't fit.
"The paramedics will come get you through that gate over there."
I really need a new agent.
I really thought I was going to become a hornament, until Joe Baumgartner ran through and saved my butt.
I'm so glad my moment of terror could amuse most of New York City. The funny thing is, before the event, I'd tried jumping up to this spot on the fence and never could. But PBR "entertainer" Flint Rasmussen said, "You will." He was right.
Right here, I'm thinking, OK, this was a really bad idea. Also, where, exactly, is my hair?
"Right there is where you dropped your boxers."
You'd be amazed how bad your notes are when you're too afraid to look down at them.
This may look like veteran bullfighter Frank Newsome is trying to pull me closer to the action, but it's just the opposite. Frank is holding onto me because he's scared to death. At least that's what I'm telling the grandkids someday.
No, really, there was a really rank bull trying to nail me. You just can't see him. He chased me around that barrel twice! No, seriously ...
"I haven't seen anybody that scared since Rosie O'Donnell hired her new publicist!"
Afterwards, I'm telling him, "Now, see, Frank? That wasn't so bad, was it?"