15. Tyler
The Bull Riding Comeback
I can’t believe how well the rehab is going.
Every session with Dr. Carmine pulls me closer to a complete recovery, and I can feel the strength returning to my knee. The doctor has been impressed with my progress, even giving me the nod to start practicing bull riding again, but only under the watchful eyes of a seasoned bull rider. There”s no way I’m messing this up again. I’ve worked too hard to throw it away now.
“Hey, you ready for this?” Sarah’s voice cuts through my thoughts, making me smile. Her constant support has been my bedrock, and just hearing her encourage me fuels my desire to get back on a bull.
“More than ever,” I reply, looking into her eyes. “Can’t thank you enough for sticking with me through all this.”
“Always,” she says, squeezing my hand. “We’re in this together.”
We walk around the ranch after my appointment, and seeing those bulls brings a rush of memories and a surge of adrenaline. It’s been too long since I last felt the thrill of the ride, but I know I’m more prepared than ever, and it”s all because of Sarah’s strong belief in me.
“Tyler, I’ve got someone for you to meet,” Jake calls out, motioning toward an older, stern-looking cowboy. My eyes widen at recognition once I realize that he”s Bill ”Blue Buffalo” Turner, a seasoned bull rider who is now retired.
I’m startled by the sudden introduction. Sarah excuses herself with a sly smile and leaves me with her brother and a legendary bull rider.
“This here’s Bill. He’s been riding longer than you’ve been alive, and he”s going to make sure you do this right,” Jake says, as I raise an eyebrow in confusion. “We’re going to ensure you return to riding a bull, and practice makes perfect. I’m pretty sure you know how well-rounded Bill is, and if you know his career, then you know you have the best ready to assist you.”
Bill nods at me, not one for many words, but his presence is reassuring. “Ready when you are,” he states, his voice gravelly and seasoned. Jake nods at both of us to depart and leave us to it. I see Bill is more about action and not standing around shooting pleasantries.
My nerves are high as Bill and I approach the fenced-in practice arena. I feel every fiber of my being humming with anticipation and nerves.
Under Bill’s supervision, I begin the slow process of getting reacquainted with the bulls. Each practice session is grueling, but a fire in my belly burns hotter each day, ignited by Sarah’s faith in me.
Bill’s quiet confidence does wonders to calm the storm inside me, even if he isn’t one for talking much. He glances at me, his eyes two piercing blue orbs that seem to see right through into my soul.
”First things first,” Bill says, his voice as rough as the leather of his gloves. ”You have to remember the basics. No fancy tricks. Fundamentals are your best friend out there.”
I nod, taking his words to heart. The fundamentals are what got me this far, and they”re what will carry me forward. Bill gestures for me to get up on the practice bull—a mechanical beast designed to mimic the unpredictable nature of a real one.
As I climb on, Bill stands by, hands on his hips, watching every move I make. ”Find your grip,” he instructs. ”You ever forget your anchor hand, and you”ll be tossed like a rag doll.”
My hands sweat as I grip the rope, feeling the familiar texture beneath my fingers. I square my shoulders and take a deep breath, centering myself just as Bill showed me. He hits the switch, and the mechanical bull roars to life. It bucks and spins, trying to throw me off, but I hold tight, muscles burning with the effort to stay centered.
”Good! Remember, your balance is everything!” Bill shouts over the whirring machine. ”Move with the bull! Don’t fight it!”
I try to sync my movements with the jerky rhythm of the bull, struggling at first but gradually finding my stride. Each successful ride, though small, builds my confidence.
After a while, Bill stops the machine. I pant heavily, my shirt sticking to my body with sweat. ”You’re getting there,” he says, an edge of approval in his tone. Coming from him, it”s high praise.
We move on to the next stage of training. Bill sets up a bull, indicating that I practice my grip and positioning. He demonstrates fluid and precise movements, even at his age.
”See that? Your free hand has to stay steady, like this,” he explains, gesturing with his free arm, keeping it tight but flexible. ”It’s your balance arm. You’ve got nothing without it.”
I imitate his stance as closely as possible. Still, I have a lot to relearn. Bill’s stoic nature gives way just slightly to offer more detailed critiques, each one more insightful than the last.
During a brief break, Sarah joins us with some cold water. “How’s it going?” she asks, eyes scanning my face, searching for any sign of discouragement.
“Pretty well, I think,” I reply, grinning despite the fatigue. “Bill’s the best there is.”
Bill chuckles, a rare sound. “Been doing this a good while,” he admits. “But it’s up to you to work hard.”
Sarah smiles at him. “Thank you for helping him. He’s got more heart than anyone I know.”
Bill nods solemnly. “Heart’s a good start. Needs to be matched by skill, though.”
We resume training, Bill pushing me further each time, correcting my posture, timing, and every move. The grueling hours blur together, each one a step closer to returning to prime riding shape.
One afternoon, as the sun dips low and bathes the practice yard in a golden hue, Bill surprises me with a real bull. “Time to see how you do with the genuine article,” he announces. My heart skips a beat, but I know I’m ready—or at least as ready as I can be under these circumstances.
Climbing onto the real bull, the difference is immediately apparent. The sheer power and unpredictability of the animal beneath me send a thrill through my body. Bill and Jack flank the pen, their eyes locked on me.
“Remember what you’ve learned, Tyler. Move with him, not against him,” Bill advises one last time.
The gate swings open, and the bull erupts into motion. Each buck feels like an attempt to launch me into the stratosphere, but I hold on, every muscle straining with effort. Bill’s training flashes through my mind, grounding me in the chaos.
Seconds feel like hours as I ride, my focus undivided. When the buzzer finally rings, signaling the end of the ride, I dismount, knees shaking but triumphant.
“Good job,” Bill says, a rare smile on his face. “Welcome back, cowboy.”
Sarah rushes over, her eyes shining with pride. “You did it, Tyler! You’re back!”
I take her hand, feeling the thrill of victory coursing through me. “We did it,” I corrected, smiling down at her. “Couldn’t have done it without you—or Bill.”
Bill nods, tipping his hat ever so slightly. “You got potential, kid. Keep working hard, and there’s no telling how far you’ll go.”
I feel grateful and confident that my career isn”t over as we leave the arena. I”m back on track, but this is just the start. With Sarah and Bill by my side, the future looks promising.
Hours later, we head to the dining hall for dinner. The aroma of pulled pork and hickory baked beans greets us as we walk through the doors. There”s a comforting familiarity to the scene, the communal tables filled with fellow ranch hands sharing stories and laughs. Sarah and I find a spot near the window, the twilight casting a warm glow over our table.
We grab our plates, heaping them with pulled pork sandwiches, hickory baked beans, and mashed potatoes smothered in rich gravy. I take a bite, savoring the tangy, smoky flavors that remind me of home. Sarah looks at me with a soft smile, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.
“Sarah, I know I’ve come a long way since the accident,” I begin, setting my fork down. “But there’s something I need to tell you. I still have this fear... this gnawing doubt that I could easily get injured again once I go back to bull riding. My knee—it’s just not the same.”
She reaches across the table, taking my hand in hers. “Tyler, you’re getting better every day. You”ll return to your career once your knee is fully healed. You’ve got this. I believe in you.”
I shake my head, the weight of my worries pressing down on me. “Sarah, that’s the thing. Even with a healed knee, it probably won’t be as sturdy as it used to be. I can’t shake off the fear that I’m more vulnerable now, that any wrong move could end everything again.”
Sarah’s grip tightens, her eyes locking onto mine with a fierce determination. “I get that you’re scared, Tyler. But you’ve always known the risks. This injury doesn’t define you. It’s how you come back from it that will. Besides, you’re not alone in this. You’ve got Bill, the whole ranch supporting you, and you’ve got me, Timmy, and Mrs. Carolyn.”
Her words are a balm to my troubled mind, but the doubts linger. “I just don’t want to let anyone down. What if I’m not as good as I used to be?”
She smiles, the kind that reaches her eyes and makes me feel like everything might be okay. “You’ve already proven your strength by making it this far. You’ll keep working hard, and we’ll support you every step of the way. I know you’ll figure it out.”
I look down at our joined hands, trying to draw strength from her unwavering belief in me. ”What if I’ve lost my confidence, Sarah? What if I freeze up in front of everyone? I’ve never thought about stage fright, but what if it’s different this time? What if it’s so bad that it leads to a serious injury all over again?”
Her gaze softens, but I can see the resolve in her eyes. ”Tyler, it’s okay to be worried about that. It’s completely natural. You’ve faced a life-changing injury. Anyone in your shoes would have doubts. But I believe that when you’re up on that bull, with the crowd cheering your name, it’ll all return to you. Bull riding is second nature to you—those instincts won’t disappear.”
I sigh, feeling the gnawing uncertainty claw at me. ”I’ve been out of the scene for so long. It’s hard to imagine getting back out there in front of everyone with all eyes on me. What if I can”t handle the pressure? What if I’m not the same Tyler everyone remembers?”
Sarah squeezes my hand tighter, her eyes never leaving mine. ”You are not the same, Tyler, and that’s not bad. You’ve grown stronger through this, mentally and emotionally. The people who matter, the ones who support you, we know that. And the crowd? They’re there because they love the sport and the riders. They’ll root for you because they see your passion and determination.”
I nod, but the turmoil inside me doesn’t settle quickly. ”It’s just—sometimes I feel like everything has changed. Like, maybe I’m not cut out for this anymore.”
”You’ll never know unless you try. And I’ll be right there with you every step of the way. We’ll face those fears together.”
Her words are a beacon of light in my cloudy thoughts, but the path ahead still seems daunting. ”What if I fail, Sarah? What if I get hurt again, and there’s no return from it now?”
Her fierce determination flares again, and she shakes her head. ”Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. But Tyler, I refuse to believe that’s how your story ends. You’re a fighter. You’ve overcome so much already. You’ve got everyone here, at the ranch, believing in you, and most importantly, you’ve got to start believing in yourself again. One step at a time.”
I take a deep breath, feeling a bit of the weight lift from my shoulders. ”I guess I just needed to hear that. It’s been hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel.”
”We’ll get there,” she says, with a confidence that almost convinces me. ”And when you do, it’ll all be worth it. The crowd will go wild, and you’ll feel that rush again. Remember why you fell in love with bull riding in the first place.”
I allow myself a small smile for the first time in what feels like an eternity. ”You always know what to say, don’t you?”
She grins back at me. ”That’s what partners are for. Now, let’s finish dinner and plan out your rehab for tomorrow. One day at a time, remember?”
I gaze out the window, the stars beginning to dot the night sky. “You always know the right thing to say,” I whisper, squeezing her hand. “I’m lucky to have you.”
“You’re not lucky,” she replies softly, “you’re deserving. Now, finish your dinner. You need your strength for tomorrow’s training, and you know Timmy will want to see you before he goes to bed.”
We eat in comfortable silence, the fears still present but less overwhelming. The food, the laughter around us, and Sarah’s unwavering support make me feel like maybe, just maybe, I can face whatever comes next.
As the night deepens, I find solace in the simple moments, knowing this journey is far from over but feeling ready to take it one step at a time.