Sunday Morning Coffee — December 14, 2025 — Not My First One
By Roy Berger, Las Vegas, Nevada
I met Cindy and Chuck for the first time on Monday night. Pleasant folks, early 60’s-ish, living just outside Amarillo, Texas. Probably on a ranch but one of the few things I didn’t ask.
We chatted for the better part of two hours with little in common and the unstated understanding we’d never see each other again. Little in common being the key understatement.
Chuck enjoyed giving me a tutorial about what I was watching. Cindy delighted showing and explaining her gauche jewelry to Andi. My wife feigned interest. About a half hour in, I finally got to use a line literally that I’ve probably used a hundred times in my 73 years as nothing more than a throw-away expression.
I turned to Chuck and asked, “Do you think this is my first rodeo?”
We were seatmates and they had every right to think we were nothing but a couple of old hayseeds. They were dressed to the nines. Comparatively, we to the ones, more a reflection of me than Andi.
What does a Jewish kid born in the Bronx wear to a rodeo? The simple answer is nothing that I own. Or come to think of it, ever did.
Oh, Chuck and Cindy had it all. The cowboy and cowgirl hats. These weren’t conventional 10-gallon Stetsons either. These were big, maybe 12-gallon if there’s such a thing. So big that the tickets for the seats behind them were marked ‘obstructed view.’ Of course the cowboy sport jacket for Chuck; the trendy faux-fur for Cindy. The jeans need to be faded and the boots neatly shined with a little bit of recent scuff. They easily could have been cast as extras in Landman. Andi gave it a go—denim shirt, jeans fashionably faded with a trendy tear or two and a pair of evening boots not particularly rodeo trendy. Me? Totally void. At no point last Monday did I consider an emergency trip to Boot Barn, Sheplers or the Wrangler Store. I am a do with what you have kind of guy, so I went with it: jeans more worthy of biz casual than rodeo dirt; no boots, but Nike black sneakers with a UNLV basketball logo signifying being in the home arena of the Rebels; a stylish black cap with a faint imprint of Fulham from the English Premier Football League. However, I did decide to go Wild West with the best I could find: my Vegas Golden Knights pullover— the Knights play in the Western Conference of the National Hockey League. That’s my only alternative to western wear.
Yes, it’s rodeo fortnight in Las Vegas. The first two weeks every December. The NFR— National Finals Rodeo—hits town and turns a dead period upside down. It’s the Super Bowl/World Series of rodeo and every cowboy, cowgirl and all the wannabes are welcomed here. There’s $17 million of prize money up for grabs. Decades ago what had been a quiet time between Thanksgiving and New Year’s in town is now very much alive. And bucking. Forty years ago, in 1985, Vegas legends Benny Binion and Michael Gaughan partnered with Las Vegas tourism officials convincing the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association (PRCA) to move their marquis event from Oklahoma City to Vegas. Nobody other than the OKC Chamber has looked back since.
Las Vegas had the rooms and the venue to accommodate what PRCA hoped would be appeal to the masses. In 1983 the Thomas & Mack Center, named after two local bankers who provided the land and initial funding, opened with Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Diana Ross on stage. It was built on the UNLV campus to be the home of Runnin’ Rebels basketball and its colorful head coach Jerry Tarkanian. On December 30, 1983, exactly two weeks after the grand opening, the Rebels played their first game in the 18,000+ seat arena against Georgetown with nary an empty seat to be found. It was that way until Tark left in 1992 with a UNLV won-loss record of 509-105 and a 1990 National Championship.
Rodeo officials, upon landing the deal in Vegas, salivated which actually they do anyway after a mouthful of chew. Las Vegas became the natural destination for their showcase event. It premiered on December 7, 1985, and has been here in the same space ever since. The foresight of both Vegas and rodeo officials was rewarded: two years later, in 1987, began a streak of sellouts that now has reached 385 nights in a row including last night’s finale. Rodeo tickets are tougher to find than the late Danny Gans duckets were back in the day. NFR is the longest-running sold-out event in the history of Las Vegas. Thirty-eight straight years. That’s 18,000 on hand sporting about 17,000 pairs of spats every night. It’s good to be StubHub or just an old fashioned scalper out front.
When you do some quick math ten sold-out rodeo event nights is 180,000 fans every December. Now double or triple that number. Rodeo management estimates two to three times more rodeo fans in town without tickets than those who have. Some 200,000 additional will come to Vegas with no intention whatsoever of going to the Thomas & Mack. They are here for something called Cowboy Christmas hosted at the Las Vegas Convention Center, a shopping mecca for every cowboy and girl. Plus Cowboy Christmas has spread to other hotel properties—there’s no shortage of anything a rodeo fan might want under the tree with the exception of a good Chanukah gift for tonight.
The annual economic impact to Vegas from the fortnight of rodeo activity is about $200 million not including resort fees or ATM surcharges. Those who don’t attend the event have watch parties all over the Strip, broadcast live each night, on something called the Cowboy Channel, which I assume is part of your cable sports package. Pro Fantasy Rodeo is huge. Not kidding. If you can land Stetson Wright as your first draft pick you just about have it made. Coors Lights for $3 go as fast as a cold run on the craps table. Casino floors are packed. The rodeo starts each night at six, over by eight and then the fun begins— country concerts in lounges and showrooms all over town. The hotels want you and your money. You can see such acts as Kenny Fielder & The Cowboy Killers or Giovannie & The Hired Guns at the Westgate. How about The Red Clay Strays at Virgin? Gilleys at Treasure Island is SRO; the South Point, the official hotel host of NFR and one of the few value properties left for locals in our town, is jammed. South Point during rodeo time hosts the World Series of Team Roping at their equestrian center and packs them like asses on a saddle. It’s a daytime event, 9 am is the first rope and some 130,000 are expected for team roping. It’s like that virtually everywhere. Even down on Fremont Street. Zach Brown is at Sphere while Tug, I mean, Tim McGraw is featured at Caesars; Brad Paisley at Wynn and Wynonna is at The Venetian. Wayne Newton, still at the Flamingo, doesn’t count. If you are looking for some good classic rock while the rodeo is in town, a trip up to Reno is probably the best bet.
As I told my new friend Chuck, who wore a belt buckle larger than my hand, this wasn’t my first rodeo. Not by a long shot. I go way back to the late 1960s in upstate New York while at summer camp. Maybe it was 1967. I was 15. It’s a distant memory but the entire camp, 100 Jewish kids, who didn’t know the difference between a rocking and quarter horse, were at some remote fairground. It was either that summer, or maybe the one before when I had designs on being a rodeo cowboy, something no doubt that would have made my parents proud. I can still hear my mother shriek—you want to be a what?? Horseback riding was part of our regular itinerary at Camp Impala in Woodbourne about 90 miles north of the City. My horse was Peanut. He was as tough as they came to control. Sometimes he would actually get up to full gallop, maybe five or six mph. He was flying. I was terrified. It was all I could do to stay aboard. Evidently my prowess caught the attention of some of my fellow campers. I was nicknamed Bronco. Almost 60 years later I’m still in touch with a few of the fellas. They still call me Bronc. My next rodeo was about 30 years later, 1997ish in Wichita, Kansas. Then three decades passed until Monday night. I fully plan to be back in 2055, another thirty or so.
So, Andi and I bought NFR tickets on StubHub. Not cheap. Sitting upstairs is about $200 a pop and upwards of $500 for the aroma of the lower level. We watched Bareback Riding, Steer Wrestling, Team Roping, Saddle Bronc Riding, Tie-Down Roping and Bull Riding which sure wasn’t like we used to do as kids at Jolly Roger’s amusement park on Long Island when we put a quarter into the bull’s neck. We got to see such rodeo luminaries as Rocker Steiner, Haven Meged, Q Taylor, Lightning Aguilera, Tyler Waguespack and Rowdy Parrott. All three Wright brothers were mainstays in the competition: Statler, Stetson and Ryder. Orville and Wilbur were no-shows. Misnamed is Jayco Roper who disappointingly is not a steer roper but a bareback rider. We enjoyed it, primarily because it was so different for us. We struggled at times with some animal welfare issues, but the highlight of our, or at least my night, was the all-ladies Barrel Racing event— the speed, skill and seemingly the enjoyment the horses had in racing. I would go back again just for that. It didn’t hurt that Kassie Mowry won it. I now have my first cowgirl crush.
We said our goodbyes to Chuck and Cindy. They’re here for all ten nights and may never have a seatmate like me again. At least they can hope they don’t. As the stock was put back up in trailers taking over most of the parking lot, Cindy and Chuck’s evening on our fair town was just beginning. Andi and I were headed for the bedtime finish line. I apologized to them for asking so many questions but qualified it that no matter what they might think it wasn’t my first rodeo. Cindy smirked. Chuck rolled his eyes.
Really, it wasn’t. And that’s no bull.
I’m proud that Medjet is sponsoring Sunday Morning Coffee. I spent 20 wonderful years with Medjet in Birmingham, Alabama, and can tell you unequivocally they are the standard-bearer for medical assistance membership programs. A talented staff, who cares about its members, is at the forefront of the company’s success. Whether you are traveling for business or pleasure, domestic or international, a Medjet membership should be an important part of your travel portfolio before you leave home. Check out the Medjet website at medjet.com or just tap on the Medjet logo and you’ll be able to get a look at Medjet’s services, rules and regulations, pricing, and an overview of the organization. And remember, any opinions expressed in Sunday Morning Coffee content or comments belong to the author and not the sponsor. Safe travels with your Medjet membership! — Roy Berger
Hey, Bronco, nice story. My family and I went to a dude ranch, Rocking Horse Range in upstate New York sometime in the sixties. Fortunately, I didn't have a horse like Peanut. My horse - I forgot his name - was pretty docile. Thank heavens! Wishing you and your family a Happy Chanukah!
It is an experience for sure and now we have a new nickname for you……Bronco.