Cowgirl Sass & Savvy

Planking your entry fees

Julie Carter

Yesterday, Jess electronically transferred funds from a bank in Texas to a bank in New Mexico for a roping to be held in Oklahoma the end of May.

This was done via a cell phone and even though it is smaller than a deck of cards, in the cowboy world it's the smartest widget in the world. It bounced the message off a satellite somewhere close to Pluto.

Jess accomplished this miracle from his office desk with his feet propped on same.
Adding to the technology advancements of the sport, notification of this roping had been received from the producer over the Internet.

The event will be held in a covered, climate-controlled arena complete with a snack bar, real bar, lights, an adequate-sized pen to rope in, padded bleacher seats with good views for the ropers' wives, a gift shop with all sorts of desirable goodies (also for wives), a second arena and practice steers for those so inclined.

This arena will come with first class announcers and a good sound system, flag men who do not go to sleep, correct sized steers, a light bar barrier system and various other cushy amenities.

While warming up Flint to practice yesterday afternoon, Jess got to thinking about how far the system and sport has come. When he first started competing in college, he had to live with his heeler in order to keep track of him.

For this upcoming roping, he merely entered as a header and his heeler would be selected and announced later. While "good" heelers seem to be scarce, there are good ones around and for the most part, they can be trusted out of the header's sight.

Jess distinctly remembered that the communication for a roping back when was based on calling around to everybody you knew until somebody knew the where and when information.

There was no such thing as entering six months in advance. You entered when you got there because you always needed to allow time for flats, horses that could not be caught, girlfriends who were late, the possibility that you might have to study a little bit to get out of school and various other emergencies.

Entering when you got "there" usually involved some place in somebody's pasture that had been semi-cleared, a hog wire and cedar post pen built, steers of assorted sizes on both sides of ideal.

Most of these makeshift arenas had an announcer's box built up on poles with a set of steep steps for access. With no thought of a sound system, the announcer simply yelled for ropers to get in the roping box.

To enter, the ropers would troop up the stairs, standing one on every step with a line snaking around on the ground while they waited to pay their entry fees. This was accomplished by laying their entry fees down on the 1-inch x 12-inch board that served as a counter in front of the roping secretary. This process was known far and wide as "planking your E.F.s".

That was a phrase every roper understood and often during the week among the ropers could be heard, "You got you E.F.s saved up?" or "You ready to plank your E.F.s this Saturday?"

Ropers started saving up their E.F.s every Monday. The process hinged on whether the horse needed shoes, the truck broke down and how much anti-dehydration beverage was required during the week.

Sometimes Jess and his partner met these challenges and sometimes they simply planked a hot check, counting on winning enough to buy it back. That did not always happen.

The miracle in all this is not the evolution to today's electronic equipment, communications systems, classy arenas and the "big business" that the sport has become.

The miracle is that, having been a team roper all his life, Jess actually now has any E.F.s to plank.

Julie can be reached for comment at jcarter@tularosa.net