Seattlest Travels to the Tacoma Dome for PBR

Not Pabst. It's not the rodeo, either, although people called it the rodeo when we told them we were going: "Why the hell would you drive to Tacoma for a rodeo?" PBR is Professional Bull Riding: actually one rodeo event, pumped up with a lot of rock music and a light show, arena-ized, citified--to the extent that's possible--and branded à la NASCAR. And televised. We've caught it on TV a few times and it seemed like it'd be cool. And it was cool.

The rider doesn't have to kill the bull, tackle it, rope it, butcher it into steaks or anything like that. He just has to sit on its back for eight seconds and then a bunch of judges decide whether the bull tried hard enough to remove him and give the ride a score. Best three scores wins. It's not Spain where they stab the bull with swords until it falls down and dies and the crowd goes wild, but, okay, it's still a long way from a PETA-certified event, and, sitting in our seat and looking around, the Tacoma Dome for a Professional Bull Riding event is a long way from Capitol Hill or even Ballard for that matter. There are a lot of cowboy hats, Carhart jackets and tucked-in, button-down shirts. Still, a full-on hillbilly getup wouldn't necessarily escape ridicule. A guy near us was wearing a flannel with the sleeves cut off, and the rodeo clown who served as the master of ceremonies spotted him and had him throw down the shirt. "I'm a hillbilly leprechaun," he said, putting the shirt on and doffing his green hat. Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone. The clown would be in the middle of some routine when the Steppenwolf came blasting on and the lights would fire up and a bull with a man strapped to its back would launch into the arena.

It's not a particularly nuanced sport, despite the presence of judges. Even Seattlest could tell when we'd seen the best ride of the night on Saturday, and on Sunday, at home on our couch, we could easily spot the worst. A guy got hung up on his rope and the bull dragged him around the arena for what seemed like a few minutes as people crowded around trying to stop the thing. Finally they untangled the two and the bull ran into one chute and the rider into another. The camera followed the guy into the bowels of the Tacoma Dome where he collapsed, alone, onto the concrete. We wondered which of the combatants was being exploited for our entertainment, but, you know, only briefly.