First off, Brenda is gonna kill me when she finds our I shared this story, but here goes.

We used to toss shirts in the crowd at the Caldwell Night Rodeo.  We would walk around the arena getting people all worked up just before the grand entry.  Since I played ball and have a decent arm, Brenda would hand me the shirts and I would toss them into the crowd.

Just before our third Caldwell Night Rodeo, I had a horrific bicycle accident on the Boise Green Belt.  I left DNA all over a new piece of new asphalt, I also separated both shoulders, messed up some bones and bruised everything else.  So I was feeling pretty happy on pain meds when it came time to enter the arena and throw shirts and in no condition to throw anything, let alone something to a crowd.

With me on the sidelines, it was up to Brenda to throw the shirts.  We entered the arena on the Civi side and Brenda promptly started to try and get the crowd into it.  She would strike a pose, point at a section of the crowd and launch a duck.

Let me describe "Launch a Duck."  Brenda's throws would leave her hand and flutter to the first row or two of the crowd.  They would go up, flutter around a second and then drop from the sky. I think her throws could actually be clocked with a sundial. This went on as we walked to each section, her throwing and me reloading her with fresh shirts.

We had made it around the arena, the audience hooting and hollering, Brenda pointing like Babe Ruth pointing with his bat before he would hit a home run and ducks landing in the crowd, sputtering out like Evel Knievel, jumping the Snake River. (That one went really well)

We were at the end of the Rowdy's section and down to the very last shirt.  Brenda went into pointing and taunting the crowd.  The crowd having seen where the other shirts had landed as Brenda made her throws, all came rushing to the fence in anticipation of another duck falling from the sky.

With the crowd at a frenzied pitch,   Brenda pointing like she was going to throw a Nolan Ryan fastball, the place was rocking, all for a t-shirt.  Brenda closed her eyes, reared back and launched a rocket, a where did that come from, get out of the way rocket.  I actually heard the sound of a jet engine as it passed my head.

The shirt cleared the top of the 6 foot fence by a couple of inches gaining speed as it went.  People tried to grab it, but by the time they were able to react it was past them. There was no stopping that thing. I thought at the time if it hits someone it's gonna not only leave a mark but hurt bit time.

Now while all the crowd was yelling, screaming and cheering, there were two ladies, heads turned looking at each other, just chatting away like they were at morning tea.  They were totally oblivious to the missile heading their way.

I don't know why, but one of the women turned her head just in time to see the bullet shirt come in and paste her friend right in the chest.  The shirt knocked the woman off her seat, sending her feet straight in the air.  As the woman and shirt both hit the ground, the Rowdy's wasted no time in pouncing on the unclaimed projectile.  There were bodies everywhere, with the once unaware chatty Kathy on the bottom of the pile.

We exited the arena as fast as we could, leaving the mass of humanity fighting for that shirt like a pile of football players going after a fumbled ball. It was a shining moment for Brenda though, cause that was a throw any quarterback in the NFL would have been proud of.

See you at the Caldwell Night Rodeo.

Kevin Mee