Page 22 of Broken Trust
Bryce introduces each of us, rattling off our accomplishments—championships, titles, and years of experience.
Then he addresses the students. “If you listen to us, we can make you better.”
The crowd grows quiet.
“We’ve spent our lives learning this sport.”
His arm sweeps across the line of instructors. “We are the best at what we do.”
The grin returns.
“The crème de la crème.”
Laughter ripples through the arena.
“And you couldn’t be luckier to have us.”
The kids cheer again.
Bryce waits for them to settle.
“Training doesn’t stop when you’re out of the arena either. You will have mandatory classroom theory sessions to attend.”
A groan rises from the crowd.
“You may not find it as exciting, but it is just as important,” he says sternly.
He starts explaining the classroom curriculum.
Video review sessions.
Event fundamentals.
Scoring systems.
Sports psychology.
Equipment maintenance.
Livestock care.
Safety procedures.
Everything young competitors need to understand beyond simply climbing onto an animal and hanging on.
The parents seem particularly pleased with that part of the orientation.
Then Bryce glances toward the gate. “Now I’d like to introduce our medical staff. Hopefully, you’ll all see very little of them.”
I half listen.
Still scanning the crowd and studying the students. Clocking the ones to watch.
“Dr. Seth Stoke.”
A man in his fifties with salt-and-pepper hair steps into the arena, wearing a crisp white doctor’s coat and a confident smile. Looking like every sports medicine doctor I’ve ever met.
Polite applause follows.
