My Two-Cents: This Isn’t My Second Rodeo.
The adage goes, “This isn’t my first rodeo!” But honestly, isn’t that a ridiculous boast? One rodeo isn’t exactly a wealth of experience. Can anyone truly claim mastery of anything after just one rodeo?
I propose we retire this cliché in favor of a more realistic one: “This isn’t my second rodeo.” Two rodeos? That’s a fair claim to experience. After all, the first rodeo is bound to go awry—flames, chaos, the works. A better saying might be: “My first rodeo went up in flames. Oops. My second rodeo? Meh, but at least I stayed on the horse. Now, I’m ready for my third!”
This idea has been on my mind as I’ve reflected on my own second rodeo: moving for the second time. My first rodeo — leaving home and jumping into college — was terrifying. It wasn’t the leap itself that scared me but the uncertainty about where I’d land. During my sophomore year, I felt unmoored and unsure of where I fit in the world. Loneliness was a taboo subject, and although I likely wasn’t the only one feeling this way, it sure felt like it. For the first time, I realized my next step forward was entirely up to me. Where I would go, how I’d land, and whether I’d jump again were decisions I had to make on my own.
It can be overwhelming when someone throws you the ball for the first time. I imagine Steve Kerr felt the same way in Game 6 of the 1997 NBA Finals. With the score tied and just seconds on the clock, Michael Jordan passed him the ball. Imagine the panic: Why the fuck do I have the ball right now? He’s the greatest player in NBA history, and here I am — just a role guy expected to deliver. But Kerr didn’t freeze. He didn’t hand the ball back. Instead, he sank the jumper and secured the Bulls’ championship.
Much like Kerr, life sometimes throws us the ball during our “first rodeo,” whether we’re ready or not. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about stepping up. My first rodeo — moving away from home — was scary and imperfect, but it taught me I could take the shot. And once I did, I realized I was capable of taking another.
The first rodeo isn’t where you master your trade. It’s about getting the ball up in the air — about being adequate, not perfect. About being Good, not Great. ;) Now that I’ve graduated college and moved for the second time, the things that felt overwhelming in my first rodeo feel like second nature. The whole point of a first rodeo is to get your feet wet—or just to see what you’re capable of. Steve Kerr didn’t know if he could be more than a role player, just like I didn’t know if I could start over in a new place. But we both learned from our first rodeo and carried those lessons forward.
Now, none of these bitches are ready for me (or Steve) when we get to our third rodeo!
