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Maverick

I t’s a bittersweet moment walking into the arena tonight, knowing it will be my last. I’m announcing my retirement after my ride tonight.

Getting to go out at a home show will make it that much more special.

There’s no fancy arena, just a local fairground and the Wyoming air.

Everyone I love will be in the stands tonight.

Well, not everyone. The most important person in my world still doesn’t want anything to do with me, but I’m hoping there's still something there to be saved. Once this is taken care of, I’m free.

Free to give everything I have to Ava if she still wants me.

God, I hope she does because I love that woman more than life.

These small rodeos are my favorite. The crowds are just as loud, even without a roof over our heads.

Everyone in attendance is here because they love the sport to their core.

Not for a fancy show but to enjoy the sport in its most basic form.

This is the exact type of place I always dreamed of ending my career at.

I’m not one hundred percent sure what my next step will be, but I know my first stop will be Ava's door once I’m out of here.

I’ve got to make this right while I still can.

Heading to the locker room, I see a lot of familiar faces.

Some have been around forever, and some are up and coming.

All of them are tough as nails. They’ll do whatever they have to do to get under your skin and get an edge up on you.

That’s how they win, and that’s how they become the best. Bull riding is as much mental as it is physical.

If you aren’t tough as shit, they will chew you up and spit you out.

Your skin better be tougher than your leather chaps.

We may not be taking home a check tonight since this is a fundraiser, but with every win, you cash in something much more valuable than money.

You get a fresh-cut check of respect, and to all these boys, that means more than money ever will.

The only person here who knows this is my last is Weston. He may be a giant pain in the ass, but he’s a damn good friend to have. He tells me what I need to hear and not what I want to hear, and that’s one of the many reasons I respect him so much.

“You ready for this?” he asks as he walks beside me.

It hits me that this should feel more bittersweet than it does, but I’m ready to hang up my vest and chaps and slow down.

Plus, I’m going to be taking up winning back my girl as my full-time job.

If I convinced her to love me and trust me once, I can do it again.

“You know, I thought I would be a lot sadder, but I’m feeling a bit relieved. After this is over, I’m not Maverick the bull rider and son of a legend, I’m just going to be Maverick.”

“Well, to most of us, you’ve always been just Maverick.

” He smacks the back of my shoulder a couple of times while giving me a tight smile.

I haven’t even told Rhett, my manager, or my coach.

For now, it brings me a little peace to close this door by myself.

“When are you planning on telling everyone?”

A heavy sigh leaves me, because I know the shit I’m going to catch for this.

But I didn’t want to deal with the fuss, I wanted to close the door and do it on my terms. Plus, Doug will be a fucking nightmare, and if I can get even one extra day of not having to deal with the meltdown he’ll have, it’s worth ruffling a few feathers over.

“Probably tomorrow. I’m not wanting to hide it from them, I just want to get this door closed and then deal with the rest.” They’re all in the stands tonight anyway.

Since this is a local show, my pieced-together little family all showed up.

You know who didn’t? Douchebag Doug. Because this ride doesn’t count for points so he doesn’t give a fuck.

We make our way to the locker room, and Weston heads over to the corral to wait until I get geared up and dressed out.

My mind tunes out the noise in the locker room when I enter, fully focused on what’s coming next.

I can really see it now, the life I want with Ava.

She was always meant to be my girl, and someday, I’m going to owe her big for giving me something worth walking away for.

I never would have done it for myself, but for her, I would walk through fire, cross oceans, and kill for.

When I walk out, I take it all in: the bright lights shining down on the dirt, the packed stands, and the noise of it all.

I really am going to miss this. But maybe someday I can find a different way to get myself involved.

Judge or support in another capacity. Find a different way to love bull riding that won’t kill me.

There won’t be any long waits tonight since it is such a small show. Weston and I sit against the corral watching the barrel racers and the bronc back riders go. Before long, the other three bull riders and I are called over to the chute. With my bag on my shoulder, we head on over.

I get the honor of going last, for which I am grateful. Make this night last a little longer, and get to enjoy my last time slowly.

When my time rolls around, Weston is the only one there to help me, and I think this is the best way this could have happened. “Alright, helmet is secured,” Weston says as he taps the side of it. Pulling on my hand, I double-check that I’m wrapped in tight and that my gloves are nice and sticky .

The beast under me huffs out a nasty snarl. He’s going to be a mean son of a bitch. At least no one will be able to say I had an easy ride on my way out. With the way his body is already trying to slam me in the chute, this is going to be the longest eight seconds of my fucking life.

Fully strapped on and geared up, I put my hand in the air.

The man running the chute looks to me, waiting for the head nod to signal I’m ready.

Nerves are normal, but tonight, they are hitting me with full force.

Maybe it’s because my whole family is here, maybe it’s my last ride, who knows?

Closing my eyes for half a second, I settle down the roaring of my pulse.

Being riled up is not the way you ever want to leave the chute.

My thoughts drift to my old man, and this last ride is going to be for him.

A silent salute to the Ryder legacy that only he and I know about.

When I’m sure I'm ready, I give a nod of my head, and we come out of the chute with force.

I focus my attention on keeping my legs strong and tight.

Arm up. No way in hell am I letting this arm fall on this last ride.

The bull bucks with fury, and his snarling pants are the only thing I can hear.

He bucks harder and harder, and with a sudden jerk, his body swings right.

I lose the battle of gripping him with my thighs and feel my ass fly off of the bulls back.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I feel muscles in my shoulder tear and burn as he keeps whipping us around.

There’s a loud popping sound, and I don’t even need to feel the pain to know something is broken.

I try to rip my hand out of the rope or my glove, but it’s not coming loose.

Not again. I rip my arm back again, and it comes loose just as I feel myself start to fall.

My back hits the dirt with a loud thud. The wind gets knocked from my lungs.

The helmet only does so much when you slam on the ground at that force.

I know I need to get up, but my vision is blurry.

When I finally shake the stars away, I look up only to see his hoof coming straight for my face, and I don’t have time to move. I know it in my bones.

Reflexively, I put my arms up and try to roll, but it’s no use.

I get hit hard enough to realize how fucking bad this is.

My eyelids start to feel heavy, and I can’t shake the feeling of everything being in slow motion.

The screams from around me start to feel like they’re getting quieter.

As the lights go out and everything fades to black, there’s only one thing on my mind.

The only thing that matters. Her. Not my body, not that these might be my last breaths.

When the lights go out, all I can see is her face.