Latest news with #Stone
Los Angeles Times
6 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
Mutton bustin': the Little League of rodeo country
SANTA FE, N.M. — It's 30 seconds before his big rodeo ride, and Julian Apodaca looks like he wants to disappear under the wide brim of his white cowboy hat. He's staring down at his boots, tugging at his lower lip, rubbing at his teary eyes. Julian's father, a former junior bull-riding champion, has a hand on each of his 5-year-old son's shoulders. 'It's OK, hijo,' Vince Apodaca says as somebody plucks the hat off the boy's head and replaces it with a helmet. 'Cowboy up, OK? I don't want no crying when you get on there.' This is the world of a little-known but beloved rodeo event where kids a couple of years out of diapers ride sheep just like the big boys ride bulls. Suburban parents put their kids in Little League. In the country, where rodeo is king, parents sign up their kids for mutton bustin'. In a flash, a rodeo hand lifts Julian from his father's arms and swings him onto the back of an unhappy sheep, which is jerking around in a small pen. 'I love you!' Vince calls out as the gate comes up. The sheep shoots into the arena, and there's Julian, clinging tightly to its neck. Suddenly the animal cuts right and Julian slips left, tumbling into the dirt. As if that wasn't bad enough, the sheep kicks him with a hind hoof as it stumbles away. There are gasps all around. Then Julian stands up, wobbles a bit, and grins. Kids have probably been climbing on the backs of sheep for as long as there have been ranches. But it was in last 30 years or so that mutton bustin' started appearing at rodeos in the West. Here at the 60th annual Rodeo de Santa Fe, which has held the event since the mid-1990s, the rules are pretty simple: If your child is between 4 and 8 years old and weighs less than 65 pounds, you can sign a liability waiver, pay 30 bucks, plop him on a sheep and tell him to hang on. Twenty kids will participate tonight in two groups, one before the rodeo begins and the second as halftime entertainment. The ride rarely lasts longer than a few seconds (sheep may not buck, but they sure can wiggle), and every boy or girl walks away with a shiny silver belt buckle stamped 'Champion.' It's not a competition, but don't tell that to the parents, especially those who want their kids to grow up to be professional bull riders. Observes Jamie Neal, who has organized the event for the last several years: 'It can get intense.' Stone T. Smith may only be 5 years old, but he's got pedigree. The sturdy blond comes from the best-known roping family in the Texas Panhandle. His father, Stran T. Smith, is a world-champion tie-down roper (he'll be riding here later tonight), and the Smith clan has relatives in the ProRodeo Hall of Fame. As his father prepares to compete, Stone's older cousin Sawyer Vest frets over some bad news. The sign-up sheet for the next round of mutton bustin' is full, and Stone might not be able to ride. 'I'm going to be so mad if he can't rock it tonight,' says Vest, 20. 'He's never been that interested in rodeo, but today I finally convinced him to do it.' Vest and Stone are standing next to the sheep pen, sizing up the animals. This flock -- which will be used for shearing, not eating -- comes from a spread up north, where the rancher lets the sheep's wool grow long so the kids will have something to hold on to. Tonight it's matted in long dreadlocks. 'All you got to do is bear-hug it,' Vest is telling Stone. 'Just get a grip on 'em.' Stone, who seems more interested in fiddling with his sunglasses than discussing grip technique, soon wanders away to climb beneath the bleachers with another little boy. Mutton bustin' is the first notch in a cowboy's belt, says Vest, who is slim and broad-jawed with curly, reddish-blond hair. As he talks, he hooks his thumbs behind his own big belt buckle, which he won a few years back at a calf-roping competition. 'This is where you start,' he says. 'I always did sheep-riding. I have lots of mutton bustin' buckles.' Vest plays safety for the Texas Tech football team, so he doesn't have much time for rodeos anymore. But he sure would be glad if Stone got into it. That just might depend, Vest says, on whether Stone gets to ride tonight. Up in the bleachers, Neilly Busch, 6, is squeezing at a dusty scrape on her forearm, trying to make it bleed. 'She's a tough girl,' says her father, Rowlie Busch. Neilly and her older brother, Ridgewalker, rode in the first round of mutton bustin'. (At 9, Ridgewalker is technically too old to ride. This is one of the little secrets of mutton bustin' -- some kids who are too old or too heavy still end up on sheep.) They both got bucked pretty quickly. 'The sheep was like, 'Get off me!' ' Neilly says. 'He was kind of scary, but he was kind of cute.' From his spot in the top row of the risers, Rowlie can look down on the staging area, where the bull riders are getting ready. They're stretching out their hamstrings, wrapping tape tight around their hands, and throwing back cans of energy drink. A couple of them have knelt down in the dust to pray. 'Rodeo's a dying thing,' says Busch, who lives in Santa Fe. 'It's good to come out here and see the real deal. These are real cowboys.' The rodeo queen rides out, the national anthem is sung, and the announcer says he's going to lead a prayer. Everybody stands up, places their hats over their hearts and closes their eyes. When it's over, the announcer calls out the words everybody's been waiting for: 'Are you ready for rodeo on a Friday night?' The crowd responds with a roar. As the night wears on, rain clouds move in. The announcer breathlessly talks his way through the steer wrestling and saddle-bronc riding, and the crowd kicks back with popcorn, Indian tacos and Frito pies. For the uninitiated, the Frito pie is a favorite Southwestern snack of ground beef, chopped onions and loads of red and green and chiles piled on a bed of Fritos corn chips, sometimes served in the bag. Dominick Lopez, 5, is clutching his tummy. 'I've got a stomachache,' he says. 'Those are butterflies,' says cousin Manuel Cavanaugh -- an old hand at mutton bustin' at age 10. His advice for his cousin, who is wearing child-sized silver chaps, and for his friend Maureen Martin, 8, another first-timer: 'Just inhale and exhale.' Manuel, who has ridden the woolly beasts five times, tells the kids that he hung on best when he gripped the sheep's shoulders. But Maureen has a different technique in mind. 'I'm gonna grab it around the waist,' she says. Each kid wears a protective helmet, a vest, long pants and a long-sleeved shirt -- safety measures that were introduced a few years ago after one child who caught a hoof in the stomach had the air knocked out of him. As for the sheep, which weigh about 70 to 100 pounds each, organizers say they have never been harmed. But animal rights groups -- frequent critics of rodeo sports -- have condemned mutton bustin' as animal abuse. They've also called it child abuse. At tonight's rodeo, Maureen and Dominick's names are called and their parents hand them up to the platform next to the bull chutes, which rodeo hands have stuffed with bawling sheep. Neal, the organizer, is going from kid to kid, making sure each has the proper safety gear, when Sawyer Vest taps on her back. 'Excuse me, ma'am. You don't happen to have an extra spot?' he asks. 'Can we get Stone in? Stone Smith?' She looks at him for a long second and then bends down to Stone. 'Are you sure you want to ride?' she asks. The boy shakes his head no and then buries his face in his cousin's knees. 'Yes, he does,' Vest says. 'He does. He's been talking about it all day.' Jamie looks again at Vest, who is nodding his head earnestly and patting Stone on the head. 'OK,' she says. 'Get him ready.' Big drops of monsoon rain are starting to fall, and the wind is picking up from the south. The kids are getting lowered down, one by one, onto the sheep. 'Dominick Lopez!' the announcer cries, and out sprints a sheep carrying Dominick, his chaps flapping. He's so tiny and hangs on so well that the crowd of about 1,000 cheers him as loudly as they might a bull rider approaching his eighth second. When Dominick finally falls, he stands up right away and walks chin-up out of the arena. 'Maureen Martin!' the announcer calls out, and her sheep flies into the middle of the ring. As the sheep circles back, Maureen is still on top, her arms clutched around its belly. Her technique pays off: She stays on 10 seconds, longer than anyone else. Finally, it's Stone's turn. He looks at the sheep he's about to ride with quivering lips. Just before he gets lifted up, the rodeo hand stops him. 'No spurs,' the man shouts. The spurs are stripped from the boots and Stone is plunked onto the sheep. 'This is us right here, big dog!' Sawyer calls out to Stone. 'You got this.' The gate comes up and the sheep streaks out. Almost immediately, Stone rolls off onto the ground. He sits up, lets out a mouthful of dusty spit and starts to cry. Later, he poses for a photograph between his cousin and father, their hands on his shoulders. He's beaming. So are his father and Vest. Like every other mutton buster, he walks away with a belt buckle -- his first. The sheep are herded back to their pens for some feed and some peace. The bull riders fall to defeat or ride to glory. And the kids go home, to grow a little taller, and maybe try again.
Western Telegraph
20 hours ago
- Sport
- Western Telegraph
Kilgetty cyclist completes Le Loop's Tour de France route
Ceri Stone, from Kilgetty, took on the challenge once again as part of Le Loop, a charity ride that follows the exact course of the Tour de France, just one week ahead of the professionals. This year's route covered more than 3,500 kilometres and more than 55,000 metres of climbing over 21 days. Mr Stone, who grew up in Begelly and was educated at Pentlepoir CP and Greenhill Comprehensive, is believed to be the first person from Pembrokeshire to complete the feat. He said: "This year's tour was the toughest so far. "I put it down to two reasons: the first is that I was ill for the first three days of the event and regularly had to stop for comfort breaks in cornfields. "I don't know how I made it through those first few days. "I put it down to determination and resilience and also the fact that I have been so well supported by my sponsors that I could not let them down." Le Loop raises funds for the William Wates Memorial Trust, and this year's ride has already brought in £435,000. Mr Stone is a member of the Pembrokeshire Dragons Cycling Club and credits the club with helping him prepare for the challenge. He is also the author of Le Loop, How to Cycle the Tour de France, which tells the story of his 2019 ride. This year's route began in Lille on June 28 and was described as the toughest in more than 50 years. Only about half of the 50 riders who started the challenge completed every stage. Mr Stone said: "Despite all of this I somehow found an inner resolve to ensure that I made it to Paris, having cycled every single inch of the route. "I have now cycled 71 stages of the Tour de France, but I am pretty sure that is my last." At 58, Mr Stone celebrated his achievement with a glass of champagne in Paris, though he says he isn't ready to commit to riding the tour again just yet.
7NEWS
3 days ago
- Health
- 7NEWS
Major changes to blood and plasma donation rules announced for cancer survivors
Many cancer survivors will now be able to donate blood just 12 months after treatment, a significant drop from the original five-year wait time. The latest major rule change announced by Lifeblood comes after June's update that made it easier for gay and bisexual men to donate. A survey by the Kirby Institute of UNSW found more than half (54 per cent) of the population believed having cancer made them ineligible to give blood for life, while another 28 per cent were unsure. Lifeblood said this change, approved by the Therapeutic Good Association (TGA), will hopefully alter this misconception. Lifeblood executive director Cath Stone said the change would provide a greater opportunity for those who have had cancer to be able to give back. 'Cancer patients are the largest users of blood in Australia, they need 11,000 donations each week,' she said. 'Many cancer survivors have relied on blood transfusions and plasma medicines during chemotherapy or surgery, and we know many are eager to give back.' According to Lifeblood, 34 per cent of donated blood currently goes to people with cancer and blood diseases. Chemotherapy can deplete the body of platelets, an important clotting component in blood that helps prevent internal bleeding. Red blood cell infusions are also needed while bone marrow recovers and any surgery to remove cancer may also result in the need for infusions. A patient with acute leukaemia can use up to nine bags of platelets each month, with four donors needed to make each bag. Cancer also has a big impact on the immune system, making patients vulnerable to infections and needing plasma infusions. It is estimated more than 450 Australians will be diagnosed with blood cancer each day, with this number projected to double by 2035. Research by Lifeblood has found the previous five-year wait for cancer patients to donate can be safely reduced, with large-scale international studies having confirmed cancer is not transmissible through blood transfusion. 'As we see the number of cancer diagnoses increasing, we're also seeing an increase in the demand for blood to help cancer patients through their treatment,' Stone said. 'Supporting people with cancer is one of the greatest reasons to donate.'
Yahoo
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
'South Park' creators 'apologize' for latest Trump episode: 'We're terribly sorry'
SAN DIEGO – The day after one of the most controversial episodes in the show's history, 'South Park' creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone had a succinct response to the ruckus they caused. 'We're terribly sorry,' Parker said with a sly grin at a Comedy Central's Comic-Con animation panel next to Stone, 'Beavis and Butt-Head' honcho Mike Judge and 'Digiman' creator Andy Samberg. The Season 27 premiere of 'South Park' tore into President Donald Trump, showing him literally getting into bed naked with Satan, and referenced their Paramount bosses' settlement with the president, the '60 Minutes' flap and the surprise cancellation of CBS's "The Late Show with Stephen Colbert." All followed Wednesday by an agreement between Paramount and the 'South Park' creators for 50 new episodes and a lucrative new streaming deal on Paramount+. White House spokesperson Taylor Rogers slammed the episode in a statement to USA TODAY, calling "South Park" a "fourth-rate show" that "hasn't been relevant for over 20 years." When Comic-Con panel moderator Josh Horowitz joked that he had a subpoena with him, Parker responded, 'It's fine; we're ready.' Parker and Stone talked at length about the speed of today's topical comedy and making newsy jokes. 'It's not just 'SNL' anymore,' Stone said. Parker revealed that they were at their studios this morning trying to figure out next week's episode. 'Right now we don't know,' Parker said. 'It's super stressful.' And when working on the July 23 season premiere, 'three days ago I didn't know if anyone's going to like this,' Parker added. They were looking at newspapers and changing things on the fly right up until they needed to be done. As far as big ideas for the season go, 'my whiteboard's blank, dude,' Parker said. So much so that when they were asked to do a summer promo video hyping the new season, they made up a bunch of scenes just for that sizzle reel. 'You seriously think we went and made a bunch of shows ahead of time and banked them?' Then Stone chimed in, mock seriously: 'No politics. We're not doing any of that (stuff).' Stone said he feels most competitive with 'what the kids are doing on TikTok and YouTube.' In fact, he and Parker admitted they now get a lot of their entertainment online and from social media. 'We have a great gig, but I'm jealous. You see someone do something in their front yard and it's really funny.' Contributing: Brendan Morrow This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: 'South Park' creators 'apologize' for Trump episode at Comic-Con Solve the daily Crossword
Yahoo
7 days ago
- Health
- Yahoo
‘It most certainly is cheating': Readers debate using weight-loss jabs
After Telegraph columnist Allison Pearson revealed that she had lost almost three stone after a weight-loss jab helped her 'kick-start' the process, readers shared their own experiences taking Mounjaro. While some agreed with Pearson that the drug has been 'life-changing' and effectively silenced the 'food noise' that is often attributed to overeating, making it finally possible to lose weight, some argued that weight loss achieved through taking medication is, in fact, 'cheating'. This week, we asked you if you have ever thought about using a weight-loss injection, with the majority, 57 per cent of over 10,000 readers, responding that yes, they have. 'It's the Holy Grail' When the injections first became available, reader James Maclean's instant reaction was to believe 'that's cheating'. However, he reasons that 'so is having a fast metabolism, and the health benefits of losing weight can help millions of people avoid disease and low self-esteem, which shouldn't be sniffed at.' 'If it makes people happier and healthier, then it's great for everybody,' Mr Maclean concludes. For instance, Victoria Morgan, 77, started Mounjaro two months ago 'after reading DT readers' comments about being able to get it privately from pharmacies'. Ms Morgan shares she had been dieting since she was 10 years old and has done 'every diet known to mankind, from tapeworms and injections of pregnant horse urine to amphetamines and the more usual low-calorie or low-carb ones.' However, 'Mounjaro is the Holy Grail, the Philosophers' Stone which transmutes base metal into gold.' The reader explains how, within hours of taking the jab, she had the sensation of 'what normal people feel like', which consisted of normalised hunger and resulted in her lessening food portions. As for her weight loss, she is losing 'a healthy 1lb and a bit per week', but will continue as she has a 'long way to go yet from 15st 5lbs on a 5ft 4 inch frame'. 'But feeling that [normal hunger] is one of the greatest discoveries of medicine, with huge potential for good,' she says. Meanwhile, Andy Smyth*, 68, has been using Mounjaro since October, and shares that it has 'changed my life immeasurably for the better.' 'It means I can have a normal appetite like my wife and other people I know. I'm no longer thinking about food every minute of the day, and a normal meal leaves me feeling satisfied at last, a sensation not experienced in decades,' Mr Smyth explains. Like Victoria Morgan, Mr Smyth details how 'after 30 plus years of miserable yo-yo dieting, Mounjaro has helped me lose nearly 50lbs without any conscious dieting. I'm delighted that it will be available more widely.' 'Saved my life' An additional benefit of the weight-loss drug reported by two readers was that it reduced alcohol cravings. 'The most glorious benefit of Mounjaro is that it's removed my impulsive need to drink alcohol regularly. There is no revulsion towards it. Strangely, I simply forget that it exists,' Mr Smyth says. Similarly, Scott Adams's last sip of alcohol was on April 1, 2024. His first Mounjaro injection was on the afternoon of April 2, 2024. Mr Adams shares that before taking the drug, he 'was morbidly obese' and 'alcohol had taken control of my life'. He opted to go on the weight-loss injection as he had gone from someone who loved exercise, running marathons and participating in team sports, 'to a couch potato, barely able to walk a quarter mile without needing a taxi.' A year later, he is 'running again, at the gym multiple days per week' and reports feeling '20 years younger than my real age – this medication saved my life.' 'Steer clear of artificial remedies' Whilst many of our readers enthusiastically shared their success stories with Mounjaro, others felt that a more traditional or natural approach to losing weight was the best way forward. One reader said that he would 'steer clear of artificial remedies' such as Mounjaro and other weight-loss drugs. He concluded that a 'focus on personal responsibility' for what you eat and drink is a much 'safer bet'. Telegraph reader Michael Walker echoed this sentiment by emphasising the importance of self-belief and discipline: 'If you're obese, surely you need willpower to overcome it, rather than a jab.' Liz Harrison, from Gloucestershire, doesn't have the wherewithal to pay for jabs and instead took a different approach: 'I took the NHS Healthy Lifestyles route. I finish the 12-week course tomorrow and have lost 5lb. They offered exercise but, importantly, they also offered the psychological side.' One person had concerns about the effectiveness of Mounjaro once you stop using it. The Telegraph reader, who wished to remain anonymous, used the drug for five months but started to look 'gaunt' due to the amount of weight she lost – two stone. 'I went from a size 14 to a size 10. I had the misfortune to renew my passport photo and there it was in technicolour, my unsmiling face, sunken cheeks and dark rings under my eyes. That will haunt me for the next 10 years!' 'I stopped because I couldn't afford to lose more weight. No side effects. However, as soon as you stop, the weight comes back on. Of course it does,' the reader explains. She stresses that Mounjaro is an appetite suppressant and that 'without it, your appetite is not suppressed'. The reader also was disappointed by the lack of medical care offered when she was taking the drug. 'Apart from sending me stock emails about how to manage side effects, at no point in five months did any medical professional contact me to discuss how it was going contrary to the original selling point,' she says. The cost is also of concern. The reader spent £170 on each order and says 'people are paying a fortune for the drug just to be back in the same place six months after they stop'. 'Pumping yourself full of chemicals' Readers with other concerns include Mrs Jackson, who poses some questions: 'What happens if you stop the jabs? Do you have to use them for life, and does that have an increased risk?' She is worried that many people she knows have 'shrunk massively on this drug, but nobody stops using it'. 'Things that sound too good to be true sometimes are.' Davyd Melnyk argues that using the jabs 'is most certainly cheating,' but believes the real issue with them is 'what the ultimate long-term side effects might be.' And an anonymous reader agrees, 'it is cheating,' and proposes 'diet and exercise are the way to lose weight safely and efficiently. 'Pumping yourself full of chemicals is really just the easy way out.' * This person's name has been changed Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
