In the end, all roads lead to team roping…
By Gerry Gesell
Growing up, our summers were spent running wild and getting into trouble at the quarter horse shows in San Antonio, Texas. Mom was showing a lot back then, and two of her biggest shows were the Two Ring Circuit and the Summer Circuit. Both shows were two weeks long. I was 12 years old the summer I was given my first rope, and I spent hours roping the dummy in the aisle way between stall rows during one of the two week long shows. Thomas Saunders gave us that rope and all I remember was how stiff it was — most likely not the rope for learning. Mom kept that rope for as long as I can remember; I kept the memories.
A few years would go by before I had any interest in the horses or anything to do with them. Growing up, we didn’t own our horses. Mom was a full-time trainer and every horse in the barn was a client horse and off limits to us kids. Besides, none of them were roping horses, so any interest in roping was spawned from a bale of coastal hay with the ever popular black plastic steer head stabbed in the always valuable bale of hay. We were not encouraged to rope or follow any path of rodeo that required horses, simply because we could not afford it. Horses were not a luxury we could afford. I roped a million and one steers in the front yard or at the barn and we damn sure got our money’s worth out of that plastic head and no telling how many bales of hay we whittled down. It wasn’t until the first summer out of high school when we had our first horse to rope off of. My brother found him somewhere and we didn’t own him. We simply had to feed him and take care of him. We kept him down the road at a tie-down steer roper’s place. Brad Boegner was his name and he had the patience of Job. The horse we had was not exactly a bad horse; he was a pickup horse that belonged to a rodeo company east of San Antonio. That horse had more patience than Mr. Boegner and Job put together. Of course, like any “good” horse deal, it didn’t last long. I was working too much and making too little money and whatever deal my brother had made to keep and use the horse didn’t pan out. Not long after that, I would go to work just a little bit further down the road from the steer roper, and that would set my life on a path with horses that still influences me today. But the roping bug would always follow.
That was the year I went to work at a polo farm. I would set aside any interest in team roping and my focus would be on polo and learning how to train polo ponies. I was setting down the rope and picking up the polo mallet. Honestly, one doesn’t stray too far from the other in many respects. The better you make your horses, the better you become. And at some point, you will spend every last dime you have to do one or the other. Those days were long and I was learning a lot. Working for the Waymans set me apart from my friends, who were rodeoing and generally having fun living that life. I could only hold out for so long before I was trying to do it all. I was trying to ride saddle bronc horses when I could and occasionally turn a steer or two on a borrowed horse. Of course, I was doing this under the radar. My mentor Billy Wayman, the man I was working for, always lectured me on rodeoing and how I couldn’t make a living doing any of it — and I damn sure couldn’t train a polo pony with a broken neck or a missing thumb. With all that being said, Mr. Billy and I spent lots of evenings watching the Mesquite Rodeo, or whatever rodeo we could find on the TV, and we shared every copy of the Pro Rodeo Sports News. Before long, I was packing up and headed to Southern California, where I would soon be playing polo and starting young horses. The place I would be living had one of the neatest roping arenas I have seen, even to this day.
It was dark when I arrived at the rancho where I would be living and riding my horses. I couldn’t see much except for the lights in the barn, and I was too tired to even explore my surroundings. The next morning I got up early and went to the barn to check on horses and throw hay. I walked across the place and when I saw the arena, I was blown away. This roping arena was dug into the ground and the sides were walls of thick lumber. You walked down into it from the roping boxes. The arena light poles were flanked by tall date palms. This was the fanciest roping arena I had ever seen and not a steer in sight! I had plenty of horses to ride — they ranged from two-year-olds I was to start, to young horses I was to train, and even a couple of made polo horses that I would be playing. And, to my surprise, a couple of big, stout, out-of-shape geldings that had been roped off of at some point in their life. Of course, I threw them into my program just in case I got the itch and we happened to get some steers. I wasn’t thinking about the fact that I would also need a roping partner. This was the winter I decided that I hated team roping. We ended up needing help with all the horses and they hired a guy who had cowboyed around and also roped, and we did end up getting some steers. The hired help liked to sleep in late and start drinking early, and the steers were longhorns that had no interest in being roped. All of it was short lived and I decided to quit before I lost a thumb or my dignity.
After my California stint, I worked around the west — cowboying, playing polo, and trying to figure out what to do with my life with horses. While I was living way up north, I was offered a job way down south, in Catarina, Texas. Was this finally to be my time to learn to rope? This job would be THE job to satisfy my urge to learn to rope and be a team roper. I packed my things and headed back to Texas. I would spend time riding with Mom before making my commitment to work in South Texas. Our horse shoer and family friend, Tom Melton, had suggested the job and recommended me for it and all I had to do was show up. Fate stepped in and I was faced with a choice — I had been offered a good job in the polo world. As much as I wanted to work for George, I wanted to train polo ponies more. I had invested a lot of time and experience in polo and it was the best decision for me and my future life with horses. In the end, I would eventually sell a really nice mare to George. In a way, a part of me ended up down there anyway. And we all know what George Strait has done for the roping industry. The George Strait Team Roping breathed new life into the Rose Palace, where we spent those hot summers roping the dummy, and gave a big leg up to the team roping industry.
I could spend a lot of words going down memory lane and talking about my journey in and out of the roping arena, but I want to get to my point about team roping. I mentioned that all roads lead to team roping, but it’s more than that. Where do we go when everything else ends? What do we do when we “retire” from other equine endeavors or careers? What do we do with a cow horse, cutting horse, or ranch gelding when it’s time for a new career or they just don’t quite cut it in their respective equine discipline? Instinctively, any horse trainer that has ever been behind or chased a bovine critter will lean towards the roping side of things. There are a lot of elements in horses trained up to this point that appeal to a rope horse career, and all the pressures of a trainer’s life can be washed away with the turn of or the stretching out of a few steers. When we are done ranching and move to town, we can have a little place for our horses and a pen of steers and an arena that’s easier to maintain than 100 sections of rough country and cattle that don’t want to be roped. We can load up that cutter that didn’t work out and maybe heel a few on him before getting on that big gelding and heading a few for someone who heels better than you. Team roping is everywhere and with the number system, it’s good for everybody. And, if you need the practice, there are plenty of jackpots during the week and I can almost promise you that you have a neighbor with an arena and some steers.
When we decide it’s time to slow down and enjoy our horses and friends and to try something that’s been there all along, grab a few good ropes, load up your horses, and throw a dart at the map — because all roads lead to team roping.
Team roping is one of the most accessible and welcoming disciplines in western sports, with a handicap number system that levels the playing field for competitors of every skill level, weekly jackpots available across the country, and the ability to use horses from virtually any western discipline including ranch horses, cutters, and reiners. It is the sport that horsemen naturally gravitate toward at every stage of their career.
The number system in team roping is a handicap classification system that assigns each competitor a number based on their skill level, allowing ropers of different abilities to compete fairly against each other. It makes team roping accessible for beginners while still being competitive at the highest levels.
Gerry Gesell is a San Angelo, Texas based horse trainer, leatherworker, and cowboy with decades of experience training everything from polo ponies to cow horses. He hosts the podcast Gerry Gesell: There Is Always Something to Chase, where he shares stories of the cowboy lifestyle, horses, and western fashion.
Team roping is an ideal discipline for horses transitioning from other western disciplines because the skills required, including stopping, turning, and working off the hindquarters, translate naturally from ranch work, cutting, and reining. Many horsemen find that horses trained in other disciplines make excellent rope horses with proper development.
Getting started in team roping begins with developing solid horsemanship fundamentals including stopping, bending, and flexibility before focusing heavily on the rope. Finding a local jackpot, joining a team roping association like ACTRA or WSTR, and working with an experienced coach are the best ways to enter the sport at any age or skill level.
