In my long career as an aggie journalist and columnist, it’s been my privilege to be ringside at hundreds of livestock shows at county fairs, state fairs, regional and state-wide junior livestock shows, and jackpot shows for all livestock species.
At many of the shows, I took pictures of the winners with cameras ranging from twin-lens reflex, big ol’ decrepit press cameras with flash bulbs, 35-millimeter single lens cameras with flash units, clear up to smart phone point and shoot cameras.
While gaining all that livestock show experience, I also witnessed a lot of just plain humorous things that happened at the shows. I can still recall a lot of them, so this column’s theme is “livestock show chuckles.”
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I think funniest thing I ever saw in a livestock show ring happened decades ago at the now-defunct Muskogee State Fair at Muskogee, Okla.
It happened in the market lamb show. Since southeast Oklahoma at the time was not a hot-bed for sheep production, the market sheep show was one big class — all breeds and all weights together.
The entrants ranged from squatty Southdowns to tall, lanky Suffolks and everything in between. The weights probably went from 175 pounds to 60 pounds. Some were smooth-shorn down to the pink hide and others with 4-inches of unkempt wool.
The poor judge wuz actually a beef cattle guy who got thrust into judging the sheep show. Needless to say, the judge had his hands full. But he put on a serious face and dug into the class.
It took him quite a while of handling, sifting and sorting, but he finally ended up with a motley up-and-down lineup with little obvious rhyme nor reason to it.
At long last, he sighed and gave an arm motion to the ring clerk with a tablet to record the ribbon winners, and said something like “Well, there’s your lineup.”
That’s when the bewildered clerk inquired, “Which end of the line is your champion?”
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Another funny thing that I recall also wuz in the sheep show at an county fair that will remain unnamed to protect the guilty.
It wuz in the sheep showmanship contest with the senior, intermediate, and junior showmanship winners competing for the grand championship. Interestingly enough, the three contestants were siblings. Big brother wuz the senior winner. His younger sisters were the other two.
Big bro had a Suffolk lamb that was dead-broke to the show ring. He parked it at the head of the show lineup and then squatted down on his haunches in the middle of the ring, while casually holding his lamb’s chin in his left hand.
The judge wuz handling and examining his sister’s lambs while assessing the girls’ showmanship skill and tactics, when all of a sudden for no apparent reason, big bro’s lamb exploded like a 125-pound wooly jack-o-lantern and upturned big bro in an instant. By reflex, he managed to grab a rear leg of his lamb as it careened over the top of him. It then proceeded to drag him unceremoniously through the show ring wood shavings.
Of course, the crowd around the ring roared with laughter, including the judge. But, as you’d expect, no one laughed louder or longer than the unfortunate teen’s younger sisters.
The championship ribbon went to a grinning-ear-to-ear sister.
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Through the decades, I’ve witnessed the literal ups-and-downs of what size and shape of critters earn grand champions. Cattle went from short and squatty to tall, lean and lanky, then back to the middle. Sheep went from small white-faced champs to large black-faced champs. Hogs went through a phase when free-moving was adjudged to be a better trait than meaty.
It wuz during that phase of market hog judging that I saw the judge pull a funny. It wuz at a regional fair’s market hog show. The entrants were all free-moving meatless wonders. The judge clearly was not enamored by the direction the swine industry wuz going.
So, after the first class of barrows, the judge said, “You might have noticed that I only considered a profile side-view of the barrows in this class. That’s because they disappeared when I tried to look at them head-on or from the rear.”
He then opined, “I’ve never eaten’ free-moving’ in my life. Hogs are grown for bacon and ham.” He then proceeded select barrows that had meat in them and the skinny free-moving hogs went to the bottom of all classes. I think that judge changed the direction of hog production because gradually the winners morphed into free-moving meatiness.
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One time at a nameless county fair, the market steer show wuz held in a small, poorly-lit show ring. It wuz crowded. It wuz hot. The youngsters were having a tough time getting a line-up the judge could judge.
That’s when he called a loud time-out. He said, “We’ve got a mess here. So, I’m going to walk over to the concession stand and get me a tall iced tea. When I come back, I expect to see an orderly lineup.”
He did just that. And the kids responded by getting the show ring in a line-up the judge could evaluate.
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Another time at a nameless county fair, the market classes were by breed, not weight. The Hereford class had an excellent looking steer that quite clearly showed Simmental traits. The judge questioned the validity of the steer’s genetics and the owner swore it wuz a full-blood Hereford.
The judge never questioned the owner again. He simply placed the steer at the bottom of the class with the cryptic comment that it didn’t have enough Hereford breed character.
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I could go on and on, but it’s time to end this column with these words of wisdom: “It’s a lot easier to get older than it is to get wiser.” Have a good ‘un.
