When the fair comes to town it brings with it countless stories. One of those stories involves a rodeo.
Romulo Campos was one of the few bull riders to last the entire duration: 8 seconds.
That is the ultimate goal for the sport. The rider has to stay atop a 1,600-pound bull as it rages around a small ring. Most the riders at the Chenango County Fair’s Throw Down Rodeo lasted a little more than half that.
Once your 8 seconds are up, all you have to do is fall off the bull, avoid the spastic kicks and horn thrusts, get on your feet and climb over the nearest fence as quickly as you can.
I met Campos only a few moments after he climbed over the rodeo fence, behind him a man in a bright red shirt ran by and an enormous bull roared past after him. The grandstand crowd cheered.
Romulo dusted off his cowboy leathers and jeans, he casually glanced over his shoulder.
As he removed a bright yellow helmet with a metal face mask and a regulation-required reinforced body vest, I asked him if what he did was hard.
“No, I love it, so no,” he said with a proud smile.
He waved his hand in the air at the ridiculous notion of having been asked.
He slapped on his cowboy hat, then with a reluctant shrug and grin, he admitted, “Sometimes.”
Romulo told me he’s been riding bulls for 20 years, and was introduced to the sport by his family when he was 5-years old and living in Brazil. In his two decades of experience he’s traveled all over North America, and on occasion, to world-wide competitions. He’s won several state competitions and was winner of the Double M Rodeo in Baston Spa, New York, for three consecutive years.
When I met him in Chenango County, he was wearing a large brass belt buckle, a trophy emblazoned with the words, “Double M Champion.” He wore it for good luck, and judging from his performance at the fair, it seemed to work.
He then told me of his greatest accolade, “I got scratched a couple times, but I never broke nothing.”
When he’s not competing Romulo practices by riding unbroken horses. He said he had a favorite practice horse, one that seemed un-tamable for riding. I asked how it compared to the bulls.
“It’s a very rough ride, you don’t get off, you have to jump off. Good practice,” he said.
Another bull rider, Danny Scavon, from the Syracuse area, came over to talk with us as he prepared to ride in the next round.
He has been competing in rodeos for the last three years and he and Romulo became friends only a month earlier.
In 2015 Danny was the Alaskan State Champion, and he’s also traveled across the U.S. to compete.
He explained the rodeo season was in full-swing.
“If you want to do it and your willing to drive 3 or 5 hours you’ll have 20 shows to pick from each week, Monday through Saturday,” he said.
Danny hasn’t been as lucky with injuries. In the last 36 months, he broke his tibia (lower leg bone) and suffered other less severe injuries, such as torn muscles and cuts. He pulled up one of his sleeves to reveal a long scar that ran from his wrist toward his elbow.
I watched as Danny rode the bull in the next round. Unfortunately, Chenango became the latest place for him to suffered an injury.
The process of even getting on a one ton, territorial animal can be a delicate operation.
The prepared bulls are funneled into a tight lane of fencing that forces them to line up in a single column between the metal frames. The lane leads to a space just big enough for one bull at a time. One side of this space is actually a latched gate, it swings wide open and releases the confined bull.
As the bull was held in the gate, Danny climb over the fence and mounted it from above. The bull snorted and stomped its feet constantly. At least 2 or 3 other handlers are helping the rider at this stage. They offer a hand to grasp, in-case he slips while trying to control the bull, and when he’s ready they release the gate.
Coming out of the gate can be one of the most precarious seconds in starting a ride. Probably less than a nanosecond after the bulls are released they start bucking and swinging.
The bull Danny was on decided to throw itself back at the fenced area instead of heading out into the ring. I could see Danny’s leg get caught between the fence and the bull, a half second later the animal sensed the vulnerability and applied its full leverage to the action. Danny’s leg got crushed and caught, and he was painfully pried off.
It all took less than a couple of seconds. 
Danny fell to the ground and was underneath the bull longer than he was on it. Several members of the rodeo rushed in to distract the animal, giving Danny a chance to escape.
As he tried to run you could see him holding his leg in excruciating pain. The announcer asked if he was alright. Danny let go of his leg, stood at attention, smiled over at the crowd and gave a thumbs-up, almost like it never happened.
As the crowd cheered the announcer chimed back in. “He says he’s fine, folks.”
But as he headed out of the ring though, Danny laid down on the ground for several minutes as others tried to comfort him and check for serious injuries.
He limped past me and he shook his head, “I think I tore it again. Maybe next time.”
Walking out of the rodeo I saw Romulo standing with his fellow riders. I asked him if he’d like to say anything in the paper to our local community.
“We are glad to be here,” he said loudly, motioning to a group of cowboys nearby. Some even tipped their hats, including the injured rider who was sprawled against the fence.
“Tell them, we hope they enjoyed the show.”

Tyler Murphy Photo. Top:Bull rider Danny Scavon, 2015 Alaskan Champion, prepares for his next ride