I’ve known people who’ve met their sports idols and been disappointed. The words rude, tacky and arrogant were used to describe these experiences. It’s sad to think that if you finally got the chance to meet someone you look up to, you might be faced with the reality that there’s really nothing there to admire once you take away his or her God-given athletic ability.

In a world where genuine sports role models are, let’s face it, difficult to come by, I’m proud to say that barrel racing’s current world champion is a truly nice person.

I’ve interviewed Sherry Cervi on a couple of occasions, but I didn’t know what to expect when I called her and proposed that she write a monthly column for Barrel Horse News. I was surprised when her main concern seemed to be whether or not she could do a good job, whether the readers of our magazine could actually take something away from her column. Never did she ask about the publicity she’d get in return or express how difficult it would be to take time out of her busy schedule to do it. In my opinion, she reacted the way a genuine champion—one who knows she’s a role model whether she asked for it or not—should.

Then, when she delivered her first World Champion’s Perspective column for our February issue, I was very pleased. Her humanity was there in her words, and it underlined the fact that, even though she’s won $2 million, Sherry retains the same fears and doubts that the rest of us have.

I wouldn’t hesitate to introduce any young barrel racer in my life to Sherry for fear he or she would be disappointed. I expect they’d be greeted by a kind smile, respectful demeanor and genuine appreciation for their admiration.

I’m so glad that barrel racing has a humble, non-pretentious and classy person like Sherry representing us as world champ. How many sports can say that?

If you ever have the chance to visit Martha and R.E. Josey’s ranch in Karnack, Texas, take it! I recently had the opportunity and came away feeling much cooler for having done so.

Martha was kind enough to invite Barrel Horse News General Manager Donna Johnston, some other members of the press and me into her home for a little party and ranch tour commemorating the 2010 Josey Jr World Championships. When Donna and I arrived a little early, Martha had us come on into the house anyway, even though she was still in her sock feet. Right away, I got the impression that this living legend was one unflappable chick.

As the day went on, we had the opportunity to explore Martha’s home, including her brand new bathroom addition that features a gianormous stone soaking tub, wet bar and four closets (one closet, according to Martha, for her everyday clothes, one for her rodeo clothes, one for her NBHA clothes and one for her “going to funerals that are not mine” clothes).

Every room in the Josey house, including the deluxe master bath, had something in it of historic interest—buckles, trophies, paintings, pictures—some dating from the 1950s. Yet there was nothing in the home that made you feel as if you were in a time warp. Beautifully decorated and vibrant, the house, like the Joseys themselves, was lit up by life. It is the house of a couple of “do-ers,” not a couple of “remember when-ers.”

I found the grounds of Josey Ranch to have the same past-meets-present quality. Each barn is named after one of the Joseys’ great horses of the past, but Martha is quick to point out her current horses in her own personal paddock, as well. Martha’s grandmother, from whom she inherited the ranch, is still a presence thanks to some original buildings on the property and pictures, but everywhere we turned, there were batches of young barrel racers warming up, talking, enjoying the summer camp-like atmosphere the ranch offers.

In short, I found the whole Josey set up to be quite inspiring.

But the most important conclusion I came to after our day at Josey Ranch is that Martha Josey is pretty darn awesome. Young barrel racers, take note—I’m about to give you some valuable insight. It seems to me that people are always looking, hoping, waiting for the next great barrel racer, ala Martha Josey or Charmayne James. I can tell you that with Martha, and with Charmayne as well, there is more to their longevity than the sum total of their NFR appearances or great horses. Those blessings were just the starting point. After spending the day with Martha herself, I believe that the true keys to her long-lasting career are her business acumen and the fact that she treats the people around her with respect.

There is not one piece of Martha’s business empire that has not been carefully crafted and well thought out. From her Western store to her RV hook ups, she considered what her customers—her barrel racers—needed and would respond to, and she’s given it all to them. Smart. Very Smart.

I can also attest to the fact that Martha treated everyone in her orbit that day with kindness. Her down-to-earth attitude, friendliness and wicked sense of humor put everyone at ease. I honestly wanted to have lunch, get my nails done and go on a shopping spree with her. Anytime you treat others with that kind of respect and openness, they will pay more attention to what you do and say.

Martha knows this, and that is why she’s become so important to the industry and is so treasured as an icon. When Martha speaks up in that soft Texas drawl, people listen.

If anyone ever asks me what Martha Josey is like, I can tell them without hesitation that she rocks. She rocks as a barrel racer, a businesswoman and as a person.

All you up-and-coming legends, watch and learn.

When you do what I do—interview horse people—for a living, there are a few phrases that you hear over and over again.

“That horse gave me everything he had.”
“He’s just an honest, good horse.”
“She’s a once-in-a-lifetime horse.”

These sentiments have been expressed to me by everyone from world champions to weekend warriors, from backyard owners to leading breeders, and I know each of them sincerely means what they’re saying. After all, that admiration for horses, and in particular an admiration for our own horses, is what makes a true horseperson.

Since this is my first blog, and if you’re reading this there’s a good chance you know/love a horse, I thought I’d introduce myself by telling you about the honest, good, once-in-a-lifetime horse who gave ME everything she had.

I was 10 years old when my dad and I went to the local auction in El Paso, Texas (my hometown), searching for nothing in particular and that needle in the haystack (a good kid’s horse) at the same time. My situation was pretty typical. I’d outgrown my pony, Josie, and needed a bigger, safe riding horse.

When I saw Sunshine for the first time, I don’t remember being particularly fascinated by her looks. She was just a plain little sorrel mare, about 14 hands tall. Her mane had been roached, and she had worn places in her hair at the saddle’s girth line and along her withers.

It was obvious that she had been not just ridden, but “rode.”

She belonged to a tough-looking, tank-top-wearing woman whose first name was Paula. Paula let me try Sunshine out, and as I did so, my dad and I learned that the unregistered mare was only 4 years old, had been working on a ranch in New Mexico, had barrel raced and had been used as a roping horse. Paula judged her too small to actually do any good as a header or heeler, however, and, looking back, I think that was the real reason she was selling her.

Truthfully, nothing Paula said mattered much. By the time I’d ridden Sunshine around her stall for about four and half minutes, I was in love. You know the kind of love I’m talking about—that protective, giddy love you feel when you think you’ve found the perfect horse.

My poor dad was in trouble. He gamely offered Paula $600 for the mare if she didn’t run her through the auction. Paula gamely refused the offer.

On to Plan B.

We signed up for a number and found a perch in the auction house. The first half of the night went by in a blur. And then I have a clear flash of memory—I can still close my eyes and see it—the auction door came up and Paula rode in on Sunshine. As my dad patiently waited until the last minute to bid (a strategy which, by the way, I strongly disagreed with at the time), I tried to keep from throwing up. My whole life was riding on this!

Finally, after what felt like six days, the bidding settled at $400—and Paula hesitated. To this day, I can picture her standing there, looking from the auctioneer to my calm-and-collected dad and back again.

After I few seconds of this, I began to prepare myself for the inevitable. She wasn’t going to sell her. I was halfway resigned to that fact when Paula started loosening Sunshine’s girth. Shoving her hands up underneath the blanket, she pulled the saddle off.

“They stole her,” she announced to the auction house.

Being so young, I didn’t even consider that the women’s indignation might be about money. What was money? I really thought she was upset about losing what I was, by then, absolutely convinced was the best horse in the world.

I remember breaking away from my dad as he stopped to talk to friends and barreling down the auction steps to where Paula still stood at the side of the arena. I looked up through the fence bars and into her tanned face. She didn’t say anything, so I did.

“I promise I’ll take good care of your horse,” I said.

There was a long pause, and then she actually put her big hand over mine and squeezed.

“I know you will,” she said softly.

If I could talk to Paula today, I’d tell her two things: 1. I kept my promise. There was never a horse that was more loved then the mare I nicknamed “Shiny.”

And 2. Thank you.

Almost every good memory of my childhood can be related back to my $400, plain sorrel, grade mare. She was an angel in horse’s clothing. She saw me through childhood changes, teenage confusion and adult heartbreak. Her neck caught my tears as I struggled to fit in at a new junior high school and as I struggled with my grandparents’ deaths.

She was quirky and wonderful, full of energy and competitiveness—the best friend I ever had in my young life.

I lost Shiny a couple of summers ago. Honestly, I can’t describe how much it hurt to walk out to the pasture for the first time and not see her there. (Or maybe, as a horseperson, you know exactly what I’m talking about without me having to describe it.)

I will say now that I am fortunate to write about horses for a living. And I think Shiny is the reason why I do what I do and love what I do. I take her with me into each interview, and there’s a piece of her in each story I construct. I know how people feel when the say they love/miss/appreciate their horses. It’s a huge gift that Shiny gave me.

If you keep up with this blog, you’ll read a lot about horses. Horses are, to me, the most interesting aspect of barrel racing and of any equine endeavor. I am a fan of the animal.

I can’t wait to share the behind-the-scenes horse stories that I am fortunate to see and hear about as a Barrel Horse News staff person.

So, this one is for the horses and for Shiny, in particular. Aren’t we lucky to have them in our lives?