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THE RODEO

By Peter B. Taub

Orvon Autry may have gotten his start as an Oklahoma railroad telegraph operator, but gol darn if he didn't turn out to be America's Favorite Singing Cowboy. Good old Gene is back in the saddle all right--the latest round-up takes him to the Boston Garden for the 18th Annual World Championship Rodeo, which runs through Sunday (matinee championship performances over the weekend).

Strange as it may seem, the better parts of the current so-called extravaganza do not involve Mr. Autry. He breaks up the program nicely, coming on twice, in events number four and 11 (there are 14 altogether), and appearing just long enough to knock off a few songs, send his horse Champion and the up-and-coming Little Champion through their paces, and introduce a bunch of Pueblo, Indian dancers from New Mexico. Champion, a handsome animal, dances to the Army Air Corps song, "La Cucaracha," and "The Blue Danube" and bounds through a couple of hoops; Little Champion also makes with the hoops and walks along a narrow plank suspended a foot off the ground.

Next time, around, Autry lets loose with a fairly heterogeneous collection of songs. From his familiar theme, he goes through "Someday," "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," "Room Full of Roses," and "Ghost Riders in the Sky." In the last-named number, the arena is darkened, ultra-violent rays beam down on Gene's fluorescent shirt, and a herd of cattle parades across the floor.

The Indian dancers are reasonably interesting. Tony White Cloud (sic) leads them through the eagle, buffalo, war, horsetail, and hoop dances and Tony winds up revolving four hoops at once around various parts of his body. The costumes here are brilliant, but just how authentic White Cloud and his cronies are is anybody's guess.

As for the more dashing events on the bill, the bareback and saddle brone riding, calf roping, steer wrestling, and the wild brahma bull riding contests, they are fine while they last, but there is not enough of this real rodeo stuff and what there is of it is all too brief. It seems a pity to have a young man come all the way from Ysleta, Texas, and then work only eight seconds (the length of a time a contestant has to ride a brone bareback) an evening.

Maybe I'm a dude, but I'll be glad when the Olympics and Celtics take over the Garden. Hockey and basketball are just a little more exciting.

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