Distinctly Montana Magazine

22 D I S T I N C T LY M O N TA N A M A G A Z I N E • S U M M E R 2 0 2 6 INVENTS A NEW SPORT INVENTS A NEW SPORT OLD BROKE RANCHER BY GARY SHELTON by GARY SHELTON I HOPE THIS DOESN'T BURN ANY BRIDGES BETWEEN US, DEAR READER, BUT I NEVER WAS MUCH OF A SPORTS GUY. When I was a kid, I was a scrawny little sawbuck with arms like cooked spaghetti and an attitude which you couldn't call "good." Nobody wanted me for first pick on their team, whether for baseball, basketball, football, or anything that required you to throw, catch, slide, skate or run. If it were a competition for falling over or being rejected at the school dance, I might have fared better. This morning, inspecting myself in the mirror, it occurs to me that I might have had a decent career as a sumo wrestler, had that noble sport ever made any inroads in the Treasure State. And fishing? Give me a break. Fishing's not a sport. At least not the way I do it. Anyway, that's why I never developed an affinity for the sport- ing life. Well, no great loss. But what I am sadder to have missed out on is being a sports fan. It looks like fun. There are hats, and the food seems tasty. Plus, I have a truck, and I'm capable of making a hamburger in a parking lot, so tailgating sounds ap- pealing. Hell, I've even got buns and ketchup and pickles. What I'm lacking is the excuse. Plus, I'm a guy who likes a hat. I've got dozens. I've got one that says "Time to pull over and change the air in your head" on it. That one's my favorite. I've got one that says "Big Bill's Feed and Seed." Who is Big Bill? Don't remember. I've got three that say John Deere, a museum in miniature to the evolution of their logo. I've even got a navy blue cap that says USS Montana and has a picture of the ship. Though I've had it forever, I'm not sure where I got it from. I didn't serve on the ship as far as I can re- member… Now, what I haven't got is a hat with a sports team on it. And that means that I'm denied access to that wonderful world of ham- burgers and hot dogs made in trucks, of a day drinking beers all day on the asphalt, intermittently interrupted by a shouting match or a fist fight. Why oh why wasn't I born a sports fan! And don't say, "Why not become a fan of college ball, support your old alma mater MSU?" No, absolutely not. Not until I'm finally given that honorary doctorate. THE OLD BROKE RANCHER INVENTS A NEW SPORT ROBERT RATH

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