You see me limping and you ask why
And I might tell you the tale
But you wouldn't believe how a 40 oz bird
Could put a man through hell.

It happened last summer in San Angelo
The sun came up hot and low
To the rodeo grounds we all headed
To see the summer's best show.

The rumor was that the centerpiece
Of the festival in town
Was a fantastic competition
Pitting sinew against down.

Team roping pairs from across the west
Would gather near 'bout noon
To set their gear and get their draw
And with other teams commune.

The game was roping but the opponent here
Was not your average calf
In fact the villain in the ring
Would lead the crowd to laugh.

Big old birds with names like Devil
or Jalapeño Joe
Would be the roping targets
Of this ChickenTeam Roping Rodeo.

Now, just like cattle, the fiercest birds
Were given names of fame
Cholula Chuy and Firebrand
or even Red Hot Flame.

But the worst of all was a Rhode Island Red
That went by the name of Boudin
The rumor was that this devil bird
Would nibble on rocks and sand

Boudin, they said, was mean as a coyote
This rooster could never be beat
His spurs were sharp and his fearsome stare
Would make even wolves retreat.

Any team that drew Boudin in the ring
Would surely fail to win
The Chicken Roping title
And its belt buckle of tin.

But this year, they said, the Red would fall
The bird would meet his match
For a team roping pair from the south came up
The title they planned to catch.

The team from the south was known through the west
With a header of legend bold
El Pollo Charro, the famous vaquero,
and his heeler, Pancho Joe.

We were all excited and ready to see
This cowboy of western renown
For El Pollo Charro, the famous vaquero,
We knew would not let us down.

But some trouble had sprung up with Pancho Joe
Seems the sheriff had put him in jail
Missing his child support payments again
And no money to float his bail.

Seems El Pollo Charro, the famous vaquero,
Would not be roping this day
Without Pancho Joe how could he go?
His team was one teammate away.

We threw back our hats and shook our heads
How would this cowboy compete?
Seemed like Boudin would once again
Scratch his way clear of defeat.

But then to our shock and surprise
El Pollo Charro called out
Is there a cowboy here whose arms are strong
And whose heart is not filled with doubt?

For as we had hoped, this famous roper
Had drawn Boudin for the contest
But he needed a heeler, a steady hand,
Without any fear in his chest.

He scanned the crowd and settled on me
I'm not sure why I drew his gaze
But he motioned to me and gave me a nod
And soon I was on my way.

We stood in the pit and I handled my rope
And my face was covered with sweat
But El Pollo Charro, that famous vaquero,
His brow was not even wet.

We knew the rules and had seen the others
Make common mistakes that day
Like letting the chicken touch your leg
Or knocking your partner out the way

But El Pollo Charro, that famous vaquero,
Just stared towards the gate
Waiting for Boudin to make his entrance
And step into his fate.

My palms were sweaty for I knew the tales
Of that rooster named Boudin
And cowboys he'd injured along the way
He’d made them eat dirt and sand.

But El Pollo Charro, that famous vaquero,
Was calm as the bird took his place
The gate was opened and crowd fell hushed
And he looked me square in the face.

Hombre, he said, just don't leave my side,
The chicken has fear in his eyes
But I didn't see it, I just saw the spark
And Boudin charged with surprise!

El Pollo Charro, that famous vaquero,
Leapt into the air
No touch, no foul, the judges called out
El Pollo Charro landed with care.

Boudin turned and made for me
I dove to side with a shout
El Pollo Charro saw his chance
And threw his lasso out.

I landed on the cap of my knee
And my face wound up in the sand
I was leaned over on all fours
And Boudin was eyeing my can

He started to charge and I knew I was toast
His spurs would find their mark
And I'd be in pain for a month or more
With bruises purple and dark.

The crowd stood up and laughed and jeered
They could see what was coming my way
But El Pollo Charro, that famous vaquero,
Let loose with the throw of the day!

It seemed to me that time slowed down
As I saw that rope leave his wrist
The noose hit its mark on the neck of that bird
And I saw Boudin start to twist.

What happened next is a mystery to me
But somehow I managed a throw
As Boudin spun around and tried to break free
I caught him and couldn't let go!

The judges ran in and called it a match
And I held fast to my snare
And El Pollo Charro, that famous vaquero,
Stared down at Boudin with a glare.

Well done, Amigo, he said to me
And I let loose of my rope
I held my knee and cleared my throat
Not wanting to sound like a dope.

No sweat, I said, it's what I do.
He looked at me, then turned
And El Pollo Charro, that famous vaquero,
Reached down and picked up the bird.

I watched him as he walked away
With Boudin tucked under his arm
He gave the crowd a hearty wave
And took his cheers with charm.

Staggering to my feet, I stood
And called out to the man
Via Con Dios, El Pollo Charro!
I am your number one fan.

He turned to me and raised the bird
As the cheers rained down from the crowd
Via KFC! he called to me
And I knew where that chicken was bound.

Chicken Team Roping is not for the meek
It can be a pain in the rear
But if El Pollo Charro looks your way
Cleanse your heart of all fear!

And if the chicken you draw in the contest
Is the descendant of Boudin
Stay on your feet and dry your palms
And throw as best you can!