Welcome to The Team Roping Journal
This letter appears on page 8 of the first issue of The Team Roping Journal, which will hit your mailbox in the coming weeks.
As our staff worked to develop The Team Roping Journal—a brand new concept for the sport—we sought inspiration from magazines of all genres to see how editors of some of the country’s finest publications communicate with their readers. Taking one final glance for ideas for this letter, the smells of the cologne ads in GQ and the perfume ads of Glamour and Vogue really hit me. And while their editors didn’t provide me any insight to help me explain how we’re doing something never done before in this sport, those scents wafting off the pages sort of did.
If you could flip through the pages of this magazine and breathe deeply, I hope you’d smell the burning rubber on Paul Eaves’ horn when he won Laramie in the hot Wyoming sun (pg. 16), the bison-steak grilling on Bob Dineen’s back patio in Colorado (pg. 94) and the ShowSheen in the manes and tails of some of the finest horses in the business getting ready to compete in the $100,000 World Championship Rope Horse Futurity in Texas (pg. 82).
I’d like to think you can feel yourself riding out of the box like Luke Brown, hand on your horse’s neck, riding stride-for-stride going to the steer (pg. 66), and I hope you can close your eyes and imagine your position coming around the corner, setting up a shot like Ryan Motes (pg. 73).
Hopefully you can hear the crowd go wild in Salt Lake City when Tyler McKnight pulled back on that steer for $50,000 (pg. 24) and the announcer at the #11 Reno Million declare that a married couple just won $200,000 (pg. 91). This magazine sure won’t smell like GQ, but I think it feels a whole lot more like home.
We’ve worked tirelessly to create essential reading for everyone who swings a rope or loves someone who does. While Spin To Win Rodeo and Super Looper will no longer come to your door, I think what we’ve designed to replace them will more than fill the void. Whether you’re sitting down to read this magazine in between meetings in town or browsing through it in the passenger seat headed to the Northwest to try your luck at Pendleton, Ellensburg and Puyallup, I think you’ll find something relatable in these 160 pages. And if you don’t, well, you’re allowed to argue with the flagger here, so shoot me a note at email@example.com.