Source: https://stories.californiasunday.com/201...

Before his ride, Kimzey does his dance, then hops on his bull, Bottle Rocket, and rosins up his rope in the yellow chutes. The fireworks go off, the crowd screams, and he nods his head. The second the gate swings open he begins to bounce. First left, then right. His magic stillness seems gone. Five or six seconds in, he flops violently to the side and off the bull. Bottle Rocket goes at him horns first. Dust rises from the dirt floor, obscuring the attack. “He got gut-shot!” yells the announcer. “The hind leg of that bull hit him right in the guts!” The bull trots off. Kimzey stays down. From up in row Q, it doesn’t look good.

Jennifer’s hands go to her mouth. She catches her breath. Then, slowly, her son stands up, brushes off some dirt, and walks away in his lucky boots.