The Texas Cup

                               Texans in Tights

                                                     

    I was wetting my whistle at my favorite watering hole, telling the boys about being sent to Taos to cover some thing called the Texas Cup, something about trying to find the fastest Texan on skis.

  An old timer loosened his lip from a frosty one, eyed me suspiciously & croaked "The fastest Texan on ski's? Whadda they gonna do, drop him of the Royal Gorge Bridge?"

 

 Indeed, I was thinking & driving.....south. Amateur slalom, run just like the pro races. Head to head competition for men & women, the only requirement, a Texas drivers license & thirty bucks. Race will be followed by beer bash, music provided by Elvis T Busboy & the Blues Butchers. Winners of men's & women's events take home brand new Pontiac Firebirds for a year. Feb. 6 & 7 Taos, New Mexico.

 

  "Just what do you suppose a 1000 Texans do when they get together & start drinking?" I asked Paul Gallaher photographer, sent along to get the REAL story on this Bubba Cup.

  "Wrestle steers into BBQ pits, bowl Armadillos, Spam toss, lie....

 "Boy, I can picture it now, Stetsons flyin, chaps chapping in the wind, probably be plenty of gunplay....."

 

 Our instructions were to meet one Steve Moss, organizer & promoter at Taos' Kachina Lodge the night before the race, so there we sat licking salt from Margaritas when suddenly into the lounge burst a noisy trio arms filled with posters & T shirts, in the center talking a mile a minute, baseball hat backwards & and buck teeth that could have eaten corn through a picket fence was Beavis. Barnum, Bailey & Beavis?

 "WHY YOU OLD STUMP JUMPIN FLAT BACKED BUZZARD, git that table over ther git that ther poster up der! WHA THE EL? Why if Bullshit was white we'd be skiing in Texas!"  Beavis was wildly gesturing at every thing.

 "Uhhh Mr. Moss? We're with Snow Country magazine, I...

 "Well how do boys, I'll be dipped!" Moss shook my hand with one hand & pulled his teeth from his head with the other. Another normal set remained in his mouth. He spun the hat. Instantly Bevis became Steve Moss Promoter.

 "Like em? My dentist, Buck Underbite, made em for me!"

 "Impressive!" I stared at the teeth in his hand....

 "You think that's impressive meet Kirk Hill here, holds the worlds record for continual skiing...4 days & nights straight...

 "Actually Mr. Moss I was wondering how you got into the promotion business, how this Texas Cup came to be?"

 "Well I guess it started back in high school in Lubbock, I'd organize a bunch of kids & we'd go out & lie on the runway at night, try to touch the wheels of the landing jets. Then I discovered skiing. I was actually the first Texan to do a front flip on ski's...intentionally. Well I raced back to Lubbock got my ol mans super 8 movie camera, had my buddy Billy Wanye Urinal Tray film me & the rest is history. Mostly make music videos now, but I've been behind this Texas Cup thing for about 16 years now. This year were gonna expand into Colorado too. It's a opportunity for the average guy to race pro style, head to head with friends...it's fun....you'll see."

 

 'DON'T PANIC your only looking at 1/30 of Taos', the sign said at the base & with good reason for with runs like Physico Path, Taos is famous for it's gravity.  The race had commenced eliminating the crowd of 130 hopefuls with two runs each....but wait a minute...where were the Stetsons? the chaps, the guns? Why these people were jammed into skin tight racing suits that would make Peter Pan blush.

  But, one of these guys ,tights or no tights, must be a cowboy...

 "Hey mister what's your name, what do you do" I interviewed the waiting racers.

 "Frank 'Bogie' Brewer, pilot for Southwest Airline.

 "Bob Brown, 55 years old, Hails Ville Texas, I build drag engines."

 "Darrell Chandler, Amarillo, Rail road engineer."

  "COPENHAGEN ON COARSE! Yelled the announcer & sure enough a small round can rambled along between the gates, a racer in Levi's pursued. This must be my man.

"HEY COWBOY, WHERE YA FROM?"  I called after him.

 "ROPES VILLE  TEXAS, population 485!" He yelled back.

 Finally there he was, a real live cowboy on skis...

 "YOU A COWBOY?"

 "I'M A COLLEGE PROFESSOR, NEVER BEEN ON A HORSE!"

 Well maybe there's a cowgirl in the crowd, I cut a blonde in leopard spots from the herd of racers.

 "My name is Carol Bonn from Mesquite Texas, I'm a travel agent & wife."

 "Does your husband know your hanging around men in tights?"

 "Honey, he doesn't care where I get my appetite, as long as I eat at home."

 

 There were beer belied racers in black leather coats, legs spread wide enough for a herd of steers to stampede through, there were Spyder-suit clad athletes with names like Wolfgang, who 'learned to ski in Austria.'

But everyone had a number & everyone was a ski racer today.

 "HEY YOU PEOPLE HAVIN FUN?" I yelled at the starters.

"FUN THIS PAL...this is for a FIREBIRD!"

 

 Meanwhile, back at the lodge,  Elvis T Busboy & the Blues Butchers were wailing to the Taos crowd of Spanish, Indians & Texans.

 "IT LOOKS LIKE PROM NIGHT AT THE ALAMO!" I was screaming to Paul as an Indian lass the size of a Fridgedare threw me onto the dance floor. Yes even at risk of embarrassing herself in front of the entire tribe she was dancing with the pot-bellied pale faced reporter.

 Texans & Indians, low-riders & beehives, all gettin hysterically down when it suddenly came to me that this was the spirit of the entire weekend, the entire event. Hell, it didn't mater who won, what mattered was that for a day, maybe two, you weren't a travel agent, or a helicopter mechanic...you were a ski racer, racing for the title of fastest Texan on skis. These people had made that one step beyond the herd......& it was good.

 

The sun seemed incredibly bright next morning as the field of women racers narrowed. Kim Zimmerman blew out on the last gate on her last run, a tragic end to a Cinderella story.

 Jonell Mills, a massage therapist from Austin, swept to victory past Pam Franklin, taking a silver cup & a blue Firebird home.

  Steve Moss, was casting, directing, orchestrating with radios & arms waving at a crew of Prime Sports cameras....

 "SHOOT AT 1/500 F STOP 5 GLARE OF SNOW REMEMBER!! HEAD SHOT HEAD SHOT!!" LOOKIT HIM GO!!"

 The guy could promote a submarine race......

 Rock & roll blared, Dee Rambeau, Pro tour announcer, crooned & raved over the speakers, the races got faster the sun brighter, the crowd louder. It was gettin good.

 A racer, to eager to win, jumped the starting gate, or 'barged' early.

 "WE HAVE A BARGE!!" Yelled Rambeau....

 "What's a barge?" asked a big haired spectator.

 "It's a slow moving boat on the Mississippi....I think " replied her equally coifed friend.

  The men's field had been whittled to Reagan Orr, 6 time winner, & a young upstart from El Paso, Aaron Hirsch.

  In a blistering final run Aaron Hirsch, 22 year old phone man, swept into history as the fastest Texan on ski's, 1995.

 As the keys to a cherry red Firebird were handed over, Aaron beamed & in a nice slow Texas Drawl said,

 "Y,all this car is gonna come in mighty handy seein's how mine blew up comin here."      

   And it was good.

                                                             Steve Church