Yeehaw, Cowboy Donald Cerrone!

My love for the rodeo cowboys is what first attracted me to Donald Cerrone.

I have mentioned before that both of my sons were in the Illinois High School Rodeo Association, as were several of their cousins.

Now, Peoria is not known for being a "cow-town"; quite the opposite is true. The Bar X brand, which my husband and I now own, was the first brand ever registered in Peoria County. We re-registered it as belonging to "The Old Bar X Ranch."

The first case of cattle rustling ever on record involved cattle rustled from my husband's grandfather who had brought Brahma livestock up to Illinois from Florida.

The rodeos held on what is now our property (less the section that is now I 474) were a local attraction in the '30s and '40s and Mel's uncle has some old grainy films recording the events.

Times were hard, entertainment was scarce, and folks even came out to see the calves branded each year.

So rodeo and a lot of the "old" West is mixed in with the Miller-Willis bloodline. Going into rodeo felt natural to our sons.

It did not seem natural to their stern, uptight, city-bred, born, and raised high school football coach who liked to call them out for daring to proudly wear Western clothes to school and deride them in front of their classmates.

But riding in the rodeos took precedence over prejudiced coaches and one son rode bulls while the other rode barebacks. Bulls are no laughing matter and I often wondered about the sanity of encouraging high school kids to learn to ride them.

Ironically, my oldest son, who had taken karate and loved to warm up with karate kicks and stretches, was as much an oddity to his fellow bull riders as he was to the varsity football coach. He got a lot of ribbing for being a "karate kid" from his rodeo peers.

Well, wouldn't you know he came on the scene 20 years too soon!

Finding another bull rider turned MMA fighter is to me a happy coincidence.

Readers may remember that I have written about Donald "the Cowboy" Cerrone before, assuming that everyone would have to love a cowboy turned MMA fighter.

After witnessing recent events I feel vindicated for having that first impression of him before he wracked up so many impressive wins and fought Jaime Varner for the 155-pound championship title.

After seeing him on the Primetime Show fighting with none other than my favorite fighter Georges St. Pierre, I was prepared to be impressed. And by Georges, I was!

He answered everything Varner threw at him and gave back as good or better than he got. I actually thought he got better in the later rounds.

When the fight was stopped due to Donald unintentionally fouling Varner, I could not believe my eyes. As hard as I tried to see what happened to cause Varner's vision problem, I could not see that Donald had hit him in the eyes.

When Varner tucked his head down I wondered if he could have hit himself with his foot. The position was a strange one to be in, curled up down on the mat after Donald appeared to step on or over him and into the side of the cage.

Not calling the fight a No Contest because of Varner's inability to continue seemed like a very unfair decision to me. A loss on Donald's record after the way he fought is a travesty, in my opinion.

Now I am wishing I had videos of Donald riding bulls to console myself.

Well, as rodeo folks say, "Cowboy up, Donald!" Just dust yourself off, reshape your hat, and get back in there, boy!

And your fan Grandma Dee says better luck next time.