Hats, heritage and seconds of glory in San Antonio, Texas

Nostrils flared like a twin set of exhaust pipes, releasing pent-up power from within. Head bowed, muscles flexed, its hind legs kicked at a 45-degree angle. Showered in a mist of grit, it framed a rather romantic silhouette, although the scene was a playoff between two rivals, man and beast, heroic in the spirit of the West. Atop, the rider clutched the reins, baring white knuckles, a taut expression portraying his effort to remain in place for the longest of eight seconds. But, alas, the hat falls first and then the rider tumbles leaving the bull free to parade its success. The roar of the crowd respects the spectacle while quietly hoping for the safety of both.