I sat behind the microphones, one from each network there
I had my biggest buckle on, had freshly combed my hair
They crowded ’round, the writers there, to ask me what they would
Predictably, they asked me then just how I got so good
“How do you keep the standard up, how do you come and win?
How can you beat the best there is, and do it all again?”
And as I sat before their gaze and while the cameras flashed
I reached back in my memory to find what I had stashed
And as I thought, the years they seemed, to up and fade away
And take me back to my boyhood, a consequential day
A boy of nine, or maybe ten, I cannot be quite sure
Although the year escapes me, the memory’s still pure
There was to be a roundup, and I would get to go
To chase the cows out of the hills, I was in the show
A chilly morning in the dark, we saddled up and rode
To gather all the cattle in, into their fall abode
The air was crisp, our breath we saw, as up the hills we pushed
To search out all the heifers that were hiding in the bush
The sun came up and showed the red, and yellow of the fall
My dreams were comin’ true, and in my saddle I rode tall
We headed up a long plateau, to push some heifers down
From shady, brushy hideouts to the pens and on to town
And as we worked I got a taste of mamas on the fight
Who wiggled into thickets I swear just out of spite
Sometimes I would push ’em out just to see ’em run back in
And turn around and look at me, I swear I saw ’em grin
The branches whipped my face, and the limbs poked at my knees
My pony didn’t like it, so with my spurs I asked him “Please?”
We finally got the cattle down, and stopped to have a break
At a pretty little canyon creek, and lunched on cold beef steak
My grandad came and sat with me, said, “how ya holdin’ up?”
“I seen ya workin’ in the brush, even though you’re just a pup.
But I like the way ya stood yer ground, and saw the thing right through,
That’s the way a man works, son, I’m dadgum proud of you.
I hope that you have noticed, this little crick you see
There’s somethin’ special ’bout this crick, a note to you and me
Do you know how this crick got here? Do you know how it got through?
It may seem a little thing, but there’s a lesson here for you.”
I told him that I didn’t know how the water came to be
In the place that we were sitting underneath a big ole’ tree
He smiled at me, and then he sighed and looked up in the sky
And seemed to me to go someplace as I looked him in the eye
“Pressure, and time, that’s what it is, that’s what brought it here
Pressure in the same small spot for days and months and years
That’s how the water carves the rock, even though the stone is hard
The water is persistent, just like you today here pard
The water, it goes to a spot, and pushes on the rock
And keeps a pushin’ every day, the water doesn’t stop
And over time, the rock wears out, it up and fades away
The water just keeps comin’ all night long and then all day
It makes a stream, and then a crick, and then a river wide
The water is determined, it don’t ever turn aside
The rock, as hard as it can be, it still don’t stand a chance
Because the water is relentless, it ain’t here by happenstance
So remember, boy, that in this life the way to be is wet
To push like water at your task and I’ll make you a bet
That if you’ll push like water, there ain’t much that you can’t do
And all the rocks that seem so tough will just fade away from you.”
A small tear trickled from my eye, and a smile crossed my face
As I sat there in the limelight of that busy flashy place
But still they pressed to hear the words of just how I had won
Of how I just kept comin’ when those other guys were done
I said, “Well, I’ll tell ya, how I get how much I get
It’s because when I come out here, I just make sure that I’m wet.”
They looked at me with puzzled looks, unsure of what to say
They didn’t understand me, but I didn’t want to stay
So up I got and said, “Thank you, for sittin’ here with me.”
And as I walked away I could still hear granddad’s plea
The lesson he had taught me, had seen me through a lot
And had been the thing that tipped the scales in many a tight spot
As I walked I felt him with me, felt that I was not alone
And I felt that he had helped me to be water on a stone.