Sports > October 15, 2003

By Mike Scott

Senior Reporter

A tractor pull is a lot like Bigfoot — everyone’s heard about it, no one you know has actually seen it, there are rednecks out there who are obsessed with it and you’re not sure exactly why, but some odd part of you really wants to experience the spectacle first hand. Well, thanks to the fine folks of the Dixie Classic Fair, I was actually able to whet my tractor pull appetite this past Sunday, finally able to see this contest traditionally referred to as the sport of kings.

The extent of my knowledge about tractor pulls entering the fair grounds was basically none — I had heard them mentioned on TV and I had deduced that they most likely involved a tractor pulling something, but I really had no idea what to expect as my friends and I walked through the entrance to the competition area, needing something to kill the time before the next performance by the Fair’s remarkable family of Chinese acrobats.

When we reached the spectator area just outside the arena, we each sat down in one of the 50 or so metal folding chairs provided for fans. I looked over the shoulder of the man with the “Whoop Ass Racing” shirt and past the girl wearing the “Got Jesus?” t-shirt to see a small rodeo ring filled on one side with a line of tractors.

After the competition area was properly smoothed over, a tractor would pull into position and hitch itself to a modified trailer, which contained weights. The tractor driver would then let fly, treating the crowd to about seven seconds of mildly interesting diversion, until the tractor began spinning its wheels in place, finally having succumbed to the power of the trailer. At this point the distance pulled would be announced, the trailer would be wheeled back to the starting point, the path would be smoothed and a new tractor would be hitched up, ready to wow the crowd with another incredible feat of torque.

Now, maybe it’s because I’m not masculine enough, maybe it’s because I grew up in a town with more than one stop light, maybe it’s because I couldn’t tell a carburetor from a transmission without a well-labeled diagram, but I just don’t see the appeal here. Nearly identical tractors were pulling the same trailer nearly identical distances over the same piece of ground, over and over again. And there were at least 50 people sitting there, watching them pull, and pull again, and pull again.

Now, there are a lot of things that hold absolutely no appeal for me, but that I can understand why people would enjoy them — chess, shopping and aerobic exercise, to name a few — none of them hold much if any interest for me, but on some level I can see why people are stimulated by them. But this just absolutely baffles me. The whole thing reminded me of the Greek myth of Sisyphus, who, as eternal punishment for his life, is endlessly pushing a boulder to the top of a hill, at which point it falls to the bottom of the hill and he starts over. Except for Sisyphus, this is literally hell, not something to do on a Friday night.

How people consider this a sport is beyond me. Golf involves some skill, ultimate Frisbee involves exertion, even bowling and ballroom dancing involve some degree of difficulty and coordination. But this thing has absolutely nothing. A cow chip toss is closer to a sport than a tractor pull. And yet, two years from now, this will probably be the primetime special on ESPN2.

So, while I enjoyed the rest of the fair immensely, with prize pumpkins big enough to serve as a dining room table, vendors who ranged from doggedly upbeat and playful to immensely bitter, patrons that often provided more entertainment than anything in the shows and the ever present aroma of fried batter, the tractor pull, like the Bigfoot sighting that turns out to be only a hairy-backed neighbor, would have to be rated a disappointment.