Clyde, a local horseman who ran horses frequently at the ol’ San Juan Downs Race Track in Farmington, New Mexico, spotted Tango in a pasture. He watched him over a few days, liked him and bought the 4-year-old stud. Problem was, nobody could ride him. The local cowboys all tried. As did the trainers, retired jockeys, weekend buckaroos, electricians, roughnecks, silversmiths, auctioneers and parolees. But nobody could stay on the bucker.
Finally, some out-of-town bronc busters were summoned. They eared him down, mounted up – and got bucked off like all the rest. It was disappointing for Clyde, but he bit the bullet and sold Tango to a Navajo man from the reservation.
Six months went by, and one day Tango showed up at the racetrack. Not only that, he smoked the competition. He won the 250, the 330, the 400 and the quarter-mile races he entered. Clyde’s judgment was redeemed. He knew Tango could run. After the races, he went down to the barns and found the Navajo man.
“Congratulations. That sure is a great horse,” said Clyde. “I always believed he could win. But tell me, how did you break him?”
“Well,” explained the Navajo man in his carefully enunciated English, “When we got him home, I tried to ride him, and he bucked me off. Then my brother tried to ride him, and he got bucked off. Then my cousin tried to ride him, and he got bucked off.
“On the second day, I tried to ride him, and I got bucked off. Then my brother tried to ride him, and he got bucked off. Then my cousin tried to ride him, and he got bucked off.
“On the third day, I tried to ride him, and I got bucked off. Then my brother tried to ride him, and he got bucked off. Then my cousin tried to ride him, and he got bucked off.
“On the fourth day, I got on him, and I rode him. Then my brother got on him, and he rode him. Then my cousin got on him, and he rode him.
“I guess he was thirsty.” 
