Before the sun had even broken through the Westlake sky, a tornado had already carved a jagged path through Erin Bradshaw’s Texas ranch, tossing sheds and scattering debris, back in April. “It got a little western at 5 a.m. here,” Erin posted on Instagram, her tone somewhere between worn-down and done-with-it. What she didn’t say—but made painfully clear—was that life on the ranch, usually rooted in rhythm and control, was just hit by a literal storm.
The storm claimed the life of a baby horse, leaving a mare with a deep cut on her hind leg. Meanwhile, it also left some of the ranch structure flattened. But it wasn’t just the property damage or the animals hurt that broke something in Erin. It was the repetition. “Texas you can kiss my a** today,” she wrote, exasperated. Then came the kicker: “And now we have a dust storm.”
Now, here she was on a Tuesday morning, May 6, a few weeks after the Ranch Chaos, in the middle of another storm. Erin posted again on her IG story: “Just another hurricane. We’ve had 6 inches of rain. That’s enough already.” That’s fatigue. The kind that seeps into your bones after cleaning up one storm too many.
But this is a woman sharing, raw and unscripted, in the middle of a disaster she has weathered before. Erin’s spent her life under a different kind of spotlight as the daughter of Terry Bradshaw. While her father holds four Super Bowl rings with the Steelers and a decades-long career in football media, Erin has carved out her own space in the world of competitive equestrian sports.
Erin’s bond with her horses runs deep—formed long before the TV cameras came around. “[My dad] put me on a horse when I was 5, and really let me start living that dream,” she told Cowgirl Magazine. So, this her world, with years of connection and heart involved. That’s what made the loss cut deeper.
And while Terry Bradshaw, now 76, considers stepping away from the NFL broadcasting world after Jimmy Johnson’s recent exit, it’s Erin who quietly reminded us what grit looks like. No press release. No grand statement. Just a few words, some painful pictures, and a silent promise to get up again tomorrow.
Terry Bradshaw’s polar opposite Monday
While Erin’s Tuesday got ruined by another tiring tornado, Terry Bradshaw and those in Branson on Monday night had a fun way to start their week. Not a game day. No pregame show. No studio lights bouncing off Terry Bradshaw’s shiny dome. But if you walked into the Clay Cooper Theatre on May 5, you’d swear the guy was prepping for kickoff; only this time with guitars instead of goalposts. “The Terry Bradshaw Show” is back, and the fans turned up.
Inside the 1,231-seat theatre, the crowd settled in—waiting not for stats and tape, but for stories and soul. Bradshaw, now 76 and leaner than his old QB frame, was hitting those punchlines and ballads quite perfectly. He was on it. Think country charm meets gridiron grit.
“You find out in life that people really like you funny,” Terry once said. “So what do you give ’em? Humor.” And on this particular Monday? He delivered. From tales of his Louisiana roots to bits about Hollywood stumbles, Bradshaw bounced between laughter and reflection.
No fumbles here, though. The show had a tight two-hour runtime—with a quick 15-minute intermission so folks could catch their breath (and maybe grab a souvenir). The exact setlist for Branson stayed under wraps, but if past shows are any indication—expect some “Crazy Arms” and a dose of Hank Williams heartache. One moment you’re laughing; next, you’re humming along like it’s Sunday morning at the jukebox.
In case you’re wondering—yep, he’s got another one lined up. May 12, same place, same time. Bradshaw might not be under center anymore, but in Branson? He’s still calling plays, just with a mic instead of a helmet.
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