Junior livestock shows have been the cornerstone of the Colorado State Fair for years. Kids taking part in 4-H from across the state show their various animals with the goal of earning a Grand Champion belt buckle, and can pocket a tidy sum of cash at auction.
The Chieftain photographers typically split duty covering these events, but we were shorthanded this year so I ended up shooting the final drives of the Grand Champion steer (never, ever bet against the Black Angus; they always, I mean always win) and the Grand Champion goat.
The steer is usually the sexier event. The winner typically gets upwards of $47,000 for their animal at auction and then tension’s palpable, given the stakes, as the judge sizes up the beef in a packed livestock arena.
The goat’s a different story. The goat might garner $5,000 at auction. And its owner might make their money back they spent raising the animal over the past year. I couldn’t tell you what makes a superior goat, so during the event, to cover my ass, I shoot all the goats and their handlers.
Maggie Weinroth’s goat Theodore was named Grand Champion and later sold for $5,500 at the Junior Livestock Sale. What mattered to me was I had a picture of her in focus. I filed my photo and soon forgot about Theodore the champion goat.
That was in August. In October, testing on the now-slaughtered Theodore revealed a banned substance: ractopamine. As a result, the Colorado State Fair posthumously stripped Theo of his title and Maggie, now disqualified, would not receive proceeds from the auction.
In November the Weinroth family made a formal appeal to the State Fair and was denied. The following month the Weinroth’s said they would try to appeal to the Colorado Attorney General’s Office.
Presumably, that tact didn’t take sail; in January, an attorney for the Weinroth family sent the State Fair Board a letter stating “that the family of Maggie and Theodore Weinroth are prepared to sue if the Fair and the state won’t reinstate” Theodore’s title.
Theodore’s saga has probably exceeded more column inches in the Pueblo Chieftain than coverage of last seven Grand Champion steer combined, and I think it’s safe to say never has a goat gotten its picture in the paper–or perhaps on the world wide web–more than Theodore, (for grins, Google “Theodore the Goat”).
Do I think something nefarious went down at the State Fair to give Theo an edge over his rivals during that final drive? No, I don’t; the 4-H kids I’ve met over the years just don’t seem to be wired that way.
That said, I do think the adults in this affair need to re-acquaint themselves with the first part of the 4-H pledge, the part pledging “my head to clearer thinking,” and move on to the next life lesson.
