It’s The Pitts: Proud Of His Pride

During a 50-year career of taking bids at all kinds of auctions, the dumbest thing I’ve ever been asked was, “Who’s bidding against me?” 

I don’t know if it was every ring man’s rule, but I had a personal policy I would not divulge such information even if I knew the answer. After all, I had a hard enough time spotting bids in my own section, let alone interfering in a fellow bid spotter’s business.

When asked, I always answered the question one of two ways. Either I replied, “You think I have eyes in the back of my head?” Or, “Don’t bid anymore and we’ll both find out.”

I didn’t divulge the name of the contending bidder because I either didn’t know it or because I thought it violated the person’s right to privacy. 

Why do you think some bidders wink, barely move their head or raise a finger to bid instead of standing up and waving an American flag like one fellow did at John Wayne’s sale every year?

There are a couple of reasons why folks like to bid in private.

Some bidders have such a high opinion of themselves they think others will watch them to see if they bid to get some idea if the animal currently selling is any good. In this case, bidding in a bodacious manner will only increase the number of bidders bidding against you. 

The epitome of such behavior happened at our big summer video sale I announced for over 20 years. 

A rancher who was admired for having a good eye was in attendance at every sale, but right before a lot of calves he really wanted was about to sell, he’d leak out of the landscape and bid on a telephone out in the lobby, less than 20 yards away from where the auction was being conducted.

Others simply didn’t want people to know their business – including their wife or their banker. 

For years I took the bid of a rancher who always sat right next to someone who filled both positions – wife and banker. I swear he was so sneaky, I bet his wife never knew when he was bidding.

I can only remember one time I violated my own rule. 

If the male of our species has a fatal flaw, I’d have to say it’s that we usually tend to have an inflated opinion of ourselves, which quite often can be an erroneous assumption.

A prime example was the arrogant, mean and disliked rancher who should have etched into the mirror he admired every chance he got, “Objects in the mirror aren’t as important as they appear.” 

He sat in the front row at every bull sale he attended even though he paid the price by being bombarded with manure-laden sawdust. I don’t know if he thought it was the King’s row or it was just so he could continually ask, “Who is bidding against me?”

I got so tired of him pestering me, one time when I had both bidders sitting in my section after his usual query, I bent down and whispered in his ear, “I don’t know his name but it’s the guy who your poor, tormented wife just ran off with.”

The arrogant rancher turned 15 shades of purple, and I thought he was going to stroke out right then and there. I never saw a guy bid so fast in my life. 

They say pride goeth before the fall, and his certainly did. To make a long story short, the guy wound up with 15 bulls when he only came to buy three. 

Those 15 bulls – many of them near the end of the sale order – sold for three times the sale average, and they included the high seller of the entire sale at $15,000.

Afterwards, I spoke with the contending bidder on every bull, and he told me the arrogant rancher’s contribution that day was, “Just the down payment on the upcoming divorce settlement.”

Author’s note: I’ve been waiting impatiently to tell this true story for years, and now it can finally be told because the last of the principals involved has finally passed on. I didn’t want the cocky cattleman to suffer any more humiliation than he already had.