One of my childhood experiences with sale barns was being set up by dad and granddad. They both knew the auctioneer and granddad sat behind me bidding on yearlings to go to pasture in Wyoming. The first pen was : "Sold to the little boy in the red shirt". I thought I would die, as I like others kids, had been instructed to not move a muscle. The look on my face must have been priceless. Good memories.