Let me tell you about the roast I cooked

Normally I'd save roasts for times when we have company, but I was anxious to see what the meat from our steer was going to be like.  At the butcher shop up the road, they weigh the meat they're going to put into hamburger, then grind everybody's hamburger together.  It's much easier for them that way.  Cliff butchered for many years, and he understands why they do this, although it isn't how they did it at the Country Butcher Shop where he worked.  Anyhow, when we use our ground beef, it isn't just our animal, but a combination of meat from many cows.  
We didn't save any roasts from the last steer we had butchered, because he was a dwarf-looking animal of indeterminate age.  I only bought him so my heifer, Secret, who turned out to be sterile, would not be the only cow on the place.  When I realized Secret was never going to breed, we had her friend butchered and sold her.  
This steer (I am being nice and not calling him by name, in case that would bother some of my readers) was only one year old, and really big and fat as Jerseys go.  Cliff decided to take the risk and have some steaks and roasts made.  
We have raised and butchered our own beef before; we've also had quality beef quarters from a butcher shop.  But we have never tasted any beef this flavorful and tender. 
I don't know if it's because he was still getting two gallons of his mother's milk daily, or because he was so young.  
I could eat roast this good every day, but I won't; I'll save the others for when we have company.