Welcome to Bull Country
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.
It’s strange seeing so many cowboys at Mandalay Bay, the lavish beach-and-ocean-themed hotel and casino (with wave pool, shark reef, etc.) that anchors one end of the Las Vegas strip. It’s as if thousands of Western movie extras were sent to the wrong film set.
But fans attending the Professional Bull Riders World Finals, which runs from October 22 through this Sunday, aren’t likely to feel too out of place. Every aspect of the 10-day event follows a strict, red-meat diet of cowboys, guns, patriotism, and God. It’s the Bush reelection campaign on bull back.
Last Sunday night’s PBR performance, the third of seven, began this way: First there was a massive spray of fireworks, then the Charlie Daniels band sang a PBR-themed song set to the music of one of his old amped-up fiddle tunes; the top 25 bull riders were introduced, one by one, stepping out onto an elevated catwalk in full riding regalia (hats, flak jackets, and chaps) to the sound of cannon fire; Operation Iraqi Freedom was unequivocally praised by an announcer, after which Army Rangers repelled from the rafters – some of them upside down, holding onto ropes with only their legs and feet, like camouflaged Cirque du Soleil acrobats – and proceeded to unfurl the largest American flag I’ve ever seen; the entire stadium “removed cover” and bowed its head in prayer (“thank you Lord for this symbol, this symbol of freedom…”); the National Anthem was sung while video screens showed Blue Angels fighter jets flying in formation and more American flags whipping in the wind, sometimes the two images were superimposed; then “Born In the U.S.A.” blared over the loudspeakers.
And with that, we were ready to watch the bull rides.
It’s tempting to view the PBR as a mere Red America curiosity or modern Wild West Show, but it’s actually a serious sport with a rapidly growing national audience. The PBR was founded 11 years ago by 20 top bull riders who decided to abandon rodeo (barrel racing, calf roping, bronc riding, and the rest) and set up a bull-riding only league in order to expand the popularity of the event and provide riders bigger purses and a less punishing schedule.
Those original ambitions now seem modest. The PBR Built Ford Tough Series – the premier league, which features the top bull riders and the rankest bulls – draws a million live spectators a year to its 29 events and reaches 100 million households via coverage on NBC, OLN, and Telemundo. And for the first time last year, the PBR paid out a $1 million bonus to its top rider.
According to PBR chief operating officer Sean Gleason, the league now stands about where NASCAR did 10 years ago: a niche sport with an extremely loyal fan base on the verge of joining the sporting big leagues. Sponsors are lining up to be there when it does. In addition to endemic “gimmes” like Carhartt, U.S. Smokeless Tobacco, and Wrangler, the PBR has attracted major corporate sponsors such as Ford, Enterprise Rent-A-Car, Budweiser, and the U.S. Army.
The PBR bills itself as “the toughest sport on dirt,” but that’s typical cowboy understatement. Judging from what I saw, it could out-tough sports on most any surface. Two of the 45 contestants in Sunday’s event were riding with broken legs. Another had to do a re-ride from the previous night when he was knocked unconscious by a bull that tried to climb out of the chute with him on its back.
The pace of the sport is about like football: There’s a lot of setup as the riders ready themselves in the chute, and then a few seconds of furious action. A quick-witted clown with a headset microphone pokes fun at the announcers, riders, bulls, and fans during lulls in the action.
The rides take place on an arena floor covered in soft brown dirt and ringed by a corral of aluminum piping with bull chutes at one end. Midway through the event, a CAT tractor – bull riding’s answer to the zamboni – comes out to pop a few wheelies and re-smooth the ground.
In real-time, a bull ride appears chaotic; the action happens too fast for the untrained eye to follow. The bull bursts out of the chute – dust, snot ribbons, and excrement flying – and bucks with all the force its 2,000-pound body can muster. The rider, meanwhile, looks like he’s just holding on for dear life. A scoring ride is eight seconds; most don’t last that long.
As with hockey, bull riding’s true grace is only revealed in the slow-motion replay that shows on a giant screen after every ride. The bulls have a whole arsenal of moves – leaps, belly rolls, reverses, high kicks that stretch them almost vertical – that they use in different combinations depending on what they feel the rider doing up top. When the bulls duck their heads and spin, they become natural centrifuges, their heavy front ends whipping their light hind-quarters with incredible power. The riders, for their part, buck with the animals, thrusting their hips and pumping their free hand with the bull’s every move. It’s bovine ballet.
But in this contest of man vs. animal, the animals may be gaining the upper hand. PBR bulls are fight trim, deeply lined with muscle and possessed of a twitchy, nervous energy. All of them have a bit of Brahma in them – which accounts for the big hump of muscle between their front shoulders and the loose flap of skin under their necks – and most can lay claim to some famous bucking bull lineage (Bodacious, Houdini, Mr. T).
As bull breeding programs grow more sophisticated, the animals keep getting stronger and faster and the cowboys wear more protective gear. As PBR President (and seven time world champion all-around cowboy) Ty Murray quipped to an audience of stock contractors: “We’re gonna have to start a cowboy-breeding program.”