Columnist Ron Kantowski: It’s a bull market for rodeo offshoot

Thursday, Oct. 24, 2002 | 10:38 a.m.

Ron Kantowski's insider notes column appears Tuesday and his Page One column appears Thursday. He can be reached at ron@lasvegassun.com or (702) 259-4088.

As low man on the Sun sports totem pole in 1987, I "drew" the short straw and was assigned to cover the National Finals Rodeo, which I did four years running, or until I found somebody to carve a new pole.

In all honesty, I've had worse assignments. The cowboys were nice guys and were so polite they would actually thank you at the end of an interview. Just like Barry Bonds.

As for the rodeo itself ... well, in that I grew up on an asphalt ranch south of Chicago, I didn't understand what all that ridin' and ropin' was about. It kind of looked like those old "Rawhide" shows my dad used to watch on TV, except them doggies weren't moving nearly fast enough.

Then a funny thing happened. As they started the next-to-last event of the performance, something called women's barrel racing, about half the arena emptied. At first, I thought it was because barrel racing is about as exciting as UNLV's football offense, or that rodeo buffs must be like Dodgers fans, and wanted to get a jump on traffic.

Then some Okie from Muskogee set me straight. He said nobody was leaving early, that the spectators were just heading to the concession stands for another Coors -- only he pronounced it "Currs" -- so they wouldn't miss the bull riding.

"Bull riding -- like John Travolta in Urban Cowboy?" I asked.

Okie just glared, as if I had squashed his last can of Skoal.

Then the bull riding started and ... yee-haw! Damn if this city slicker didn't think it was eight of the most hair-raising seconds he had witnessed since that "Agony of Defeat" guy tumbled off the 90-meter ski jump hill.

I remember thinking that if they took all that ropin' and ridin' out of the rodeo and just had bull riding, they could take this show on the road -- even east of the Mississippi -- and make some real cash.

A few years later, the Joe Dons and Jim Bobs who ride the bulls (I guess it beats digging fence posts) had the same idea. They broke away from the Pro Rodeo Cowboys Association and formed Professional Bull Riders, Inc.

It wasn't easy, or an overnight success. For starters, there was a lot of opposition from the PRCA, which naturally did not want to let many of its stars go without a fight. To draw a comparison, it would be like all of the NFL quarterbacks quitting to form their own passing league.

It was such a novel concept that nobody wanted to buy into it at the start, forcing a group of 20 riders to pony up their own cash ($1,000 per man) to get the tour off the ground. Think Brett Favre or Kurt Warner would pay to play?

During its first full year in 1994, Pro Bull Riders consisted of eight events that offered a combined $250,000 in prize money. Today, the Bud Light Cup Series is a 29-city, $7.2 million tour that has an estimated 100 million viewers tuning in on cable and, just recently, network television.

Many of the original 20 riders are still around, but they don't travel to the arena in the same mini-van anymore. Today, more than 700 bull riders from the U.S., Canada, Brazil and Australia hold PBR memberships.

As for the events themselves, well, you don't have to be a country boy or a NASCAR fan to enjoy them. You're more likely to hear Led Zeppelin than George Strait as the PBR Tour more closely resembles a rock concert than Hee Haw.

But take away the rock 'n' roll and laser beams, and it's still a lotta bull.

Which in this sport, is a good thing.