The roughest ride of all

Friday, Oct. 28, 2005 | 7:31 a.m.

LOTTA BULL

WHAT: 2005 Professional Bull Riders (PBR) Built Ford Tough World Finals.

WHEN: Friday-Sunday, Mandalay Bay Events Center; Nov. 3-6, Thomas & Mack Center.

THE SKINNY: The tour's top 45 bull riders on a 31-city tour compete for more than $3.2 million in prize money.

TICKETS: Mandalay Bay, 632-7400. Thomas & Mack Center, PBR-SHOW.

He has had his game face on roughly from the time he left Oklahoma. So when the slender rider climbs onto the back of a not-so-slender 2,000-pound bull, there's really no need to embellish what is about to happen.

Man against beast.

For eight seconds.

Or less.

Bull riding is dangerous and exciting, which explains its allure. It's like NASCAR without engines. It takes the skill of a Swiss watchmaker. And the toughness of a Pennsylvania coal miner.

If you don't believe it, watch what happens when the rider climbs aboard his bull, tugs on the rope, and, accepting there's no way to turn back now, gives a subtle nod of his head, starting the clock in motion.

:01

When the chute opens, there's actually a tiny fraction of a second, an almost imperceptible moment, when a calm envelops bull and rider.

Then all hell breaks loose.

The noise of the iron gate swinging open is the bull's cue to perform his life's calling; i.e., to dislodge the rider off his back as quickly as possible.

What happens in the first second of a bull ride many times determines if seconds 2-8 will be necessary.

"When the gate opens, the most important thing to do is leave (begin the ride) at the same time as the bull," says Justin McBride, the PBR's top-ranked rider with $289,701 in season winnings. "In drag racing, the car that gets off the line first is usually the one that's gonna win.

"If the bull gets off the line first, he's probably going to win."

:02

If the rider survives the fury of the start, the bull will usually turn right or left. Hopefully, not at the same time. Most like to jump, too. Once, twice ... maybe even three times.

"No matter what he does, you've got to counter him," McBride says.

In that way, a bull ride is like a prizefight. Or physics. For every action, there's a reaction.

For instance, if the bull goes left, a right-handed rider like McBride will shift his upper body forward and move his free arm to the left.

"It's all about balance and counter moves," he said.

Alexis Arguello would have made a great bull rider. Joe Frazier, I'm not so sure.

:03

If the rider has made it this far, he'll probably take a quick glance down at the bull, just to get his bearings. Or to call him a name. By then, the mental notes he has prepared on the bull's style will probably flash through his mind.

Bull riders are like baseball players in that most compile scouting reports on that day's opponent. Only with bull riding, it's like facing Don Drysdale or Roger Clemens every time out. There's almost always chin music. Or a brushback pitch.

"You've really got to know the bull to the extent that the bull gets to set the pattern (for the ride)," McBride says. "But you can't totally depend on that. Nobody's telling the bull that he has to take two jumps and spin to the left.

"You have to game plan a little bit, but you also have to stick to some basic things."

Like making it to the halfway point, for instance.

:04

If the clock's still ticking, the rider's probably taking a licking. The judges begin to consider the bull's speed, power, how he drops in the front, how he kicks in the back. How he changes directions. The more of these characteristics a bull displays, the higher he is scored by the judges.

If the rider makes the full eight seconds, half his score is based on the bull's performance and half on his own. The best-possible score is 100 points, with the top rides usually being scored in the 90-95 range.

But midway through his ordeal, none of that matters very much to the rider.

His mount snarls and snorts a viscous green-yellow discharge into the air.

It ain't exactly Gatorade.

"That's just part of it," McBride says. "A 2,000-pound animal doesn't get to blow its nose."

:05

By this time, if the rider has somehow managed to wrest control of the ride from the bull, he might consider doing something to impress the judges. Such as spurring the bull, for instance.

That might not seem like a good idea. It's sort of like telling Dick Butkus his mom wears army boots. But though spurring the bull isn't mandatory, judges usually reward riders who do with "style points."

The bulls chosen for the world finals usually don't like to be spurred. Or even mounted. But there are a handful of 90-point bulls -- bulls that are tough, but not impossible, to ride that all the good ones hope to draw.

One such bull is Mossy Oak Mudslinger. He's currently the top-ranked PBR bull with a rating of 23.0, which takes into account the average score on a bull and how often he bucks off his rider.

Coming into the world finals, Mossy Oak Mudslinger has bucked off 71 percent of those who have dared climb onto his back. He's tough. But not impossible.

"He's the ideal bull," McBride says. "He doesn't get ridden very often but if you can ride him, it should be 90-95 points."

:06

Three-quarters into a bull ride, the crowd is beginning to feel it. If the bull is doing his job and the rider is doing his, knowledgeable bull riding fans tend to get louder than a honky-tonk at the Calgary Stampede.

McBride said he never hears it.

"You're too busy hanging in there, gritting your teeth," he says.

Although the rider is still on board, that doesn't mean the bull is getting used to having him there. It continues to run madly about at high speed, bucking wildly. Lest it become a Big Mac.

As the ride nears its end, the rider continues to strive for control and rhythm. The bull strives to disrupt it.

"It's the eight most exciting seconds in sports," McBride says. "Most football plays last about eight seconds, but some of them aren't very exciting."

And when was the last time you saw a bull penalized for unsportsmanlike conduct?

:07

By now, there is just a second before the whistle sounds. But there are still a lot of things that could go wrong.

The bull might jump left when "the book" says he'll go right. He might take one step forward instead of two steps back. The rider might accidentally make contact with the bull with his off-hand, which is against the rules. And all the time, there's danger. With every turn. With every jump. Danger.

Bull riders who don't respect it can wind up getting hurt. Or worse.

"Whenever things start going right or fast or you start having too much fun," McBride says, "then it starts going too slow. You get a sense when you're getting pretty close to making the whistle ... and that's usually when you get throwed off."

Yes, McBride said "throwed" instead of "thrown." Having attended UNLV on a scholarship, he knows the difference. It's just that "getting throwed" is a badge of honor for bull riders.

Sort of like what "getting wrecked" is to NASCAR drivers.

:08

It has only been 7.5 seconds, but it seems like an eternity since the rider grasped the braided rope that is wrapped around the bull's chest between its front legs and over its withers. It's the umbilical cord that binds bull and rider. But at some point, you've just got to let go.

If only that darn whistle would blow.

When it does, the ride is over. At least officially. But there's still work to be done. The rider has to work his hand free of the rope and then scout the arena for a safe place to land.

"If you hear the whistle and are in control, making a good ride, you just pick where you want to get off," McBride says. "Other times, when things are going wild, there's no telling. You're just trying to get off one way or another and get the heck out of the way (of the bull)."

If the rider is lucky, he won't have to get reacquainted with Rob Smets or one of the other PBR bull fighters.

Bull fighters who used to be called clowns because of the way they dress and the makeup they wear. But don't be misled by the Tammy Faye Baker disguise. These guys are the bull rider's best friend.

"A few years ago after the whistle blew, I relaxed a little bit and I had this mean ol' bull who really wore me out," McBride says. "I got run over a little bit, but Rob Smets ... man, he really took a shot for me."

If the dismount is clean and the conquered bull quietly trots away, many riders will play to the crowd, punctuating their rides with Terrell Owens-type histrionics and gyrations.

Not McBride.

"People are gonna think we're a bunch of damn idiots," he said.

Some people, he may be surprised to learn, already do.

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