Crystal Wise
It’s a little overcast and windy, so not the most ideal conditions, but such mild weather adversities don’t bother Mason Taylor. The 7-handicap golfer, decked out in a polo shirt and khaki shorts, launches his drive nearly 300 yards down the right side of the fairway. Outside the rare undulation, the course is flat and only a few trees cause any impediments — nothing too out of the ordinary for a North Texas golf course.
He’d go on to stick his approach shot and tap in for a birdie. His score was somewhere in the high 70s — a fairly normal Thursday afternoon for Taylor. After all, he’s been swinging clubs since he was a little kid when his dad would take him to the local driving range to hack away at a bucket of balls.
Taylor played a round of golf the day before, and he played a round the day before that. He technically plays as much golf through the week as a touring pro. But, like all Thursdays, this marks the last day he gets to play this week because tomorrow, Taylor’s headed for Tacoma, where he’ll get on the back of a 1,500-pound bull and hold on for dear life. He’ll do this four times through the course of the tournament.
That weekend, Taylor would go on to place third, taking home $9,000. A showing like this, at this time of the year, is huge for Taylor, one of the best bull riders in the world. He’s currently ranked 14th among PBR riders, but only razor-thin margins separate him from the top 10. And, with the PBR Finals right around the corner, Taylor’s in prime position to make some noise.
Yes, it was a thrilling and consequential weekend for the 22-year-old. But, on Tuesday, he’ll be back at the Rusted Rail Golf Course, hitting 8 irons pin high.
Bulls Over Baseball
It’s not easy deciphering Taylor’s age. He’s slight of build and has a boyish face with few, if any, whiskers in sight. Yet, he speaks in proverbs and idioms as if he were a grandfather who’s been around the sun more than a few dozen times. And his experiences as a bull rider already add up to a lifetime of achievement. His looks, thankfully, just haven’t caught up to it.
But, when he tells his story, it all falls into place. In years, Taylor’s young, but he had to grow up fast.
Taylor’s the son of a bull rider. Now, bull riding is not a deep-seeded vocation that’s been passed down from multiple generations; his father picked up the sport having grown up an earshot away from an indoor rodeo arena called Kow Bell. The arena, located near Mansfield, had an open roof — think the old Cowboys stadium in Irving — and had weekly bull riding events on Friday and Saturday nights — think Cowtown Coliseum. Taylor’s father had to walk a mere couple of blocks to partake in the daring event, which offered cash prizes. According to Taylor, his father just went in one day, rode a bull, and was hooked.
“My dad [rode bulls for a living], and my mom was a secretary when my dad met her,” Taylor says. “So, my dad tried to get the money, and my mom took the money.”
Trying to make ends meet on an amateur bull rider’s winnings and a secretary’s salary, the family grew up poor, and money was tight. Yet, Taylor admits he never recognized the family’s financial woes until his early teens, well after Taylor had begun riding steers.
Growing up in Maypearl, Taylor went through the ranks of bareback animal riding pretty quickly. His dad put him on his first sheep when he was 18 months old. He graduated from sheep to calves to steers to open bulls and now to PBR. Yes, PBR bulls are in a class of their own — bred for genetically superior bucking, according to PBR’s official website.
“It’s just kind of how you grow up and how your parents feel about you doing [riding],” Taylor says. “If your parents don’t want you doing it, then there’s kids that have to wait until they’re 16 or 17, and they start sneaking off and riding.
“But I’ve always had a family that’s had my back, and I got a great support system. So, I’ve been able and fortunate enough to do it, my whole life.”
He’s quick to credit his family for his success, recalling all the times they sacrificed for him and his career.
“My sister, she didn’t get to grow up doing whatever she wanted because my family put all of their eggs in my basket in riding bulls,” Taylor laments. He tells the story about how, when he was 12, he was going to compete in an event, one that required an entry fee of $200. His family had only $400. That’s it. With the exception of some gas in their car’s tank, that’s all the money they had.
“So, they paid my entry fees, and we had just enough gas to get there and stay in a hotel room. And that was it. If we would’ve got there and I wouldn’t have stayed on [the bull], it would definitely have been hard getting home. But when we got there, I ended up winning both rounds — the short round and the average. And we walked out of there with, like, 12 or 1,300 bucks.”
They would do this a few more times, scrounging up the last of their cash to pay for hotel rooms, gas, and an event’s entry fee. Taylor would win — a natural at keeping his keister on a bucking bull — and they’d have enough to return — with some extra money to boot.
“Them tough times like that, I think is what makes me try as hard as I do nowadays,” Taylor says. “Because I want to be able to take care of me, my fiancée, and my family, as well.”
Despite the financial hardships he’d become privy to, Taylor knew he’d either be a bull rider or a baseball player. He played select baseball — the league for those kids who were head and shoulders above children their own age — since he was 7 years old. Splitting his time between the two sports, Taylor was on the road every weekend, either doing a rodeo or a baseball tournament. Eventually, and perhaps even a little ironically, it was baseball that took a toll on him, and he was burned out.
“I’m just glad that God put me on this way because this one’s working out. I don’t know if I would’ve made it in baseball.”
Taylor, during his thus far short stint as a professional bull rider, has won two Unleash the Beast tournaments (the highest class of tournament you can capture), represented the U.S. during a successful Global Cup event, and finished third at the PBR World Finals last year. In the baseball world, that would be equivalent to a few All-Star appearances, an Olympic Gold Medal, and a couple Gold Gloves. Taylor’s not just successful as a bull rider, he’s one of the greatest riders in the world.
Crystal Wise
A Legion of Demons
The taming of bulls as a competitive sport dates as far back as ancient Greece. Yet, the bull riding we recognize today has its roots in Mexico. According to a book titled The Hispanic Influence on Rodeo, by Mary Lou LeCompte, Mexico was home to frequent equestrian and ranching skills competitions called charreadas — similar to a modern-day rodeo. While the original sport was far more uncompromising in its brutality (riders would literally ride the bull to death), it eventually evolved into a form where the bull would be ridden until it stopped bucking.
One fascinating account of a charreada came from Scottish noblewoman Frances Erskine Ingles, who once wrote, “The most curious part of the exhibition was when a coachman, a strong, handsome Mexican, mounted on the back of a fierce bull, which plunged and flung himself about as if possessed by a legion of demons.”
So, to hop on the back of a two-ton, demon-possessed monster that’s trained to do nothing more than hurl you off its back, one might assume such a person had certain personality traits. An edginess and aloofness earned by staring death in the face on a weekly basis.
Yet, nothing could be further from the truth. In Taylor’s opinion, the act of riding a bucking bull makes the rider all the more humble. After all, a bull rider never physically dominates the bull; they just have to hang on for eight seconds. The rider always gets bucked off eventually, so the bull always wins.
In fact, most bull riders, as Taylor puts it, “are just skinny little toothpicks.”
Taylor himself is 5-foot, 8-inches tall and weighs 147 pounds. You might not see it via bulging muscles on his arms or legs, but his core is as strong as anyone’s. As he puts it, this is riding shape, not fitness shape. You’ll find that most bull riders are short and lean. Not jockey short and lean, but no doubt on the shorter and leaner side of average. This is not by mistake. According to Taylor, the smaller you are, the bigger the scores you’ll get.
“So, we all try to stay as small as we can,” Taylor says. “From a working-out standpoint, I just do a whole lot of cardio. I’m on the golf course, walking five, six miles every time we’re out there. Then when I get home, whether it’s jump roping or running or just getting in the hot tub and then getting in the sauna and sweating, I just try to keep the excess weight off and remain as lean as I can.”
Of course, not everyone abides by the “skinny is better” strategy. Many of the Brazilian riders are similar in height but weigh over 180 pounds. While this allows them to better handle the bull, the bull can’t buck as hard. So, their scores are not as high. But Brazilians have been dominant over the past decade for one main reason: As Taylor puts it, “The more you stay on, the more you win.”
A rider is only allowed to ride once per night, and most competitions last two nights, meaning a bull rider gets two cracks at reaching eight seconds. In tournaments that go three or four rounds, the field will whittle down to 12 or 20 before the final round. A rider only receives points, which are awarded by a panel of judges, if they remained on the bull for the full eight seconds. Judges look at both the bull and the rider, with 50% of points coming from each. If the bull is bucking hard and spinning fast, this means more points for the rider. Judges also look at how well a rider covers the bull, his balance, and whether he spurs the bull to buck more.
While having a spinning, high-kicking bull will accrue more points, a rider is also less likely to stay on.
Godzilla Throws Mason Taylor to the Ground Like a Wet Paper Towel
If you do something enough times, there’s an inevitability factor that comes into play.
If you skydive long enough, you’ll eventually have a parachute that fails to open properly (thank goodness for backup chutes). If you drive enough, you’ll eventually be involved in some sort of accident that has you pulling out your insurance information. Statistically, these things are bound to happen.
So, when you ride a bull multiple times a week for years on end, you’re bound to break a bone or two.
“You can get hurt from time to time,” Taylor shrugs. “It’s going to happen. You don’t know when it’s going to happen. That’s why I feel like all of us bull riders — even if we’re doing it on a big stage with bright lights — we’re just normal people. I think it keeps you humble. It just kind of keeps us down to earth and keeps us enjoying every moment.”
According to a study conducted by Current Sports Medicine Reports, the incident of injury among bull riders is 32.2 injuries per 1,000 competitor exposures. This means there’s a 3.2% risk of injury every time a rider hops on the back of a bull.
While some of this is “rider error” that can be avoided by non-amateurs, the vast majority of the risk lies in the unpredictability of the animal. In car racing, you know the car will accelerate when you hit the gas and stop when you hit the brake. You at least have some semblance of control over what you’re operating. In bull riding, such control is nonexistent.
Do a quick YouTube search of Mason Taylor, and you’ll find plenty of examples of control being chucked out of the window. No surprise, bulls violently bucking riders get more views than successful rides.
One video posted by PBR titled “Godzilla Throws Mason Taylor to the Ground Like a Wet Paper Towel,” shows Taylor struggling in the chute with the bull, aptly named Godzilla. It’s a full three minutes and 40 seconds before the chute finally opens, only for Taylor to last less than three seconds on the Godzilla’s back.
A YouTube search of “Godzilla Bull” also yields short videos of plenty of rides lasting less than three seconds.
“Honestly, I like that kind of stuff,” Taylor says. “That’s what pushes me to want to be the best bull rider in the world is knowing that there’s a bull out there that is bucking everybody off. That’s the one that I want to ride because if you ride him, not only are you going to get paid for it. Not only are you going to get recognized for it, but you’re going to feel good about yourself knowing that you did something great.”
Despite not remaining on Godzilla for long, Taylor was able to scurry away to safety.
“My dad used to say, ‘When you hit that ground, pick a direction, get up, and go,’” Taylor says. Much like bull riding itself, there’s no magic secret to avoiding injuries.
Despite the stellar advice from his father, Taylor has sustained a couple of brutal injuries over the past couple of years — both of which have entered the territory of lore among PBR fans.
He first broke his collar bone, which would require surgery.
According to Taylor, it took a little swallowing of his pride to have surgery. This meant he could return to the ring in six weeks. But, once he was back bucking bulls, something was off. His rides weren’t as good. He wasn’t pleased with his draws. And his normally sanguine attitude had turned sour.
Sure enough, negative energy begets negative results. In the last event of the season, Taylor would collide heads with a bull and break his jaw.
“That was kind of the moment in my career where I could either stay home or face adversity and went at it,” Taylor says. “And honestly, at the time, it didn’t do nothing but piss me off. I had to have another surgery.”
Three days after his second surgery, he got on his first bull at the 2021 PBR Finals.
This is the part that catapulted Taylor to legendary status: Taylor, with a wired jaw, would go on to ride five of six bulls and finish in third place.
Riding among the best bull riders in the world, unable to speak outside of a murmur, and keeping to a liquid diet, the press began to joke whether Taylor was better with his jaw wired shut. His star was no longer rising — it was now firmly affixed in the night sky.
Crystal Wise
Home Court Advantage
When Taylor enters the chute, he does it to Drake’s song “Trophies.” It’s been his walk-up song since he joined PBR and started competing in the top-tier Unleash the Beast tournaments after spending six months on the lesser Velocity Tour.
His fiancée, Caitlin, turns the song off during car rides because it gives her too much anxiety.
Her brother drives race cars — which she says scares her more — so she’s used to having loved ones partake in high-risk sports.
“I don’t get too nervous,” she says. “I know he knows what he’s doing.”
But the Drake song still triggers a certain emotion.
The couple, who have been engaged for only a few months but have been together for many years, own a single-story starter home in Combine, where they live with their dog, named Fish. The inside of the home is adorned with belt buckles in glass cases and photos of Taylor riding bulls. The property has a deep backyard where, Caitlin jokes, their 3 1/2 horses reside — one of them is a miniature horse.
They’re also just a few miles from the golf course Taylor likes to frequent. These are the things that make up the dreams of retirees or couples in their 30s and 40s. Mason and Caitlin are 22 and 21, respectively.
Eventually, Taylor wants to devote himself entirely to golf.
While he’s always a pleasant and loquacious fellow, when you get Taylor on the subject of golf is when he really opens up. Golf clubs in his house are starting to take precedence over the myriad of belt buckles he’s won.
His plan is to retire from bull riding at 29 and play golf full time.
“I can’t do this forever,” Taylor says. “I want a family, and I want to quit [bull riding] before it takes a toll on me.”
Regardless, before he leaves bull riding, he still strives to be the greatest in the world. And in mid-May, he’ll have a great opportunity to stake claim to that title.
On May 13, Dickies Arena, which resides not far from his hometown of Maypearl, will host his sport’s biggest event: the PBR World Finals. While Taylor currently sits in 14th on the overall standings, he’s the highest ranked Texan who’s within earshot of the overall leader, João Ricardo Vieira.
While he’s down the leaderboard, it’s not an impossible gap to make up. The points awarded at the PBR World Finals are nearly quintuple what they would be at any other event. For instance, one rider could earn up to 2,160 points during the five-day event. Vieira currently leads Taylor by 419 points. Again, not undoable.
“We had finals in 2020 at the AT&T Stadium in Arlington,” Taylor says. “So, I’ve gotten a taste of having all my friends and family and everybody come out to watch me, and I loved it.”
His friends and family will be there to witness the amazing result of their sacrifices. After all, seeing the potential that Taylor could one day become a world champion is what made all of those entry fees, hotel rooms, and tanks of gas worthwhile. While they might all cover their ears during Drake’s “Trophies,” they’ll have their full weight behind him.
“I expect it to be a whole lot of fun,” Taylor says. “Everybody that I know and love is going to be there supporting me. It gives me a little extra boost of confidence, I think.”
