The general public doesn't understand the difficulty in bull riding. Being the eldest son, I had the responsibility of breaking all the green horses my old man would buy at auction. I loved it. I was only thrown once. Even though I had only been around horses a few years, I could feel their movements ahead of time, and adjust accordingly. With enough time in the pen, and plenty of bonding, I was flipping horses several times a year.
When I was introduced to bull riding, I thought, no problem, just sent small adjustments, right?
Wrong.
Completely different animal. It's not even close. I lasted all of 3 rides on 3 different occasions. I did not have it, and I swear to god, the second and third bulls KNEW it. That power is other wordly, and attempting to straddle that power is the most unnatural feeling I've ever had with an animal. The mechanics of it simply did not make sense to me. My hats off to those that can find the groove.
I stayed away permanently after I watched an Angus cow flip my 300lb dad in the air like a rag doll, and stomp on him while my brother and I slammed into her from a dead run. He lucked out and only broke 3 ribs. She was the finest cow we had. PERFECT conformation. She was number 8.
Number 8 was sent to the auction the next day where she tore up 20 yards of fencing and put two auction hands in the hospital. She was sold for slaughter prices. It's been 25 years and my old man and I still talk about that bitch.