Just When We Thought It Was Safe

Before I dive off into my current musings, I want to congratulate Robson Palermo on a masterful win in New York last weekend. He looked beautiful on the backs of those bulls. I hope he finally manages to stay healthy and has the season he so deserves.

And now, friends and neighbors, on to the main subject of this post. Please fasten your seat belts and prepare to be overrun by a thundering herd of Mauney’s Minions, because I am daring to do something that instantly sets them off: I am going to criticize J.B. Mauney! Yes, I am going to go right ahead and state for the record that his decision to abandon his helmet is about the dumbest move we’ve seen this young man make in his career.

When Ty Murray recounted his conversation with J.B. about this decision, I realized that there is at least one difference between me and Mrs. J.B. Mauney (besides probably 30 years and 30 pounds). If I were Mrs. J.B. Mauney, I would have already filed for divorce, because I would not stay married to a man in a dangerous profession who refused to take reasonable precautions to protect himself and thus his family.

I have to admit, I was pretty stunned by this development, probably because it came to light AFTER J.B. had told Leah on air that he had realized he is halfway through his bull riding career and thus needs to maximize his riding percentages and his earnings. I don’t quite see the line of logic between that idea and throwing away the helmet, which he has been wearing since he started riding bulls as a child. The only explanation I can come up with is an adolescent fit of rebellion. Is J.B. really so foolish as to think “nobody can tell me what to do” is a good approach to being a businessman, let alone a husband and father?

Come to think of it, his picking Rock and Roll, who had not been ridden up until then and who was STILL not ridden after the short-go was over, is parallel to this way of thinking. I really don’t get it. J.B. had first pick in the draft, so why didn’t he choose a good bull he could be reasonably assured he could ride? Oh, I forgot—“I’m going for the rank ones every single time.” Spoken like a true businessman, and furthermore, a businessman whose instrument for making a living is his body. Good call, J.B.

Overall, my reaction to this is disgust. We have endured years of J.B. Mauney acting like a spoiled brat, throwing his bull rope and punching out trash cans when he didn’t ride. We have put up with endless bullshit explanations by his fans that he is just so “passionate” that he “gets all worked up” and that we are obliged to excuse his behavior because he is a brilliant bull rider. If we did excuse it, we mostly did so because he was still a kid and we weren’t surprised when he acted like one from time to time.

And just when we thought maybe J.B. was maturing, we come face to face, yet again, with J.B. the 12-year-old. Research into the development of the brain has determined that people don’t really develop decent judgment skills until they are about 25. I guess I have to conclude that J.B. is a late bloomer. I also have to hope that he has a pile of health and life insurance stashed away somewhere, because riding without a helmet is not a good way to ensure a long and healthy career in this sport.