Opinion: Cowboys must ignore the dangers of bull riding

At 17, Ted Nuce traveled to Gary Leffew's rodeo camp in central California. He arrived with a firm goal for his future.

He wanted to ride bulls for a living.

Leffew, a famed bull rider, taught Nuce the best techniques for remaining on the backs of frenzied animals that weigh close to a ton, but that wasn't the key to success.

A rider must, Leffew commanded, banish all thoughts of danger and failure. A rider must believe he will conquer the beast every time, even if that belief is false.

Nuce believed.

He believed enough to ride bulls professionally from 1980 to 1996. He won four reserve world championships and qualified for the National Finals Rodeo 14 straight years.

He will cap his career Saturday when he's inducted into the ProRodeo Hall of Fame in Colorado Springs.

For years, Nuce resided in a strange realm. In many ways, it was an alternative universe, a place of make-believe.

Before men climb on angry bulls for a ride, they gather and pretend it's no big deal. They eat chicken fingers, laugh at jokes, sneak in a quick call to a loved one, even talk with journalists.

Meanwhile, a snorting beast awaits them. Danger is a few feet away, and they ignore it.

When Nuce was riding bulls, he refused to consider the perils. Leffew taught him to obsess on the thrill of the ride, the money that could be made and the sheer elation of sprinting away from the beast after a successful 8 seconds.

"I loved it," Nuce said from his home in Stephenville, Texas. "I really loved it. I knew it was something I really wanted to do, and whenever you feel like that - whenever you have that strong a feeling for anything - the fear vanishes. You're not thinking about how bad you can get hurt, you just want to make that next great ride."

Yet Nuce was not - and is not - oblivious to the dangers.

He remembers where he was July 30, 1989, one of the sadder days in American rodeo history. Nuce was relaxing at his home in California when the phone rang.

He picked it up and heard the news:

Lane Frost, Nuce's competitor and close friend, had been killed seconds after a ride at the Cheyenne Frontier Days. Nuce had been with Frost the previous day.

"But I didn't have to have one of my good friends get killed to know bull riding is very dangerous," Nuce said. "I tried not to focus on the bad things that could happen and focus on the things I wanted to happen."

Bull riding offers thrills for riders and viewers. Everyone in the arena dreads the catastrophe that might happen and then feels exaltation when it doesn't.

Nuce jumped off a bull in 1996 in Reno, Nev., and decided he was done. The thrill that lured him to ride the beasts had vanished. He never rode again.

He never wants to ride again.

"I've been on so many bulls," Nuce said. "I didn't have any more desire."

While Nuce talked, his sons Wyatt, 3, and Weston, 1, could be heard playing in the background. These days, Nuce enjoys a quiet life. The only risks he takes are on the stock market.

Will he encourage his boys to follow in his steps? Will he push them toward the matchless thrills - and risks - of bull riding?

 "No," he said, "because bull riding is very dangerous.

"I would rather them not ride. I'd rather my sons go to college and get a good education and have a passion for something else."