Mauney attributes his mastery to an extreme volume of practice. Before turning pro, he got on bulls daily, and even twice on Sundays. He believes most aspiring riders today are unwilling to put in the sheer amount of work required to reach the top.

For highly complex and uncertain fields like wild animal welfare, avoid advocating for large, irreversible solutions. Instead, focus on small-scale, reversible actions that are plausibly beneficial (e.g., bird-safe glass). This approach allows for learning and builds momentum without risking catastrophic, unintended consequences.

Mauney dismisses riders who blame a tough bull for a failed ride. He states that the job description is "bull rider," which doesn't specify "nice bulls only." This mindset of radical ownership means accepting the challenge presented, regardless of its difficulty.

Mauney avoids over-analyzing a bull by watching videos, preferring to rely on pure instinct. He believes that in high-reaction environments, conscious thought is too slow and leads to fatal hesitation. Success comes from gut feelings honed by thousands of hours of practice.

JB Mauney admits the only time he got nervous was after the 8-second whistle because he had to figure out how to dismount. His landings were so poor that bullfighters joked about them, highlighting that even experts have distinct areas of weakness within their domain.

According to Mauney, riders thrown off right out of the chute were already behind when they nodded. A successful ride begins with a perfect launch, moving in sync with the bull's first motion. A bad start is nearly impossible to recover from, as you're immediately out of rhythm.

Expecting new team members to handle complex tasks immediately is a recipe for failure. Effective skill development starts with simplified challenges—an 'underhand toss'—to build confidence and foundational competence. Difficulty should be increased incrementally, allowing mastery at each stage before facing the '80-MPH fastball.'

Most riders get set, then nod, allowing smart bulls to brace for the gate opening. Mauney reversed this: he would nod for the gate *while* sliding into position. This subtle change in sequence caught the bull off guard, preventing it from getting into its "starting blocks."

Mauney follows and teaches an old-school rule: no matter how badly you're hurt, you get up and walk out of the arena. Inside the competitive space, you must project toughness. Only once you've passed through the gate can you allow yourself to show vulnerability or pain.