Mauney’s philosophy was to never settle. If he was in second place with a guaranteed score, he would still risk it all to try for first. This "gunslinger" mindset was driven by an internal need to prove to himself that he was the best, not just to beat competitors.
A significant portion of breaking in a new bull involves "dry work." This means running the bull through the bucking chute repeatedly without a rider to get it accustomed to the process. This desensitization is critical for calming the animal before introducing a human rider.
Mauney contrasts himself with a naturally gifted peer who looked graceful on a bull. Mauney, on the other hand, was clumsy and incorrect. His only advantage was a stubborn refusal to let go until he was knocked out, forcing him to outwork everyone to succeed.
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 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.
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."
JB Mauney's life motto was to ignore "Plan B" and just "make Plan A work." This focus fueled his success, but when a career-ending injury struck, he faced an identity crisis. With no backup plan or other skills, he was terrified about his future.
Before intensive training begins, Mauney lets new, wild bulls sit in pens and pastures for one to two weeks. This period allows them to acclimate to the new environment, reducing stress and making them more receptive to handling in the high-pressure bucking chute.
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.
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.
Mauney claims he's no inherently tougher than anyone else. The difference, he says, is that he simply told himself he was tougher and then believed it. This cultivated self-belief became a reality, allowing him to push through extreme pain and injuries that would sideline others.
Mauney can identify riders who have never been "road broke." He describes the unmatched desperation and effort that comes from knowing the only way to eat or get home is to succeed on the next ride, having spent your last dollar on entry fees. This builds a unique kind of grit.
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.
When Mauney landed on his head during his final ride, he wasn't initially worried. However, the moment he tried to lift his head to look up, he felt a distinct sensation and immediately knew his neck was broken, a grim awareness born from a career of injuries.
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.