Riders stand on the dirt before taking their turns. Many have trained a lifetime for this. Tyler Harr says: “When I was 3 years old, Dad would get down there in the living room and you'd just strap a belt around him, get on there and see how long you could ride him. It's been a long road.”

“I come from a town that doesn't have a stoplight. As soon as I got to the age where I knew what a living was, my dad asked me if bull riding was what I wanted to do. I said, ‘I got to.’ He said, ‘Why's that?’ I said, ‘I’m too lazy to work for anybody and I’m too scared to steal from anybody, so I guess bull riding’s for me.’”

Mauney rides the bull Dew Rag Dan. Riders try to choose bulls—or “bovine athletes”—who will spin and kick as much as possible, since half their score depends on the animal’s performance. Mauney was thrown after 4.82 seconds this time, but recovered to finish eighth for the weekend.

Riders look on as others take their eight seconds.

At a bull-riding event, it's the safety man’s job to lasso a bull who gets loose or doesn’t want to return to his chute. On this night, he faced that challenge once—apprehending Swamp Trick on his first try and leading him out of the arena.

“We’re always expecting good things,” says Kolbaba, who hails from Walla Walla, Washington. “We wouldn’t come all the way over here if we didn't expect to win.” In the first round, he hung onto Grave Digger. He came away from the weekend with an 11th-place finish and more than $3,000.

The gate man climbs out of harm's way after releasing a bull from the chute.

Dirteater, whose name sounds like it belongs to a comic-book cowboy, looks imposing amid the smoke and fire during rider introductions. He finished in third place and pocketed more than $20,000.

“At the finals in November, my next-to-last-bull who I won the world finals on, I rode him for eight seconds and then fell off into the well—which is the direction he's spinning in. Clung to him for a little while and ended up breaking a couple of ribs. It's part of the sport, though.”

Luis Blanco looks relaxed before his ride, during which he hung onto Come On Baby for the full eight seconds. The Brazilian said New York's cold weather was a tough adjustment, but, come the competition, “you forget everything else. You just zoom your mind to what you have to do.”

Just 19 years old, Jess Lockwood rode rowdy Dennis the Menace and stuck his dismount—landing on two feet. He ended up winning the whole weekend and earning more than $117,000 for his troubles.

Kaique Pacheco is one of many professional bull riders who hail from Brazil. In the first round, he was thrown from Trick Shot after hanging on for 7.23 seconds—just short of the cutoff for a score.

A rider climbs the fence to avoid a bull. When this happens, the safety man, rodeo clown, and “bullfighters” (who do not actually fight, but merely distract, the bull) take care of business in the arena.

“Bull riding is not easy, you know,” says Marchi, a former world champ. He had a rough weekend this time, as he tallied no score on any of his three bulls. But that's nothing compared to the injuries he's sustained in his career. “Broken ribs, punctured lungs,” he recites, laughing, before getting back in the saddle on Friday. “Yes, sir. It’s not easy.”

The thousands who turned out over the weekend were treated to all kinds of entertainment, including contests during commercial breaks, jokes from the announcers and—courtesy of preeminent rodeo clown Flint Rasmussen—a parody of Billy Joel’s “Piano Man” with lyrics customized for bull riding.