Tuckness takes bullfighting job seriously at National Finals Rodeo

Dusty Tuckness always is willing to lend a hand.

At the National Finals Rodeo, he offers his hand, head and the rest of his body parts to aid those in need.

Tuckness is one of three bullfighters at the Thomas & Mack Center whose jobs are to throw their bodies in front of raging, rank bulls to protect bull riders.

The 25-year-old from Meeteetse, Wyo., tapped more horns during Thursday night's eighth go-round than a raging driver in a traffic jam.

Tuckness' actions exemplify how he'll do whatever it takes to get a bull away from a rider or the other two bullfighters.

And unlike the riders who can make up to $17,884 each night, the bullfighters' only incentive is to keep them safe to ride another night and make more money. Whatever bullfighters earn isn't increased with good performances.

Other than women in barrel racing, the only men working the rodeo in makeup are the bullfighters and bull riding's "man in the car," who gets as close to the bulls as fans in the stands and has a barrel to hide in.

Face paint is part of rodeo that Tuckness never wants to see changed.

"I'm a traditionalist," he said. "Rodeo clowns were the foundation for bullfighters, and I want the tradition to live on.

"It's a very serious and dangerous job whether I have makeup on or not."

The white markings outlined in black under his eyes and down his jaw line, red tip on his nose and cross on his chin is more war paint than makeup.

Long, navy blue hankies dangle from two belt loops over his backside, and navy blue supporters hold up cutoff jeans slit up the middle that look like a skirt over his athletic shorts.

The loose clothes ease movement and enhance the traditional clown look.

But no one in rodeo laughs at bullfighters.

This year, Tuckness missed two months after shoulder surgery to repair an injury that happened a year ago at the NFR and was further aggravated a month later at two rodeos in Texas.

Two months ago, he underwent another procedure to repair a broken kneecap he sustained bullfighting in Omaha, Neb.

This is his first rodeo since the last operation.

When you make a living as a human decoy and pick fights with bulls, health insurance providers are not going to like the results of a Google search for keyword: bullfighting.

"A lot of insurance companies stay away from us, but we have good insurance with the (Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association), and the Justin Sportsmedicine Team keeps us together," Tuckness said.

Tuckness enters the ring with enough tape on his ankles to make a mummy envious, braces on both knees and football cleats.

He expects to return to a normal schedule next year and work 50 to 60 rodeos that will include 130 to 160 performances. That means he'll often be nose to snout with more than 1,000 bucking bulls that like humans at rodeos only when they're putting out feed.

A former all-Wyoming high school football player, Tuckness willingly lays his life on the line for bull riders, who have voted him the PRCA Bullfighter of the Year in each of the past two years.

On Thursday night, he began getting ready to charge bulls when he detected a rider might get bucked off or as the last few moments wound down on a successful eight-second ride.

The athleticism and derring-do required to be a bullfighter is surpassed only by passion and commitment.

"Yeah, we're crazy," Tuckness said. "But the risk factor is high with everything in rodeo."

In rodeo, the toughest men wear makeup.

Jeff Wolf is a freelance reporter. He can be reached at (702) 406-8165 or nitrorodeo@gmail.com.