The bull looks agitated. And that’s the point. He’s in an enclosed steel chute, no room to move, as a raucous crowd decked in Stetson hats and Ariat boots and all measures of pearl snaps and denim has filled AT&T Stadium in Dallas, Texas. They are screaming and hollering, anxious to see the phenom who has just mounted the beast’s back.
John Crimber is looking to find the sweet spot, adjusting his rear end on the bull’s tan-colored backside, his right hand gripping a rail while the left hand of someone outside the chute grabs the back of his collar, keeping him steady.
His heart is beating faster. His mind? It’s calm.
“I'm not really thinking much. I try to keep calm, and, you know, I've been working my whole life for this situation, so I just go back and clear my mind and do my job."
Firmly sheathed inside a thick leather glove, his left-hand flexes around the rope that hopefully tethers him to the bull for eight seconds. Both animal and human are fidgety and ready for a fight. Crimber looks up and makes eye contact with an official, his lips pursed firmly together, his right hand still tightly gripping that rail and he nods quickly, meaning open the gate.
A few feet on the other side of the chute, standing on the dirt floor freshly groomed specifically for the event, a bullfighter with a rakish mustache twirled at the ends and matching cowboy hat and boots pulls on a rope that sets free the dynamic everyone has been waiting for.
Crimber's sights are firmly set on winning the Gold Buckle, given to the top bull rider in the world. [Courtesy Bull Stock Media]
The teen phenom needs a score better than 92.25 to move into the lead.
Chute open.
The bull sees freedom and vaults into the open space. The crowd noise is now at a fever pitch as the great western duel — man vs. bull — is underway.
The bull launches immediately into a massive rear kick, its head near the dirt, Crimber leaning back, his right hand now free and raised above his head (his free hand cannot touch the bull or himself). The clock is running. The bull bucks again and just like that, Crimber looks like he’s in trouble, leaning hard to his right, his hand near the ground.
1.51 …
The bull is thrashing in the same patch of dirt, now bucking in circles, trying to throw his rider and punish him with its shaved horns and menacing hooves. Three more times the bull is snapping Crimber around like a doll. But Crimber has regained his center of gravity and he’s taking the whiplash with a confident ease.
4.28 …
A man off camera is yelling, “Woohoo! Woohoo! Woohoo!” as the most violent of rear kicks pushes Crimber so far back his head nearly touches the backside of the bull — twice. But he’s still on after three more thrusts from the impassioned bovine.
7.10 …
The last kick from the bull sends Crimber back and to his right, the animal pissed as hell — it’s gone on long enough — its snot-covered face and furious eyes leaning into the dirt, hind legs almost fully vertical, and Crimber flies off. Three bullfighters rush in to corral the spinning beast and protect the protégé, who scrambles to his feet.
8.00 … Or was it?
Crimber runs toward the center of the arena, removes his protective headgear and raises his arms in triumph. The announcer declares the judges are going to review the clock to make sure it’s right. A euphoric Crimber is exalting the crowd, like Russell Crowe in Gladiator.
Are you not entertained?
Indeed, they are now standing in ovation and saluting the future of the sport.
“He gets it!” the announcer screams as the ride is reviewed by the replay judge. “Allan Jordan gives the thumbs up! There might never have been a bigger thumb in the history of the World Finals! NINETY FIVE POINTS!”
Adrenaline fuels a sprint around the dirt as Crimber celebrates, flexes, screams, erupts in euphoria. In his first year on the professional tour, the kid from Decatur, Texas and the son of Professional Bull Riders star Paulo Crimber, has just completed the most extraordinary ride of his young life. His father rushes toward him, equally ablaze from the thrill. They embrace, still riding that bolt of lightning that came through that hole in the roof in that modern-day coliseum.
Even at 19, John Crimber is a full-fledged cowboy, branded at birth with a searing iron forged by his Brazilian father’s legacy as a professional bull rider.
His Texas drawl is heavy, spiced with spoonfuls of tang and sweetness. Each answer is preceded by a “yessir” or “no sir” in a way that brings to mind Billy Parham, the idealistic young cowboy protagonist in Cormac McCarthy’s The Crossing.
En route to Phoenix, Arizona, for his second season opener on the PBR tour, he’s already a seasoned interviewee, but that doesn’t mean he dismisses the questions or disengages.
He embraces them in a warm, polite manner that evokes a confident, cinematic image of the hardscrabble cowboy whose wisdom is well earned, whereby he reaches for the leading edge of his hat brim, backlit by a Texas sunset as beads of sweat bleed through a well-earned layer of trail dust from a day’s riding. A shy shuffle of his boot heel, a shift of his weight with a thumb tucked into a belt loop while a knowing smile holds a toothpick as his eyes crease from the blooming light.
Cliché aside, he admits his early childhood left no doubt about his future. He was born a cowboy and a bull rider.
“I guess I liked to ride about anything that I see, you know, like, if I saw a dog or a couch or whatever,” Crimber says. “Like, I didn't care what it was. I was getting on it. And I always wanted to be like my dad and turn it into more like, you know, riding bulls.”
As his father introduced him to the sport, he always made sure his son was riding something age-appropriate, whether that was a sheep (age four), calf (age six), steer (age eight), and from there it was junior steer, senior steer — when he turned 16 he was riding professional bulls.
His mother, Maria, did her part to keep the family legacy alive. While his father was still competing and working, it was Maria who looked after John and his younger sister Helena.
“She don't really come from a rodeo family, but she met my dad in Brazil, and, they found love, and, they came here to the United States because that's where my dad wanted to be. Because that's where dreams come true, you know?
“She really helped me get to where I'm at and when I was growing up, my dad worked for the PBR and stuff and he was never home on the weekends. So she's the one that had to take me to (competitions) on the weekends. If it wasn’t for her I don’t think I’d be where I am today.”
So where, exactly, is he today? He finished second on tour last year. Remember, that was his first season. During his freshman year of high school, he won the state and national championships for bull riding. Nobody has done that. Was that his first breakthrough?
“Yessir. Growing up, I always wanted to be high school champion … You know, it made me kind of believe in myself just a little bit more and know that I could be something special one day.”
As an 18-year-old in his first professional season, he won over $1,000,000 in prize money. He is sponsored by coveted brands. It begs the question, what’s left?
He doesn’t hesitate.
“The Gold Buckle,” he replies, referring to the World Championship buckle awarded at the PBR World Finals.
“This season, told myself I'm holding nothing back. Foot all the way down on the gas pedal. And, it ain't coming up anytime soon. I want to go out there and try to be the best every time.
“I feel like rookie year, you're kind of learning, and I think I learned a little bit. I had my problems, and I’m ready to go.”
Paulo Crimber, a 10-time qualifier for World Finals, used to celebrate big rides by breakdancing for the crowd. A younger John Crimber did the same. As he gets older, he’s finding his own brash style.
He preps for competitions by watching the Netflix documentary on former football star Johnny Manziel, who played at Texas A&M.
“I only watch the beginning of it, you know, before it gets bad,” he laughs. “I like watching whenever they play the ‘Bama game. There’s that quote, ‘Give to them nothing but take from them everything.’
“Shoot, that fires me up. Every time I get off the bull I’ll do the Johnny Manziel money sign. I do not want to be like him right after college. I want to be like him that one year when he was a freaking badass.”
John credits his father Paulo, lower right, as his inspiration. [Courtesy Bull Stock Media]
Now, John Crimber is that new kid from Texas with the emerging badass label. He admits the success he had in his first professional season caught him by surprise, but as the year went on, he began to believe more. So when he found himself in the PBR World Finals at AT&T Stadium, home of the Dallas Cowboys, within grasp of being the top bull rider in the world, the moment wasn’t lost on him.
“Yessir,” he quips. “Funny story. That bull, I drew him, and I was like, ‘Awe sheeeet, really? It's done for.’ I had to stay on to still be a contender for the world title. And, I really had no hopes. I don't know why. I just didn't really believe in myself very much, because that bull was tough, and no one's really rode him. Then, shoot, it surprised me. When I stepped off, I was like, ‘Dang, I just did it.’ Ninety-five points. It meant a lot to me.
“I feel like I lost the world title that day, but I learned a lot. I think I won a lot more than the world title that day and I took it as a positive.”
Named a finalist for Best Thriller 2024, The Scotland Project, the debut novel from Matthew Fults, is available now from your favorite bookseller.
