
Under the bright lights and the roaring cheers of the crowd, rodeo riders appear larger than life — fearless, strong, and free. Yet beyond the dust and the drama lies a quieter truth few fans ever see: many of these athletes are struggling just to stay in the game.
Interviews with several professional and semi-pro rodeo competitors across the U.S. reveal a harsh reality — the majority work second or even third jobs to afford their passion. Despite the glamour often portrayed on television, rodeo life is anything but lucrative. Prize money can be unpredictable, travel expenses are steep, and sponsorship deals are rare outside the top tier.
“It’s not the kind of sport you do to get rich,” says 28-year-old bull rider Cody Henson from Texas, who works nights at a feed store to pay for his entry fees and equipment. “You do it because it’s in your blood. But when you’re driving 10 hours between rodeos, sleeping in your truck, and hoping you don’t get hurt — it starts to wear you down.”
A recent report from the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association (PRCA) underscores his point: only the top 15 riders in most categories make enough to live solely off winnings. For the rest, the dream comes with a high personal cost — not only financially, but physically and emotionally.
Female riders face similar challenges. Barrel racer Jenna Morales from Oklahoma says she works part-time as a veterinary assistant to fund her horse’s training and travel. “My horse eats before I do,” she laughs, “but that’s just how it goes. Every run is a gamble — if you don’t place, you lose money. But when you do win, even a small check makes you feel like you can breathe again.”
The costs add up fast. Between gas, entry fees, veterinary bills, and gear, riders can spend thousands each month just to compete. Injuries make things worse — a single broken arm or torn ligament can end a season and pile on debt.
Despite the struggles, most say they wouldn’t trade the life for anything. “It’s a hard road, but the feeling you get when that gate opens — that’s freedom,” says Henson. “For those few seconds, you’re not thinking about bills or work. You’re flying.”
Still, many believe the rodeo industry needs reform to better support its athletes. Ideas like guaranteed minimum payouts, insurance programs, and travel stipends have been floated, but few have gained traction. “People see the cowboy hats and the trophies,” Morales says, “but not the sacrifices behind them.”
Behind every eight-second ride is a story of endurance — not just of man versus beast, but of working-class grit versus financial reality. These riders chase glory on the weekend, then clock in on Monday morning — proving that the heart of rodeo isn’t just courage in the arena, but resilience in everyday life.
As one veteran cowboy put it: “We ride for love, not money — and that’s why it’s real.”