Was ’The First Rockstar of Rodeo’

laid-back dad, Butch, recognize the value in such a unique opportunity, I get the giggles thinking about how his rodeo supermom, Joy, took the news that they would step away from the junior-rodeo trail for an entire season. Could her hair be redder if it caught fire from the thought of No Rodeos?? “If all a kid wanted to be was a quarterback, and Tom Brady said, ‘Why don’t you come hang out with me?’ That’s what it felt like for me at the time,” Ty remembers well. “The greatest cowboy of all time was telling me to come on. I couldn’t wait to get there.”

Interestingly, in their 40-plus years of sharing their lives, Ty says Larry never did tell him one thing about how to ride. Bull recognized that Butch had already instilled a firm foundation for his boy to build on. Instead, Larry went straight to testing Ty’s mettle, and completing his cowboy package with complementary strengths he knew would matter to his overall success. One of the earliest lessons was not to be shy, or shy away from opportunities outside the status-quo box. Early that summer, Larry had a speaking engagement at an Indian reservation, where he spoke to over 500 people, including a lot of kids who’d been in trouble. “It was the biggest crowd I’d ever seen,” recalls Ty, who was wide-eyed about it at the time. “Next thing I know, Mahan’s calling me to the podium.”

The Great American Cowboy (1973), produced and directed by Kieth Merrill, focused on the 1972 competition between Mahan and 1971 all-around champion Phil Lyne, who won the 1972 title, too. Mahan captured his sixth all-around title in 1973, breaking the record set by Jim Shoulders in 1959. The Great American Cowboy won the Academy Award for documentary in 1974.

Larry introduced 13-year-old Ty as rodeo’s next big thing—a cowboy superstar in the making—and without warning turned over the microphone and told the crowd, “You need to listen to what he has to say.” Naturally, 13-year-old Murray was mortified. But he mustered up a few words of wisdom for his young peers, and moments like that one came in handy years later. They taught him how to be at ease when he was put on the spot countless times during the glory days that were further down his road. And that was not Mahan’s first test of young Murray.

“We took Larry’s private plane to that event on the reservation,” Ty said. “I’d been on one plane in my life, and that was a commercial flight to get to his place that summer. When we got in his plane, Mahan showed me the basics around the cockpit, and gave me a two-minute crash course on how to fly an airplane. “Then he pulled out a pillow from behind his seat, fluffed it up and told me he was going to take a nap. All he said was, ‘Keep the dash level with the horizon.’ I couldn’t even see over the dash to keep it level with the horizon. “I was white-knuckling it, trying to keep us alive. About 15 minutes later, he woke up with a big yawn and took back over. I didn’t know until years later than he was just faking that nap. I was trying to keep the dash level with the horizon for all I was worth.”

A lot of you know Ty’s become a handy horseman over the years. He broke two of Mahan’s colts that summer at 13, and—vintage Mahan—the methods were anything but conventional. “I’d be on a colt the first time, he’d come running up horseback, rope the colt I was on, open the gate, then off we’d go into the big wide open on the ranch,” Ty remembers. “But later that summer, we rode those colts in the grand entry at the Pikes Peak or Bust Rodeo in Colorado Springs.”

Larry introduced young Ty to a whole wide world of opportunity, inside the arena and beyond. “It was important that Mahan came into my life,” Ty said. “He talked to me about the importance of doing interviews, and said things like, ‘People can’t fathom what it’s like to ride a bull. Tell them what it looks like, feels like and smells like.’ “I made more money outside of the arena than in the arena. That was because of Larry. He’s the one who told me not to shy away from the media. He’s why I agreed to be on ‘Dancing with the Stars.’

“Larry Mahan was the first rockstar of rodeo. He came along and became the first superstar of our sport who went outside of our little niche and out into the world.” Part of their bond had to be their being able to relate to each other while breathing the most rarified rodeo air there is. They competed in the same three dangerous, demanding events at the same end of the arena, and they dominated. And that came with a bull’s-eye on their backs that was relatable for them both. I’ll never forget how it used to hurt my heart when Ty got to the top, was smashing records right and left, and people would take pot shots at him. He would calmly tell me, “Toots, jealousy is a very ugly emotion.” Let me guess, he got such wisdoms from his talks and time with Mahan. Others had no way of knowing what it was like to live their lives. They say it’s lonely at the top for a reason. But they did not need approval beyond the sweat-equityearned self-satisfaction in their souls. “Mahan left a big mark on me, for sure,” Ty said. “I have a million great memories, and he and I will be forever linked.” The kid in this story is 53 now, and seeing his hero in his final hours was a reminder that, “We’re all on the same ride, and we better not be wasting any of it.”

Even in death, Larry had one last life lesson for the kid he thought of as a second son. Fate is fierce and strong, and Larry’s son, Ty Mahan, preceded him in death when he passed away at 53 three years ago. I’m told son Ty’s wife, Christina, has been a real blessing in his life since Larry’s beloved wife, JuleAnn, headed to Heaven just ahead of him. Mahan is survived by his daughters, Eliza and Lisa. Born November 21, 1943 in Salem, Oregon, Larry passed peacefully at home in Valley View, Texas, today, May 7, 2023, with his beautiful daughters by his side. He was 79. Ride high, Mahan. You earned it.