Father. Grandfather. Stock Contractor. Cowboy. Friend.

It is not often someone comes along who changes a sport, not with noise or spotlight, but with quiet conviction and unwavering integrity. Gene Owen was that kind of man.

It is with broken hearts that PBR fans, and everyone in the industry is left reeling following the sudden passing of Gene, one of the most respected stock contractors in professional bull riding. He was one of the best to ever do it. He was 66.

He left this earth the way a cowboy would hope to: boots and spurs on, aboard a new horse in the arena he built with his own two hands on Thursday morning. Gene had been doing what mattered most in the world to him—riding with his kids and grandkids. He was surrounded by the hoofbeats and heartbeats of the things closest to his heart. It was a beautiful, ordinary moment, made sacred by its simplicity. A cowboy’s final ride.

For over four decades, Gene was a pillar of the bucking bull world. Not just a stock contractor, but a caretaker and a steward of greatness. He was also a dedicated ambassador for the sport, always focused on what was best for the growth of PBR and the future of the stock contractor business. His name is stitched into the fabric of this sport, woven alongside some of the greatest bulls to ever walk through the out gate. Beautifully understated and humble, just like Gene.

His bull roster reads like a chapter from PBR history:

Cochise. American Gangster. Always Been Crazy. Moonlight Party. Lil 2 Train. Zorro. Exodus. Seven Dust.

And of course, Man Hater.

The bull that won back-to-back YETI World Champion Bull titles. The bull that helped redefine unrideable and brought record breaking scores along with it. The bull Gene once said he would not part with for a million dollars.

“At one hundred thousand dollars per title, he would need ten,” he would joke. 

But everyone knew it was never about the money. The love he had for that bull ran deeper than anything money could touch.

And yet, he never took the credit. Not for the titles. Not for the record-breaking scores. Gene always stepped back and pointed forward. To his co-owner Jane Clark. To the brave rider aboard. To his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. And most of all, to the bovine itself.

He beamed with quiet pride when the world took notice. But Gene preferred holding the rope to holding a microphone. He was not in it for the recognition. He was in it for the ride.

He cared deeply, not just for his bulls but for the people around him. He was one of the busiest stock contractors in the sport, but you would never know it from how present he always was. Behind the chutes or at the fence line, Gene always had a story, a laugh, and more often than not, a photo or two of his grandkids to proudly share.

For all the titles, the headlines and the history he helped write, Gene was, at his core, a family man. A grandpa.

He leaves behind his significant other and best friend Lari, a son, a daughter and four grandkids, as well as a whole sport full of cowboys, stockmen and friends who were better for knowing him.

Our deepest condolences go out to Gene’s family during this unimaginable time.

They say the best horses in Heaven have no tails, because the ones who loved them most could not bear to let them go. It is a badge of honor, a quiet sign of a life that was lived well and loved deeply.

We like to think Gene is riding one of those good ones now. The kind you save for someone special. Because if God needs a cowboy, He’s getting a top hand.

Thank you for everything, Gene. We will carry your stories forward, one handshake, one nod and one eight-second ride at a time.

Photo courtesy of Bull Stock Media