Behold the mighty bull. Not only is this fierce creature a symbol of our heritage, an emblem of a time when the continent was a menacing, untamed wilderness, it also happens to be delicious.

Most of us experience the allure of the bull not so much on the vast wind-swept plains of cowboy lore but at Burger King. So maybe it's a good thing that the Professional Bull Riders tour is coming to town this weekend for the Enterprise Rent-a-Car Classic. We could use a reminder of what these great beasts are truly made of. Besides ground chuck, that is.

The PBR promises to show us bulls in all their glory. Popular out West, the Colorado-based circuit has been expanding eastward in recent years. Thanks to broadcast deals with NBC and OLN, the riding of the bulls is making inroads in places where the buffalo don't roam and the deer and the antelope don't play. Savvis Center being one of those places, bull-riding enthusiasts may find a few confused newbies in their midst come Friday. For the befuddled fans we offer the following FAQ.
Yes, and so are the circuit's organizers. PBR officials have modeled their enterprise on stock-car racing. NASCAR was once a Southern phenomenon, but it branched out into other parts of the country by catering to families and marketing stars as ordinary people. PBR chief Randy Barnard told The New York Times he sees similar potential in bull riding. "If you lay the NASCAR (demographics) over our demos, they're almost identical," Barnard said. That might sound like a load of, uh, bull, but consider this: Since the PBR was founded in 1992, it has parlayed $20,000 in start-up money into a $40 million business. Is that serious enough for you?

I've decided to go. What are my chances of survival?

Good. Unless you're a rider, in which case the odds decrease. "Every time these guys go out there to ride, there is a realistic risk of being maimed or killed," PBR medical chief Tandy Freeman states on the circuit's Web site. The news ticker atop the site supports this claim. It reads like an ER doctor's nightmare shift: broken shoulder blade ... bruised liver ... concussion ... knee sprain ... broken collarbone. Head injuries are common, but few riders wear helmets, which interfere with peripheral vision and detract from the sport's aura of fearless machismo. "It's an issue we're struggling with," Freeman says.

So, who's worth watching?

Start with the bulls. The rodeo bull is essentially a 2,000-pound keg of testosterone sheathed in muscle and armed with two lethal bayonets. The "animal athletes," as they're called, are among the circuit's most popular personalities. They are ranked and celebrated, with OLN once airing a biography of an especially dangerous bull named Bodacious. The animals do more than cause mayhem; they help determine riders' scores. Of the 100 points a rider can accrue, the bull is responsible for 50. It's a degree-of-difficulty component similar to the ones used in Olympic sports. Except that no one goes by the name of Smokeless Wardance in figure skating.

What about the people?

The Built Ford Tough Series points leader is Chris Shivers, a Louisianan who in January became the first rider to surpass $3 million in career earnings. That'll buy a lot of surgical screws. Justin McBride is a fan favorite currently ranked sixth. McBride is part of a bull-riding family from Elk City, Okla. His grandfather was killed in the ring, and he has suffered a few setbacks himself since straddling a calf for the first time at age 3. McBride has had a lung punctured, a rib cracked and an ankle broken. But he was healthy enough last year to claim the world championship and the $1 million bonus that went with it.

Will bull riding change my life?

Possibly. Cowboy culture mixes the sacred and the profane. Groupies known as "buckle bunnies" take care of the latter, while bull-riding Christian outreach groups tackle the former. You read that right. Riding High Ministries holds church services in conjunction with PBR events and sees bull riding as a path to spirituality. "The world needs to see men who are fully alive," ministry organizers explain in their mission statement. "Men who are more afraid of not living life than they are of death itself. This is what these Christian bull riders exemplify. Meekness, not weakness."