[Editor’s note: Today at PBR.COM, we’re pleased to bring you a glimpse of the kind of in-depth coverage normally available only to readers of Pro Bull Rider magazine – the official magazine of the PBR. Published six times a year, the lavishly illustrated Pro Bull Rider is available exclusively to members of the PBR Fan Club, and features the kind of insider information you just can’t find anywhere else. For more information about the fan club, and to find out how to receive Pro Bull Rider magazine at home, visit TEAMPBR.COM. This story originally appeared in the June/July 2010 issue. –Jeff]

He was starry eyed at the sight of 46,000 PBR fans filing into Cowboys Stadium last February, but there is nothing unusual about seeing Tino Martinez smile.

After all, the 56-year-old is rarely seen at a Built Ford Tough Series event – or anywhere else, for that matter – without his trademark grin.

From the day he first saw the PBR on television, he’s been enamored with professional bull riding. But he never dreamed that one day he’d be providing top-ranked bulls for those televised events.

Then, four years ago, he and his son Edward, 31, purchased 10 bulls from Terry Carter to provide some stock for Mexican rodeos in the Dallas area. That plan changed after contractors Chuck Griffith, David Wisener and Kevin Loudamy saw the Martinez bulls firsthand.

“[Wisener] said, ‘Tino, if you have good bulls, you can go to the PBR and you can see your bulls on TV,’” Martinez remembered. “I said, ‘Oh, David, get out of here.’”

“They said these bulls are pretty good and they don’t need to be going to the Mexican rodeo,” Edward recalled. After watching the bulls buck in a practice pen at Lufkin Ranch, Wisener told them, “They need to be going somewhere else.”

By “somewhere else,” he meant the Built Ford Tough Series.

PBR Livestock Director Cody Lambert said it was Loudamy who first called him to tell him about Martinez. Within a few weeks, Tino and Edward loaded up six of their 10 bulls and drove to New Orleans.

Once they arrived, father and son worked together to unload their bulls. They asked for only one chute pass, which Edward used so that he could flank the animals. Tino sat in the crowd.

Two bulls had already bucked, and a third – Buckwheat – dusted Brian Canter. An impressed Justin McKee asked his broadcast partners, “Who is this Tino Martinez? I’ve never heard of him.”

Martinez, it turns out, was right next to the Versus booth.

“I heard Justin McKee say, ‘Who is this Tino Martinez?’” he recalled. “I’m sitting out in the chair right next to him, and I said, ‘It’s me.’ He said, ‘No, really, you’re Tino Martinez?’ … He said, ‘OK, OK.’

“He didn’t believe me.”

Coming to America

Martinez came to the United States in 1970 with five dollars in his pocket.

He had grown up in Ocampo, a small village in the mountain region of central Mexico where paved roads were unknown. Born Fausto Martinez – he took the name Tino after coming to the States – he was one of 14 children. He went to work when he was 8 years old, with only a second-grade education.

Most kids in Ocampo leave school at second grade, because at that point they are finally strong enough to work in the fields. “My dad put me out working for somebody,” recalled Martinez, who has been working 12 to 16-hour days ever since.

For years, he worked at various farms and ranches, dreaming of a steady job.

“I expected to be working for somebody,” he said. “It’s what I expected—working, working, working.”

The day came when Martinez left his new bride Maria, pregnant with their first daughter, and traveled north to the United States.

“He came just to better himself,” said Edward. “There was no life [in Mexico].”

After hitchhiking his way to Dallas, Tino worked as a day laborer until finding a job at The Gold Ox, a well-established Mexican restaurant in Mesquite.

He settled in as a dishwasher and busboy, carefully observing the other employees. He learned to cook, and could soon prepare the entire menu. His work ethic impressed restaurant owner Harold Lawson and his wife Lily, who took a liking to the hardworking immigrant and encouraged him to send for his family.

One day, when the cook didn’t come to work, Martinez approached Lawson.

“I can do the same job that he was doing,” he said.

“To make a long story short, he took over that man’s job,” said Edward.

In 1989, Lawson was diagnosed with cancer, and told Tino that he planned to sell the restaurant.

“He was going to pass away and he [told] me, ‘You gotta go somewhere else, because I’m going to be gone in the next few months,” Martinez recalled.

By that point, Tino was living with his wife and three children (Mayra, Edward and Zoyla). When disagreements arose with the new owners, he and Maria decided to open a restaurant of their own.

It was small location – slightly bigger than a taco stand – with room enough for 10 tables. In a short time, though, the daily line of patrons began to stretch out into the parking area. After trying to squeeze in a few more tables, they eventually relocated Martinez Mexican Restaurant to a strip mall down the street.

In 1998, the mostly-empty mall was for sale. Martinez was worried that the new owners would raise his rent, so he bought it himself. “We didn’t have much money, but we had a good bank,” Edward said.

Faced with a mall full of empty stores, Martinez went to work. He quickly filled all the stores, negotiating with anyone who inquired, offering six months of free rent in exchange for five-year commitments. He built a new free-standing restaurant adjacent to the mall’s parking area.

By 2005, he sold the mall for three times what he had paid for it, opened two more restaurants, and bought a 450-acre ranch.

It was a life he had never dreamed possible.

“No,” laughed Martinez, “no, we never dreamed like this.”

A whole new world

Still, there was a sadness in his voice when he spoke of Ocampo. He had hoped to return when he reaches 60 – to retire to the 10-bedroom, eight-bath home he owns there. But that part of his dream will never come to be: It’s far too dangerous for a wealthy man in Mexico today. He has sold most of his land there along with his Mexican bulls, and eventually will sell the house.

On the whole, however, his is a life of genuine joy.

He still thrills at the thought of his animals being on television. He giggles at the growing number of bulls Lambert selects from him week after week.

Far West. Top Notch. Say When. And dozens of others that he and Edward have bought or raised.

Once he’d experienced the BFTS, Tino told his son, “I like being here,” and the two have worked as hard finding top-level bulls as they did to establish their chain of restaurants.

Edward, who is three semesters shy of a bachelor’s degree, has developed a profound understanding of his dad’s story.

“America is the land of opportunity, and whoever wants to do something, all you have to do is work hard,” he said. “My dad worked everything. He worked every day. He worked hard for everything he’s had. We’re glad for America, because it’s the American dream.”

“We’re blessed,” said the elder Martinez with a smile, “very blessed, that’s all.

“The thing is, God helped me on the business. I’m nothing bad. I take care of my family, the business, the bulls—that’s what I do. The U.S. is a good opportunity for everybody.”

Lambert, who has gotten to know Martinez through many early-morning telephone conversations, put it in perspective. “It’s what this country is about,” he said. “It makes everybody feel good, but it should motivate people, too. It should make people want to go work and do more.”

“It’s an incredible story,” McKee said. “You talk about the all-American dream—it’s him.

“He makes me smile. More than that, he makes me realize people can smile all the time.”

— by Keith Ryan Cartwright