Running of the Bulls

   

     Instead of counting sheep, I decided to count bulls for a change. One good thing about insomnia is that you can watch things you would otherwise never care to see, such as the live coverage of the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona, Spain.
     It's a commentating role I'd be lousy at, though I did find the bull of the announcers as entertaining as the bulls in the streets. Describing things such as the reason for the steers (ie. the brown and white bovine mixed in with the bulls, there to "steer" things along --go figure) ...the formations (it was a 2-2-2-3-1 at the finish of the third) and of course, the carnage (which I suppose is why everybody watches this sport in the first place), these guys had it made in their lofty perch, high above the maddening crowd.

     The guy in the middle (picture to the right) got gored in the leg last year and came back to do it again...(Why, I do not know, but it got him on TV. The announcer called the incident "the worst Gore since Tipper" which explains the expression on the other announcer's face).
     Unlike Daytona where I hear folks go for the wrecks, I never like to see things end badly (which is why I don't watch racing), but in this race, I confess: I was rooting for the bulls. (Run Little Bulls, RUN!)
     To better appreciate Hemmingway I confess to once attending a bullfight while in Spain and despite the sparkly costume of the matador, it wasn't pretty.  I can say "been there/done that" (and I did not want the T-shirt).  I can also say: Ban this sport already...or at least, let the bulls run to green pastures and not to the fate that awaits them.