Imagine a clown.
Most people picture someone with a foam nose juggling tennis balls or balancing on a unicycle. Some think of the clown who twists squeaking balloons into the shape of animals. Still others might see Pennywise from Stephen King’s It and have trouble sleeping tonight.
Few think of the rodeo clown—the daring clown that jumps between a violent bull and a helpless bull rider. The rodeo clown is a cowboy’s guardian angel; he is the alpha clown of the clown world.
Actually, the profession’s complete title is “rodeo clown bullfighter,” according to Seth Doulton, executive director of the Santa Maria Elks Rodeo and a former clown.
Doulton was a bullfighter from 1970 to 1982, and said throwing his body at the mercy of a raging bull was never a childhood ambition. The opportunity came to him by chance, simply because Doulton showed up to work one day and a bullfighter didn’t.
“The owner of the rodeo says, ‘You can do it.’ I said, ‘What do you mean I can do it?’” recounted Doulton. “It’s like asking to run in there and wrestle an alligator or something. Sure I can do it, but I’m going to get my leg bitten off.”
Though Doulton didn’t have any experience bullfighting, he’d spent more time running away from bulls than riding on their backs, and figured he could handle it. He decided to take the job, and found bullfighting came naturally to him, and figured he could make a living doing it.
“The good thing about being a rodeo clown bullfighter is that you get paid no matter what happens,” Doulton explained. “I used to get about $100 to $150 a performance, which is one night of a rodeo. Now they get anywhere from $500 to $750 per performance.”
Though clowns are guaranteed a paycheck, it’s by no means easy money.
“The bad thing about being a bullfighter [as opposed to being a bull rider] is that instead of riding one bull you have to protect anywhere from 14 to 16 bull riders a night, by running in front of a bull,” Doulton said.
Like any athlete, the rodeo clown must train for strength and endurance. Doulton improved his cardio by running on sand and training against the ocean tide to build his leg strength.
“I did what I could to build up my stamina,” he said. “There isn’t a lot of time to catch your breath out there, so stamina is a big thing.”
A successful rodeo clown must have quick reflexes and be able think on his feet. Doulton said the best attribute is being able to move like a jackrabbit while staying low to the ground.
“‘Catty’ is the best word to describe it,” Doulton said. “It’s like dodge ball. If you’re able to fake people out and know when the last minute to move is, that quality right there is the best thing you can possess to be a good bullfighter.”
When a 2,000-pound bull is rushing toward a clown like he’s holding a double cheeseburger, Doulton explained, there are three essential things he needs to have: a calm mind, his wits, and one hell of a stutter step.
A bull’s anatomy allows it to be fast and powerful, while it’s running in a straight line. The advantage a clown has over the bull is his ability to cut sharp angles. By moving at 45-degree angles toward the shoulder of a bull, Doulton explained, the clown can maintain a balance point between himself and the horns, decreasing the likelihood of getting struck.
“You have to outsmart them and reel them in very close,” Doulton said. “You run at their horns. The closer you are to the bull, the better you can control him.”
Due to the science of selective breeding, bulls are much stronger today than they were during Doulton’s time. This requires more athleticism from clowns, as well as concerted teamwork to ensure the cowboys’ safety.
While the bull and the cowboy are in the bullpen, two clowns wait on each side of the gate. When the gate opens, the first clown to reach the bull distracts it while the second clown gets the cowboy away to safety. The clown distracts the bull in any way he can—pulling his tail, slapping him on the nose, or making vulgar noises that a bull might interpret as an insult.
However, getting close to a charged-up bull has its risks: Doulton has suffered a broken ankle, broken legs, a collapsed lung, a torn diaphragm, six broken ribs, and nearly severed his tongue in two pieces.
But the consequences are a part of the job, Doulton said, and the No. 1 priority for every clown is to protect the bull rider at all costs.
“The most important thing for a bullfighter is to have the cowboy safe and have him thank us. I don’t care if 5,000 people are all standing and giving me an ovation, if the cowboy is angry with me, that hurts me,” said Doulton. “I want to make sure that that cowboy is safe, and know that I did the very best I could do to get him to safety. That’s where the pride lies.”
Intern Jason Banania is always clowning around in the office. Contact him at intern@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in May 17-24, 2012.