On the morning of August 22, 1998, Chicago Animal Rights Coalition members Greg Hindi and Ike Goetsch attended a bullfighting school in San Diego, the so-called California Academy of Tauromaquia, to receive a free introductory lesson.
The “school,” and the two individuals who run it, drew our attention via media reports. Having recently documented the actuality of 28 recent bullfights with close-up video, we now hoped to explore the bullfighter mentality.
Greg and Ike were on time. Instructors Peter Rombold and Coleman Cooney came late. There were supposed to be other students, including some from Mexico, but only one other person showed up, a young woman named Patricia, who accompanied one of the instructors.
Greg and Ike had been promised a structured lesson, including plenty of physical exercise. They were told their movements would be videotaped for later review. That was just a sales pitch. The whole presentation was loose to the point of being a joke.
There were no bulls, heifers or other animals involved. Although lethal bullfighting is illegal throughout the United States, so-called “bloodless” bullfights are allowed in some places––but there was none of that here.
Greg and Ike dutifully followed Rombold and Cooney’s directions. It must be mentioned that neither Rombold nor Cooney has ever been a professional cowkiller. Rombold bragged about killing a few dozen bulls over the past few decades, although a professional cowkiller would easily commit the same slaughter in as many weeks. Cooney had just killed his first cow, a very small animal, just a couple of weeks earlier. Perhaps the funniest part of the day was that these two arrogant, insecure individuals considered themselves in a position to give instruction to anyone about anything.
I waited and observed the charade from approximately 400 feet away. I wanted desperately to join it, but was afraid the cow killers might recognize me from media reports on rodeos and other animal cruelty issues.
The lesson began with predictable hype about how beautiful the bulls are, and how much their torturers admire their bravery. The cowkillers described bullfighting as “a passion” and “a love.” Then Cooney, in Patricia’s presence, likened stabbing a bull to “popping a girl’s cherry.”
The cow killers taught Greg and Ike the meaning of a “dirty animal.” That is a practice animal, usually a young heifer, who has fought before. She is called “dirty” because, having fought before, she now has some knowledge of what is going on, and therefore has a better chance of realizing that the real threat to her is not the cape, but the person behind it.
Apparently, these cowkillers only find beauty in and have respect for ignorant, easily killed animals. Smart ones are “dirty.”
The cowkillers admitted that the sadists who spear the bulls from on horseback, preceding the capework, inflict injuries which would be fatal––eventually––if the bulls weren’t killed by the sadists with the swords. They admitted that the whole purpose of both the long spear and the short harpoons which follow is to weaken their hapless victim, who is wounded for the first time before even entering the arena. They confessed that facing an animal who is not already mortally wounded would involve more risk than they were willing to take.
The cowkillers described the bulls as warriors, who deserved to die a “warrior’s death.” They explained that using a gang of armed thugs to torture and kill an already mortally wounded animal somehow meant they were also warriors. This apparently elevates the status of every thug street gang who ever ambushed some poor soul for the purpose of a cheap robbery, rape or thrill-killing.
Ike and Greg were taught that the torture and slaughter of bovine victims must be showy. They were told to stand tall, with their feet together. They were to puff their chests out, and suck their stomachs in.
Ike pointed out how different this is from the stance of a boxer, wrestler, or judoka. Competitive athletes know the importance of keeping low, to maintain balance, stability, and the ability to move quickly and precisely. The bullfighting stance is by contrast not preparation for combat, but rather a goofy rooster mating strut, all show and no go.
About two and a half hours after the lesson started, Greg and Ike had heard all they could tolerate. After a short break, during which Greg, Ike and I discussed our finale, the “students” headed back to the cowkillers. Greg now wore a t-shirt that read “I abuse animal abusers.” Cowkiller Rombold saw it almost immediately, reacting with shock and surprise. He didn’t know what to think. Was it just a joke, or had they been taken in?
Moment
of truth
Their answer was not long in coming, as I was right on Greg’s heels.
With a video camera documenting every word, I approached Rombold and told him I had come 2,000 miles to invite him to a real contest. We would happily meet the cowkillers some place, probably Mexico, where there could be another kind of fight. We would take the place of their usual victims. The cowkillers would not be allowed to use their usual band of thugs, nor their weapons, unless we were equipped the same way.
It would be a fair fight: one on one.
Rombold couldn’t believe it.
“I’m not a violent person,” he squeaked repeatedly. He described himself as “a peaceful man; a very kind and loving person.” Yes; he actually said that. He called for the support and comfort of his partner, Mr. Cooney. Once joined, they became a little cocky, until they realized that they were looking at three very determined antis. This had a calming effect.
In truth, these boys were scared. Patricia, who had not yet killed an animal, tried to explain to us the true meaning of cowkilling. When Ike and I explained we had close-up documentation of the torture-killings of 28 bulls, she literally began to shake. Ike took over, explaining his convictions in his very quiet, calm manner. Greg and I returned to Rombold and Cooney. We pressed them to just say yes to our challenge. But they clearly valued their safety far more than their honor. They lamented that Greg and Ike had not been truthful about their intentions. Ike told them to remember that the next time they hide behind their capes, fooling their already wounded victims into enduring still more torture.
Rombold said we could have spent our money much better. This was an interesting comment from one who admittedly spends plenty in traveling to Mexico, Spain and wherever else he can commit acts which are illegal at home. His conduct reminded me of the killers I have often confronted at the annual pigeon slaughter in Hegins, Pennsyvlania, to which many participants journey from long distances to take advantage of a rare opportunity to inflict wanton bloodshed without undertaking any personal risk.
When Rombold again showed his frustration by acting out stabbing a bull in the back of the neck, I asked him if he was sure he wanted to be a bad-ass. He again backed off in a hurry.
It ended, predictably, with the cowkillers exiting the field. We spent the rest of the day in Tijuana. Greg and I fed stray dogs, while Ike fed, bought from, and outright gave money to street kids. Somehow, I just don’t envision the cowkillers concerning themselves with such activities when they head south.
[Steve Hindi is founder and president of CHARC.]