This past Sunday Lauren, both Ashley's and I went to a bull fight in Madrid. I have to admit, I was a but nervous about going. I did not really know what to expect from the spectacle when it came to goriness. It ended up to not be as bad as I had expected. Bullfighting can be traced back to prehistoric times with animal worship and sacrifice, but is many times associated with Rome. At the beginning of the fight, a bull is sent out and evaluated by the bullfighter for its aggressiveness and determination. After the bull is chosen, a “picador” comes out on horseback with a huge sort of sphere. The “picador” stabs the bull in the neck muscles a couple times in order to weaken the bull. Sometimes, the bull would charge the horse to the point of knocking it over. At this point, I felt worse for the horse than the bull. After the “picador” left, other matadors would try to stab the bull with two “banderillas” in order to further weaken the bulls neck muscles. The main matador then takes the stage to fight and attempt to kill the bull. The point of the fight is to show the man's control of the bull, and he shows his control by sometimes turning his back on the bull. If the matador is good, he can kill it with one stab in the neck, right to the heart. Unfortunately, many of these bulls needed several stabs to be killed, a sight I could have done without.
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