history of fools: rodeo clowns
like what you heard? tell me about it!here is the full script and list of references for my episode on rodeo clowns! i also threw some images in there for fun :) if you would prefer to read this in a google doc, click here!
referencesmy primary source for this episode was Fearless Funnymen: The History of the Rodeo Clown by Gail Hughbanks Woerner. This was a fun read, a bit scattered, but ultimately undeniably in love with its subject matter. I also used The Rodeo Historical Society Site and Inside the Ring with Rodeo Clowns. I also highly recommend reading The Cattlemen by Marie Sandoz. It doesn't have anything to do with rodeo clowns it's just a really solid and evocative history book about the origins of cowboys in the American Southwest which is a favorite topic of mine so you know I gotta plug it here.
section list
Crete
Rodeo History
Send in the Clowns
The Role of the Clowns
Entertainer v Bullfighter v Barrelman
Notable Clowns
X-Games-Ification
I want you to imagine with me for a minute here. Close your eyes. Unless you’re driving. If you’re on a horse that’s probably fine though. As long as the horse doesn’t close its eyes. Anyways. Let’s go on a trip.
It’s the year 1883. You are a ranch hand. You live somewhere out in the new american west, but really, you don’t spend much time living in a single abode. Because your occupation requires you to drive cattle for the ranch owner you’re employed by to market to sell in bulk. You and a group of a dozen or so other ranch hands roundup around a thousand or so head of cattle. Longhorns, usually, which were brought to the American continent a few hundred years back by the Spanish Conquistadors. These Longhorns are the descendants of the stock that escaped and grew feral, adapting to the harsh land by becoming highly resistant to drought, hunger, and stress over just a couple centuries. And also horns that grow several feet long. Found on both the bulls and the cows. Everyone in the herd comes equipped with a pair of lethal weapons that are simply not to be fucked with.
You and your compadres on your horses drive these longhorns across the gorgeous and harsh and stunning and terrible terrain of New Mexico, Texas, Utah, Wyoming, Oklahoma… to reach one of the precious few trading hubs to the east. Western expansion is something of a work in progress right now. You travel hundreds or even thousands of miles with this stock, averaging around 12 miles a day so as not to run them ragged and lose their valuable, delicious meat. This takes you anywhere from one to 3 months. You do not have tents. You sleep under the stars every night, by campfires of varying quality. You snack on dried meat and beans and not much else. You are constantly rationing water. You spend your days hunting down strays that veer off course and staving off heatstroke. You fend off coyotes and vultures and various other predators. You and the horses and the cows swim across lethally fast rivers, because again, due to the work in progress nature of the American west, there are no bridges. You fend off attacks and thefts by rival ranch hands and the various Native populations who are pretty pissed at you and your thousand-cow-wide parade just waltzing through their homes. You and the other dozen hands don’t talk much, as your jobs dictate a generous spread to watch over the massive swath of cattle, but you operate primarily on a decent baseline of respect.
Most of the time.
Then one day, some asshole starts bragging about how good he is at roping. Well, actually, you’re the best roper here. And dang your melt you want to make sure that dogdasted fool knows it. After some blowharding and bickering and bitching and back and forth you finally agree to a contest to prove who really is the fastest cowpoke to tie a rope around an animal’s feet. This is of the utmost importance to you. You’re in Pecos, Texas, by the way, and you agree to meet at a nice flat area outside of town where there’s plenty of room for running around. Naturally, once this has been determined, other cowboys hear about this pretty much immediately because cowboys are insatiable fucking gossips, and they want to join in too to prove their mettle. Then, the townsfolk hear about this. And since it’s 1883 in South Eastern Texas in a town of less than a couple thousand and there’s not exactly a lot of other wholesome excitement going on, they want to watch. And wouldn’t you fuckin know it, it’s 4th of July weekend too! Everybody can take the day off to gather and enjoy watching these roughhousers roughhouse. All of these factors combine and on the day in question you manage, in front of a probably too-large crowd, to chase down a calf on a horse, hop down, and tie its helpless little legs up in 22 seconds. You win!
Also, you just created the first ever rodeo. Congratulations.
That’s right cowpokes, get your Stetsons, grab your bolos, and put on your best runnin boots cus today we’re going to get into the history of the woefully underappreciated rodeo clown. We’re also going to talk a bit about Minoan Crete, because it’s my podcast and I can talk about whatever of my niche interests I want.
When you take a few seconds to really think about a rodeo, it just makes sense how it evolved. People like contests. People like animals. People who work with animals will use animals in contests, and other people will get enjoyment out of watching it. A no-brainer really. When you talk about rodeo clowns though, that can be kind of a puzzler. How do we get from someone like Joseph Grimaldi, an English acrobatic stage performer, to a guy in baggy britches getting chased into a barrel by a 2000 pound lethal animal? At its core, it simply boils down to the opiate of the masses: a funny goofy guy to laugh at.
Crete
Before I start proselytizing the virtue of the humble rodeo clown, I’m gonna drag you back a few thousand years, to Minoan Crete. Because I said so.
Crete is a large island off the coast of Greece, in the Mediterranean Sea. If you’re familiar with any of the ancient Mediterranean cultures, you know those guys loooooved bulls. Bulls were a staple of those cultures- they were food, they were sacrifices, they were mythological inspiration, they were beasts of burden. There’s a whole astrological sign based on them, the ancient greek word for bull literally being tauros. And the predecessors of the ancient Greeks, the Minoans, had a very fun relationship with their bulls. We have several different depictions from that time period of young men engaging in Bull Leaping. This is exactly what you think it is. The depictions often show a young man either doing a backflip or wide leap over a fully grown bull. From what I read, it’s thought that this was like a sport for rich kids. Like water polo, only infinitely more impressive and logical. Now, there are some historians who think these do not depict the actions of real life Minoans, but are rather depictions of their myths. Minoan language is currently undeciphered. Although they are the predecessors of the ancient Greeks our language is derived from, theirs is one that linguists cannot pin down.They call it Linear A, the companion to Linear B, the earliest known form of Greek used by the Mycenaens. Linear A is a beautiful looking script, like a combination of Japanese, Greek, and Arabic. You should look it up sometime, it’s so cool. And you should see if you can decode it! Archaeologists would be really happy with you if you did. But, point is, the fact that we can’t read it means we don’t know what their myths and rituals really were. So maybe they didn’t really do bull leaping. But in my opinion, fuck that, i want to believe that there were rich kids doing backflips over bulls in their free time. And besides, even if they didn’t, it’s still reflective of the rodeo spirit. It betrays one of the inherent desires born to the human subconscious: The desire to do sick tricks with a large animal.
Fun fact for those who aren’t nerds- all 3 of you- the Minoan civilization is widely thought to be the inspiration for the ancient Greek myth of the minotaur. Not only does the name jive- i mean come on, minoan, mino-taur, king minos, you get it- The minoans had remarkable sprawling palaces on their island that could very easily be described as labyrinthian. Pair that with a mysterious disappearance of their people, the myth just makes itself. Another fun fact for those 3 of you who aren’t nerds, this civilization and their sudden unexplained disappearance are also thought to be the origin of the myth of Atlantis. But, I digress. The point is the Minoans were an impressive civilization with a very rich culture, and their particular investment in the bulls they lived alongside is echoed in the rodeo tradition we have today.
Rodeo History
Anyways, back to the rodeo. If we’re being honest here, events similar to rodeos here happening plenty across the american west before the first “real” recorded rodeo took place in 1883. From Gail Woerner’s Fearless Funnymen, one of my main sources for this episode: “the first rodeo was never recorded. It was a spontaneous event that evolved when two or more cowboys needed to prove who was the best at cowboyin’”. Up to that fateful day in Pecos there were plenty of small exhibitions and contests between cowboys and vaqueros working to show off their skills. Vaqueros were literally the original cowboys- they were cattlemen and herders whose job was to wrangle the stock the Spanish brought over and settled with. The role was not limited by any race or ethnicity- anyone who got good at riding a horse could be a vaqueros. When you think of the cool lone ranger figure, you have them to thank. The word rodeo is actually derived from the Spanish verb “rodear” which means to round up, just one of the many examples of the American style of going “oh that’s a cool thing. That’s ours now.”
Those first rodeos did not charge admission. They were just spectacle and testosterone. Pretty much exactly like a backyard wrestling show put on by a bunch of white boys in the midwest. However, once these events became bigger and more fleshed out, they kind of had to start charging money. You want more and better cowboys to take part, you start offering cash prizes for events. You want better quality horses and bulls for those cowboys to ride, you gotta start payin’ handlers to loan you their stock. You want people to clean up and handle equipment, you gotta start giving wages to folks. And, in order to get the money to do all those things, you’re gonna have to start charging for those tickets. The escalation here is unsurprising- Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Shows had proved there was a great market for people sitting in an arena and watching people ride animals and do tricks. It doesn’t take much to see a particularly ambitious and wealthier cowboy see that success and go “well shit, I can do that”.
Once your spectating crowd becomes a paying audience, there’s more of a responsibility to keep the spectators entertained. People will want their money back or spread bad word of mouth if they have to wait too long for their promised extravaganza. Enter stage left: the clown. I mean, okay, there wasn’t exactly a stage. It was mostly just. Dirt. And they weren’t out there hiring fully fledged circus clowns to join in the rodeo. Not in the early days at least. No, the rodeo clown has a deceptively utilitarian inception. Sometimes there was a delay in the events, whether from an injured cowboy or a runaway animal that needed corralling. And that's when some cowboys would either get poked into or of their own volition start amusing the audience for placation purposes. And from there, the humble origins of the distractor, it grew into a profession. The first rodeo clowns were undocumented, just some funnier than average cowpokes who didn't mind doing some routines or slinging bits for distractions sake. But as the rodeo grew, so did the fools.
Send in the Clowns
Rodeo first started growing alongside the circus in America. One of the biggest golden ages of the circus was in the 1910s and 20s, which is when rodeos started really gaining traction as a worthwhile event as well. As the circus grew, rodeos would start adopting similar entertainment tactics. Namely, clowns. Clowns were really popular. By this time the figure of the clown had steeped itself into popular culture for long enough that they were pretty ubiquitous, and it was almost expected that if you were gonna put on some type of entertainment show, there’d be a clown in there. So, those funnier than average cowpokes i mentioned earlier, started putting on paint. They started wearing big baggy clothes. They started doing full on routines during breaks and intermissions. They started really getting silly with it.
But all I’ve done so far is tell you about the clown part of the rodeo clown. What makes the rodeo part? Well, the rodeo clown has a truly invaluable role in the rodeo, one entirely unique to its profession. It’s not just that other clowns don’t do what they do. It’s that fucking no one anywhere ever does what they do.
The Role of the Clowns
To put it simply: The rodeo clown is the safety net of the rodeo. The job of this clown isn’t just to entertain. No, the real job is to keep the cowboys alive. When you see a cowboy on the back of a bucking bull get thrown to the ground and that bull, 2,000 pounds of pissed off, starts running to gore that man, the only thing that will save him is someone running interference. And that interference is the clown.
In the early days, the title of “protector” for the rodeo clown was sometimes part of the job description, but not always. Rodeo events didn’t always involve dangerous acts like holding on to a bucking animal back then, so participants weren’t in as much danger of having their skull crushed in by a stray hoof. It wasn’t until the introduction of the Brahman bull that “protector” was a non-negotiable clown trait in the ring.
The Brahman bulls were introduced to American rodeos in the early 20th century, a move popularly attributed to rodeo contestant and stock contractor Verne Elliot. Hyperbolically referred to as “the great employer of rodeos”, because without the Brahman Bulls the clowns wouldn’t be nearly as important. They are the “bucking” bull you think of when you think of a rodeo. Before them most rodeo activity was just open range riding. But these bulls were different. They were mean, and they were smart. They had a looser hide that was harder to hold on to. And they would get really pissed off when a whole ass guy started riding them, and they would instinctively buck to get that whole ass guy off. Which is where the famous 8 second contest comes from. That’s also where the danger comes from- where as most other bulls would run off after disposing of a cowboy, these bulls, once they’ve thrown the rider, would charge that poor motherfucker they just unceremoniously flung from their backs.
Why would a rodeo owner introduce these animals literally bred to be aggressive and dangerous? I mean I don't think I have to tell you the main motivator is spectacle. Not knowing if you’re going to watch a man get gored to death really helps sell that price of admission. But, as a rodeo owner, if you do employ animals that gore your cowboys to death, cowboys are not going to want to perform in your rodeo. So in order to please both parties, you bring in a defensive support class.
The main purpose of the rodeo clown was to divert attention. You cannot physically stop a bull and you’d be dead if you tried. But you can whistle at it, draw it away, and buy the poor cowboy who just got smashed against the gate the precious few seconds he needs to get hoisted up by his other cowboys to safety. As rodeos grew and clowns refined their strategies, clowns would often work in pairs if not triples or quartets to ensure no one was out there alone.
Different clowns developed different techniques in dealing with these bulls but the main tips stay the same no matter who you talk to in the profession. You want to defy all logic and reason and stay close to the bull. You want to move them in tight circles so they can’t gain the momentum that would be needed to trample your guts into pudding. Basically think of it like a Dark Souls boss. If you are getting run down, you need to make sure you lead the creature to the middle of the arena. There, you will have room to maneuver, and he won’t be able to pin you to a wall, and the cowboy he just disposed of will be safe. Then one of your clownpatriots can return the favor and lure him away from you, and you can scamper away unharmed as well.
The Wikipedia page in question. Absolute legend.
Like a pro wrestler, a rodeo clown also covers his concern for the crowd. If a cowboy takes a spill, sure the clown may pick him up and gesture like he's making fun, but under that gesticulation he's asking the cowboy if they're okay. A good clown also has to learn the behaviors of the bulls. Each can be different. In rodeos, the stock gets reputations just as the competitors do. They’re essentially viewed as their own class of athlete. Bulls earn their own points, just like the human rodeo participants do, which earns the handler's reputation. In fact, stock is inducted into the ProRodeo hall of fame just like cowboys are. The bulls’ spot as peer and athlete in rodeo really cannot be understated: While researching for this episode I came across a wikipedia page for a bull named “Bodacious” that had over 6,000 words describing his career history in the sport and eventual induction to the rodeo hall of fame in 2017. 6,000 words! That is the length of my average episode script!! Not only that, but there are more bulls with fleshed out Wikipedia pages than rodeo clowns. Once again, society deems the rodeo clown unimportant. For shame, society. For shame.
You know, now that I think about it, it’s actually kinda tragic that there are 6,000 words written about the legacy of a bull who will never be able to read them. It's like if your eulogy was performed by ants.
Anyways, more on the bulls- A cowpoke can get higher points from riding a harder-bucking bull. Bulls are smart creatures and develop idiosyncrasies like humans do, and will often buck and charge and maneuver with some form of consistency, so things can be learned and passed around. Bullfighters can even scout out their bulls in performances beforehand. One easy trick is to note the length of the horns- if they have long horns, that actually means the bull isn't too wild or dangerous. If he was, they'd either be cut or shortened. This would be because those horns had tasted blood at some point, or as a preventative measure to keep them from doing so.
So, now that we’ve established the need for the protector clown, let’s go back to the different classes of rodeo clown. One interesting thing I'd like to note: even though I'm about to taxonomize the different subspecies of rodeo clown, for most of their early existence rodeo clowns also saw themselves as cowboys. Which I personally think is accurate. They knew how to handle a cow as well as the motherfuckers riding them, so why not allow them that title?
Entertainer v Bullfighter v Barrelman
Anyways, let’s get to the different titles and their respective roles.The clown as an entertainer is obvious. They come in with a broken down jalopy, a trained mule, and they do a bunch of funny pantomime bits for the audience during intermissions. They do some funny sassy banter with the rodeo announcer. They use some geese as chariot drivers and ride across the arena. Easy peasey. But what about bullfighters and barrelmen? …Well actually those are pretty obvious too. The names ain’t deceiving here. One great thing about the American south is they name things like they are.
Jasbo Fulkerson and his beloved mule, Elko.
The bullfighter is the guy you see tapping the bull on the head and then running him around in circles. He’s out there, staring down one ton of death, and escaping. He’s getting the bull’s attention to pull him away from a downed cowpoke. The barrelman however is a bit different. The barrel you see rodeo clowns in is specially designed and reinforced with steel to withstand a gore attempt. Renowned rodeo clown Jasbo Fulkerson was the first known barrel-user. Born from necessity. He was a short king, and as such had small legs and couldn't outrun a bull to the wall of the arena for safety like others could, so he needed a safety point in the middle. Hence the barrel. Obviously a normal wooden barrel would shatter upon impact. So he reinforced it with some tires around it as shock absorbers. Over time other clowns adopted and improved upon the barrel with hand grips welded to the interior. The “walking barrel” for example is a barrel without a bottom whose purpose is twofold. First purpose is whoever is inside can easily lift the barrel and walk to a new location while still inside it. The barrelman can walk to more strategic areas in the ring as needed rather than having to roll or haul it. The second purpose was inspired by Jasbo Fulkerson getting stuck in a barrel with a bull who had just rammed its head into it. He was literally jammed into a barrel with the head of a bull getting shaken around by it, like a goddamn Looney Toon. Even though he survived only partially gored, he naturally thought a way to escape would be pretty good in a situation like that. So an open ended barrel was thus created.
Because of the dangerous nature of the bulls, rodeo clowns were trusted. They had to be. From Fearless Funnymen- "Often the clown's skill makes the difference in whether the cowboy goes to the next rodeo, hospital, or a morgue.” But they were also underpaid and underappreciated. Ain’t that just the way.
The struggle of the rodeo clown to receive its due recognition (and compensation) has been a struggle almost from the get. In 1929 the Rodeo Association of America was formed. It established point systems (one dollar earned for each point won), standardized events, rules, regulations, judging, refereeing, timing, arena conditions. Basically it was the first big concerted push by a large number of rodeo participants and owners to standardize the practice. This was a great move! However, as underlined in a sentence I find hilarious and endearing, the association quote: “had no legal right to speak for the cowboy”. No idea what that means, but hell yeah.
So more rodeos across the country started adapting the rules and regulations set by the Rode Association of America. Things were going pretty good until 1936 at the Boston Garden Show. Here a legendary cowboy strike took place. They were striking for what most people strike for- lack of pay and consistent, fair employment. And also the feeling that some rules were detrimental to the contestants. Everyone in the rodeo set to perform at that Boston Garden show got together and signed a petition. Initially the organizer of the event tried to bring in scab cowboys, but when those scabs learned of the strike they held the line and did not compete. From a paper at the time describing the pathetic event the organizer scraped together to make the show go on, quote: "61 top names in rodeo watched and booed from the stands the first night as stable grooms, chute men, ex-jockeys, and wild west show performers tried to ride saddle broncs, while the band played "Empty Saddles of the Old Corral".
After this historic strike, a new organization was formed. The newly formed organization was called the "Cowboy's Turtle Association''. That name was chosen because, while they were slow to organize, when required they were unafraid to stick out their necks to get what they wanted, like turtles might do. This was another great step forward, as it included memberships for everyone as far as I can tell regardless of race or gender- Among the organizers was a woman, a four-time national bronc champion. There were no membership restrictions, and people from all walks were encouraged to join in, including announcers, clowns, trick riders, contract performers, cowgirl bronc riders, and trick ropers, among many many others. There’s lots of different titles to have in a rodeo.
In 1941 another organization popped up. The Cowboy's Amateur Association of America was started as well, a sign of increasing solidarity and regularity in performers. What defines an amateur? Quote, "An Amateur is defined as a person who has never belonged to any rodeo association, and upon seeking membership has never won more than five hundred dollars in any one year at rodeos. When, at the end of the year, any one member has won this sum of money, he becomes a professional". So I guess technically I could count as a Rodeo Amatuer. And you, if you haven’t won $500 at a rodeo. So you can put that on your LinkedIn.
Some cowpokes on strike during the Boston Garden Show.
In 1945, the Cowboy's Turtle Association changed its name to Rodeo Cowboy Association. The reason for the change, per the Rodeo Historical Society's publication The Ketch Pen: “…the name Turtle has no bearing or no connection with the West, is confusing to the public, and is entirely out of place for the purpose of the organization". Which is true but also a little harsh. I personally think it was cute.
Several other rodeo associations would pop up and fail in the ensuing decades. The biggest and final change amongst various orgs adopting one another and folding in on themselves was when the Rodeo Cowboy Association officially put on its big boy chaps and became the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association in 1975. The PRCA is the largest rodeo organization in the world and continues to operate to this day.
All this is great, but unfortunately the unique liminal position of the rodeo clown did not allow for reassurances of regular income and rights. The clowns were welcome to be sure, but the job of the clown was one that didn't win purses or have amateur or pro status. They were essentially contract workers, so they were kind of left on their own relative to the cowboys. There were no union or pay scales to determine if they were being fairly compensated. A rodeo clown had to fight for his own, had to self-advocate for a fair wage even as representation was being earned for his coworkers. Over the years at the PRCA a rodeo clown or two may find themselves sitting at the board to represent contract workers, but not much more than that. As time went on, there would be awards given specifically to clowns, though by that time the term “bullfighter” started being used more than clown. There are also plenty of clowns given recognition in various rodeo halls of fame. And, Since 2004, the PRCA has designated the Bullfighter of the Year award to its best bull rider protection athlete by a way of votes within the organization. This is a pretty huge honor- if you’re given this title, it’s likely because you saved the most asses out in the ring.
Notable Clowns
In order to combat the total loss of any memory or history of rodeo clowns, I'd like to shine the spotlight on a few of the greats.Now, you’ve heard the name Jasbo Fulkerson already, but I’m not done talking about him yet. This short king was a true revolutionary of the Rodeo. Born in 1904 at Midlothian, Texas, Jasbo Fulkerson grew up around the Fort Worth Stock Yards and commenced riding steers and cows as a teenager. He entered his first professional rodeo in 1923, riding bulls and bareback broncs, and went on to contend at most of the larger venues around the United States. He rode at the first London rodeo in 1924 and won the bull riding title at Fort Worth in 1926. This was a huge honor, he had achieved status of one of the best bull riders of his time, and he could have just kept doing that if he wanted. But he decided to switch from fighting to riding not too long after his Fort Worth award. It started when of a friend of his was about to put down his mule- the poor creature had contracted an infection from a kick from a horse in transit to another rodeo. Jasbo stopped his friend and asked him to let him take care of it. Jasbo called a vet, and helped nurse him back to health over the next few months, doting upon Elko and forming a bond that would last 2 decades, until their last show in 1948. Over those 2 decades he performed yearly at the Madison Square Garden Rodeo. After spending more than half his life in the rodeo circuit, Jasbo unfortunately met an early end. His death in 1949 was announced by a headline on the NYT that read: ' JASBO,' RODEO CLOWN, DIES IN TRUCK MISHAP.” He was inducted into the National Rodeo Hall of Fame in 2001.
Skipper Voss was one of the early clowns who really started bringing a high level of athleticism to his work. Not to say that the other clowns didn’t- you need a high base level of athleticism to survive getting chased by a bull in any way- but Voss was a whole other level. His speed and agility made him both a crowd favorite and cowboy favorite starting in the early 1970s. He was also the start of the movement away from frivolity- though he did the occasional routine and definitely sported the look, makeup and all, Skipper wasn’t exactly known as a Funny Guy. Instead he channeled all he had into the physical aspect of the work. He didn’t even drink full fifths of Wild Turkey before he performed, if you can believe it! And boy did it pay off. He very quickly gained notoriety for his physical skill once he got in the ring in 1972. He gained the immense respect of his clown and cowboy peers alike. His “style” of bullfighting was a template for those following to go harder and be better than ever before from a physicality perspective. He brought precision and calculation into the equation. Modern day bullfighters still cite him as inspiration. Even modern day bullfighter associations, like BFO (BullFighters Only) have a rookie award named after him. Another admirable trait of his was his lack of hesitance over speaking his mind about the treatment of the clowns in the industry. He would frequently let it be known to any people or publications who asked that clowns get second-class treatment, even though they are a pillar of the industry and pay dues just as others do.
Now, I was originally going to mention here if Skipper was still alive and what he’s been up to, or when he had passed away if he had died. But I literally cannot tell if he is alive or dead. Literally one of the most influential rodeo clowns that has ever lived. And I can’t find anything telling me if he’s even still alive!! The best I got was a forum post on horse.sports.narkive in the year 2006 asking “hey is Skipper dead”? To which there are 3 replies:
Donny_reeves69 says: No Skipper is alive and well! He even clowned a rodeo in Dayton, Texas a couple of years ago!
An unnamed user replies: He actually did die. I heard he was shot by a rival Rodeo Clown named Sprinkles.
Finally, user Canes and Bruins 09-10 adds: who??????
I know I’ve beaten this dead horse already but man. I’m not even asking for meticulous biographies for every rodeo clown (as much as I’d love that). I just would like to have access to the basic histories of these dudes. Including facts such as “ARE THEY EVEN ALIVE RIGHT NOW OR NOT?”
Anyways, let’s move on to a rodeo clown who I can verify is still alive and is dope as fuck. Leon Coffee is an absolute legend. He started out early in the rodeo life as many do, growing up on a ranch and doing junior rodeo stunts in bull riding, bareback riding, steer wrestling, and calf roping.
After encouragement from friend and bullfighter Michael Moore (no relation), Coffee began fighting bulls instead of riding them in high school. One fateful night the bullfighter who was supposed to be in the rodeo at their high school for whatever reason had ducked out, and they needed someone to fill in. Quick side note, this is actually the way like 50% of rodeo clowns get their start. Just volunteering because someone else dropped out. So Coffee stepped in, and was hooked immediately.
One of the few Black rodeo clowns, he was an early standout when he started in 1975 for his disco routines. His signature act of dancing in front of an angry bull earned him the nicknames “Disco Bullfighter” and “Boogie Man.” There is video of this by the way, and I will absolutely be linking it on my website. It is truly a sight to see.
Coffee even started a sort of rodeo clown college, where he’d teach up and coming bullfighters the ropes. And though he was often called a bullfighter rather than a clown, Coffee proudly wore the clown title. From a 2002 article about studying rodeo clowning under Coffee by John Spong: While the cowboys insisted on calling him a bullfighter—as if the word “clown” was somehow demeaning—Leon was sure enough of what he was doing that he didn’t need to split that hair. “Do I wear makeup, and am I funny?” he asked. “Well, I guess you’d have to call that a clown. And am I one badass, bullfighting sumbuck? Why don’t you tell me.” The paraphrased piece of Scripture that he suggested I turn to when things looked bleak with the bulls summed him up to the letter: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for I am the baddest cat in the valley.”
Even though he can no longer be a bullfighter due to several decades of getting the shit beat out of him by bulls, he does still perform in rodeos in his home state of Texas as an entertainer and barrelman.
X-Games-ification
Alas, not all that is silly shall last. The function and appearance of the rodeo clown over the last few decades dwindled to the point where there are very few bullfighters who call themselves clowns. Or are even funny for that matter.The clown in general faced a bit of a downturn in the 90s, for various horror-related reasons as well as just regular changing of the times. The real nail in the coffin for the clown was when rodeo clown icon Rob Smets in 2001 ditched his paint and baggy britches for just some…. Baggy denim jeans and jersey with some garish sponsor logos on them. The downgrade of the millennium. Once he abandoned the uniform others did too. Nowadays if you see a full on clown at the local rodeo, he’s likely just going to be doing a funny bit during an intermission, not face down a bull.
Today the art of bullfighting has been X-games-ified. Starting with the sheer athletic prowess introduced by Skipper Voss in the 1970s, athleticism is now more important than ever. Especially as the speed and athletic ability of the stock continues to increase. In fact, there’s now competitions specifically revolving around just that- often under the title of “freestyle bullfighting”. There, a bullfighter and a bull are in an arena alone for 60 seconds, the fighter’s performance judged by a panel. The rodeo clowns of the 1960s would be gobsmacked by the kind of athletic showcases these events are. By shedding the need to be humorous, the modern day bullfighter can put all their energy into refining their athletic skill. Points in these freestyle bullfighting events are earned by technique and wow-factor. Some even practice acrobatics in the ring- one of the more common big dick tricks you see a bullfighter do nowadays is, when a bull runs at them and puts its head down to charge, they jump up and leap over the bull entirely. Sound familiar?
Yeah, that’s right. I brought it back to Minoans. Y’all ain’t free.
One of the best bullfighters in the business right now is Dusty Tuckeness. Despite what the jaunty name may lead you to believe he is not a clown. In fact, after watching even just a brief feature on the man, I can confidently say he is one of the least funny men I've ever seen. No shade to the dude, I also saw him do some truly buckwild maneuvers in the ring, and his reputation as the best really does seem to be a well earned one. It’s just a bit disappointing to someone like me to learn about the rodeo clowns of yore, come to respect them in a way I'd never thought I would, and then find out they’re basically an endangered species. However, Dusty and other modern day bullfighters do pay homage to their silly ancestors. Most will wear baggy clothing with varying degrees of color and garishness. But most importantly: plenty don unique face paint. Always minimal, usually no more than a few black and white lines arranged around the cheeks and sides of the face. But it’s still there. They don’t call themselves clowns anymore. And, they’re not. They’re protectors. But it really is sweet to see them carry the silly torch just a little longer.
