Spain isn’t weird in many ways, but it is in some.
Like this odd, inexplicable and downright dangerous fascination people there have with bulls. Is it just me, or does it sound rather unappealing to gather with thousands of other people and watch a big male bovine animal get lanced with a bunch of spears and then have its head run through with a sword?
Or worse yet, doesn’t it sound highly unenjoyable to watch a bull “gore” a man, basically popping his chest open with a horn (as happened to a matador last week in a so-called “bullfight” in a small town in eastern Spain)?
Then, of course, there’s the ever-popular “running of the bulls,” which happens each summer in many cities and towns across Spain, most notably Pamplona, a city of about 200,000 in the northern part of the country that’s the capital of the province of Navarre. During these events, bulls are forced to run down the street – usually between tall, old buildings about four inches from the roadway – while manly men run alongside and in front of them.
If that sounds like a recipe for bloody trouble, check out this sentence from a Reuters story published a last week about the subject: “Many of Spain’s towns hold summer festivals involving bulls, and several people die each year.”
Wait a minute, what? Several people dying from the activity annually – I’m not sure I’m on board with that.
However, the practice always does seem to draw major attention to Pamplona, and surely results in a more than a little tourist cash being tossed about in town. With that in mind, I have a suggestion for similarly putting Houston (Mo.) on the map: The annual Running of the Cougars.
Now before you go and say, “well, that’s just crazy,” keep in mind, that’s the point. As our friends across the pond have successfully demonstrated, this isn’t about sensibility and rationality, it’s about macho pride and moolah.
Of course, the event would have to be staged on an east-west facing street in town, because as we all know from the Missouri Department of Conservation, the only mountain lions seen in the Show-Me State are males traveling from states to the west to states to the east in search of territory or mates (nope, not a single one stops here, they never walk in the direction of the setting sun, and Missouri is entirely off limits to female cougars).
I think Hawthorne Street would be perfect, with the course spanning the whole way from Airport road to First Street.
Anyway, I can see it now. Houston (the little one, not the big one) and the Running of the Cougs becomes widely known, and the event is annually watched by a huge TV audience.
Cue announcers.
“Goooood afternoon, folks, and welcome back to the beautiful Ozarks where the eleventy-seventh annual Running of the Cougars is about to begin. I’m Matt Winterall, and I’m here with my colleague, Craig Gumball, and we’re expecting the usual riveting action in today’s run.”
“That’s right, Matt, I think we’re in for a real donnybrook as the participants – both feline and out-of-their-minds – claw their way along the course.”
“And here they go. Oh, man, Craig, that’s gotta hurt!”
“No doubt, Matt, those are some pretty sharp claws and I’d say that animal is pretty long in the tooth – and I don’t mean old!”
“Wow, look at those guys go, Craig! Those big cats are working hard to keep up this year. Is that a dog in there?”
“It is, Matt. It’s probably taking offense to the kitties running in front of his yard. Oohhh wow, that’s not good. I don’t think Rover will be taking offense to anything again.”
“You know, Craig, considering the size of those paws out there, I’m surprised more guys don’t get knocked down each year. Like that.”
“Yep, he looks to be about 6-2, 250, but he took a swipe to the thigh and went down like a rock. Let’s just hope he gets up, Matt.”
“They’re about half way along the course, and the cats seem determined to head east, Craig.”
“As they would, Matt, because that’s the only way they head in the Ozarks – or any of Missouri, right? I must say I find it strange that they don’t find anything worthwhile enough about this area to just stay put. Seems like there’s plenty of space and plenty of food sources.”
“I feel the same way, Craig. Ouch, that can’t feel good. I think that guy needs a new set of britches. And maybe a new knee.”
“They’re about to finish up, Matt, and as always, there’s no winner but plenty of losers – all with two legs. At least, when they started.”
“I already can’t wait for next year, Craig. Cougars and runners – how can you beat that for wholesome family entertainment? That’s all from Houston, Mo. So long everyone, and don’t let the big cats get your goat.”
Watch out Pamplona. Here comes Houston (the little one).
Doug Davison is a writer, photographer and newsroom assistant for the Houston Herald. Email: ddavison@houstonherald.com.