By Connor McDowell
Local Journalism Initiative Reporter
Brandon Sun
AUSTIN — Scott Byrne slaps a barrel. He points inside, where cushions swell from every direction. The rodeo clown, who used to be a bullfighter, says it’s an escape mechanism.
Reading “wrangler” on the outside, the barrel exists to be smashed by raging bulls. When the animal bucks off a rider during a rodeo, it may turn around and run for a second shot. That’s where the barrel comes in and gives the riders an escape.
“They might run behind it,” Byrne told the Sun.
The only problem is that the bull shifts its attention to the barrel — and bullfighters are waiting inside, hoping the cushions work well enough.
The 53-year-old is the rodeo clown for the Manitoba Threshermen’s Reunion and Stampede in Austin this year. He is one of thousands who return to the event every year and keep the culture alive and kicking.
When asked why he makes the effort, like driving out, bringing his equipment and putting on an act for the crowd, Byrne answered that it covers a few bases. After a long career at rodeos, the most important thing is he has some giving back to do.
“It’s all about friends,” Byrne said. “Being able to travel and make some money. And pass it down the line.”
The Brandon-area resident spent 23 years as a bullfighter. The career invited “a lot of” broken ribs, and some hooves on his face, and when asked how often he’d been to the hospital, he responded, “Some years you don’t go at all.”
Now he doesn’t want to put his body on the line like he used to. He pivoted into clowning as a way to stay involved.
The new role for him is keeping things light, and entertaining the crowd during a lull in the show, he said. And while it might not be life or death, it’s no less important to the rodeo veteran.
“I still take it seriously, ’cause people come here to have fun,” said Byrne. “We want them to have fun and get their money’s worth.”
In his new task, he said there’s some similarities to bullfighting. Standing in the dirt 20 minutes before his first act on Thursday evening, he said he still gets the same reaction as when he was staring at a raging bull.
“The rush is there the same,” said Byrne. “Just before I get into the arena, my heart gets beating. Same as fighting bulls … It’s the same kind of natural high, I would say.”
When asked about the differences, he said clowning is more a mental act — being aware when there’s a lull, and finding something to amuse the crowd. A mental challenge.
While everyone around him has buttoned, long-sleeve shirts tucked into jeans, Byrne’s face is covered in white makeup, with blue lines straight up and sideways from his eyes. He’s wearing a red and white striped shirt and comfortable shorts. A smile.
While he transitions out of bullfighting, he trains the next generation to keep rodeos safe. Two men that acted as the rodeo’s bullfighters this year were graduates of an annual three-day class that Byrne teaches — and they were put to the test on opening night.
A few injuries piled up at the tail end of the rodeo, as multiple ambulances responded when riders were injured by bulls. Elliot Sims, the Manitoba Agricultural Museum’s executive director, said the contestants left the grounds in stable condition.
Sims noted that rodeo is a high-risk competition and he thanked the paramedics and bullfighters that helped de-escalate the danger.
“We’re really appreciative of all the efforts that the bullfighters made last night,” he said Friday. “Incidents like this are exactly why rodeos have bullfighters. They’re there to help keep the contestants safe and make sure that the animals are safe by reducing that conflict after a ride is done.”
The opening night of the rodeo saw above-average attendance, with about 1,700 people, Sims said. The event raises funds for the Manitoba Agricultural Museum, contributing to the preservation of culture and history in this part of the province.
“It’s really important for us and agriculture in general.”
Sims said it all comes down to the people. More than 600 volunteers are involved running the daily events from Thursday to Sunday. With fewer people farming, he said, it’s more important now that people continue to contribute to the culture and pass skills on.
