I recently went down the rabbit hole on the history of American bullfighters in Mexico, thanks in large part to this incredibly niche book. One of the characters who jumped out at me was New York native Diego O’Bolger (née James Bolger), who was affectionately profiled in Tucson Weekly some 19 years ago. The story really drives home the physical grind of O’Bolger’s chosen profession, as well as the meager financial rewards on offer for the typical matador. But what stuck out to me the most was this observation about O’Bolger’s pre-fight ritual—a reminder that there’s a subtle ghoulish streak to so many exercises of caution:
After the bulls were assigned, we headed to Elvira’s for chiles rellenos. O’Bolger went back to the hotel. Traditionally, bullfighters don’t eat before a fight. If the worst happens and surgery is required, the doctors don’t want to have to go digging through a lot of tamales and beans to make repairs.
If this is the correct Diego O’Bolger, then I certainly hope he’s enjoying the occasional lunch these days.
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