Cock Fight

[Martin Hash]

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I’ve been in chicken-fights; all us little kids have ridden on the shoulders of the big kids and pulled the opposing chicken-fighter off, but I’ve never been to a real one, with chickens I mean so, of course, I jumped on the chance when my son, Haven, asked if I wanted to go see a cock fight. He’d never been before either, and he lived in Peru.

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Bull and cock fights are viewed with disdain in Peru almost as much as in the U.S. It's not like there are signs or addresses, so we had to ask around where to go. We were directed to surreptitiously walk through two back-to-back chicken restaurants, featuring open-shirted lounge singers. On the walls were pictures and paintings of famous cock fighters, the chickens I mean, and eventually, through an obscured opening, into a chicken-fighting ring. It was a circular pit with padded seats down close and just the cement to sit on going up. The place was mostly empty except for an old women selling Chiclets for 1 sol, the Peruvian currency. She said no one was there tonight because only one fight was scheduled. While waiting we looked at big posters advertising 15 and 20 thousand soles prizes for cock fighting tournaments, with flags indicating the chicken’s citizenship. I picked out the U.S. flag from among them.

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Cock Fight video
After a few minutes, uniformed chicken fighting referees stepped into the ring carrying cocks. They threw them at each other a few times to get them pissed off then strapped on regulation spurs, and checked the chickens for illegal weapons, whatever those would be. I wanted to pick a winner, this was a betting operation after all, but the chickens looked the same so I didn’t know who to root for. Thank god, the fight didn’t last very long before one of the chickens flipped over dead, shuddering, its neck cut. My son, Haven, wondered how they could have tournaments, certainly double-elimination was not an option. We left and found a restaurant that served cow’s heart, and a Peruvian band playing old American pop songs, like, “Hey Yude.” We drank Pisco sours and ruminated about the event: I’m thinking that’s my last chicken-fight of any kind.

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[C-Mag]

Glad you got the experience. It's not something a lot of Americans get to see or would even go to.

You had the same experience I had. The fights are all about getting position, and then one good strike and it's over. It's like boxing, where the fights all end with one big knockout blow.