Bovine Kampf

To get things mooooving along, officials known as rabatteurs grab combatants by their collars and butt their heads together. Then this happens. The cows are Eringers, a breed known for its aggressive tendencies.

Aproz lies in a remote mountain region in southwest Switzerland. It’s a place where the local population feverishly anticipates heavyweight bouts between contestants with names like Dynamite and Tyson. These 1,400-pound gladiators aren’t very dangerous under normal conditions. But once a week during the spring the town’s heartiest cows (as in udders, not balls) are marked up with white numbers, led to a dusty circle surrounded by bleachers, and literally lock horns in one of the slowest forms of combat we have ever witnessed. It’s like watching two ancient bag ladies with all-titanium joints fight over a grocery cart full of aluminum cans underwater (i.e., very funny but also kind of sad). Outside the ring, vast quantities of dry white wine are chugged by fans, who loyally attend every Sunday until the national finals in the fall. Only then can the citizens of Aproz sleep soundly, knowing that a new queen of the herd has been crowned.

The cows’ workout routine consists of eating grass and pooping. Spectators trickle in throughout the day, with attendance reaching as high as 14,000. Unlike bullfights, injuries are rare in cow combat. Sometimes a horn pierces the skin of an opposing cow, but this usually results in only a superficial wound. The winning cow, Manhattan, with her loving breeder and his family. As prize money he gets a cowbell and a leather strap worth 500 Swiss francs, not to mention all the warrior milk he can drink.