Mesquite bull event likely to be steered elsewhere

Jeffrey Libby

Thursday, July 20, 2000 | 11:07 a.m.

Outside the Church of San Lorenzo in Pamplona the locals may be singing sad choruses of Pobre de Mi (Poor Me), saying a reluctant good-bye to another eight days of the running of the bulls, but in Mesquite, border town of four casinos, the marketing executives don't have the luxury of any such bittersweet lament.

The bulls of the West have not yet run this year. And it looks as though they won't, at least not in Mesquite.

Unlike in Pamplona, where last Friday the festival of San Fermin ended with 206 runners hospitalized, nine of those gored, and one reported death from alcohol poisoning, in Mesquite, the only outcry has been over chips, won or lost.

Most likely, with temperatures daily surpassing 100 degrees, entertainment will remain in doors and the only reported injuries will be those done to the wallet.

In fact, after the Mesquite Resort Association kicked in $100,000 over the past two years sponsoring the first ever running of the bulls held in the United States -- to mixed results -- it appears that Scottsdale, Ariz., promoter Phil Immordino has decided to take his bulls elsewhere.

According to Kirk Lee, president of the Mesquite Chamber of Commerce and a member of the resort association, Immordino had significant financial help from local casinos and "still owes us money today."

And though Mesquite officials looked into holding their own running of the bulls, they found their hands are tied. According to Lee, an attorney for Immordino has registered every possible name the chamber could use to advertise such an event.

"It was a mutual decision," said Immordino, when reached midweek in Granada Hills, Calif. "The event, number one, on their end was too expensive. And for me, the event can't grow in a small place like Mesquite."

Immordino says he has plans to hold the third running of the bulls this fall, possibly in October when the weather cools off, in either Phoenix, Scottsdale, Ariz., or San Diego, Calif.

Those cities have larger populations to draw from, according to Immordino, and he says the bottom line is giving people the same experience they have in Pamplona.

For Devin Loving, 36, a Las Vegan slot machine technician and the founder and president of the Bullbait Racing Society, (the group's motto is 'Trample the weak, hurdle the dead, run with the bulls'), Immordino's event has delivered that experience two years running.

"It's a dumb, stupid, macho thing to do, but not too stupid and macho for me," Loving said. "(Running with the bulls) is not something you're supposed to do, and this is your chance to do it."

Since surviving to tell about the first year's running, Loving has gathered seven converts around him, including a deputy sheriff, a tax consultant, a fifth-grade school teacher and a graphics designer who retired at 35.

One boasts a mid-life crisis as reason for paying the $50 entry fee to risk life and limb, another wants to pick up girls and a third simply wants bragging rights.

Last year the group ran equipped with barbecue equipment and an official photographer. They crossed the finish line unscathed and gnawing on beef ribs, claiming to have killed and roasted a bull enroute.

"It's bravado. A lot of silliness goes on. Actually it's almost like the Doo-dah Parade in L.A. The businessman's brigade and the lawnmower brigade," said Loving. "It's an extreme. America is always extreme. And the thrill. When you're standing on the track waiting for the bulls, then you start wondering a little bit, if you're sane." Two years ago, Mesquite, a town of 12,000, seemed to Immordino like the ideal birthplace for an Americanized offspring of Spain's running of the bulls, a tradition dating back to 1385.

Just 80 miles northeast of Las Vegas, a major city, and with local businesses eager to provide needed funds in hopes of putting themselves on the tourist map, Mesquite promised the fulfillment of a project Immordino originally dreamed up for a client but then found himself stuck with.

In July 1998, the inaugural event attracted approximately 700 runners and another 7,000 people packed to capacity a small ranch across the stateline from Mesquite. Town casinos backed the event, no-one was injured and Immordino found himself thrown in jail for a permit violation - all of which served to sweeten the worldwide coverage the event received, even if it didn't turn a profit.

But in its second year, held off a dusty freeway in Mesquite, with an expanded program and three rodeo bulls added to the ranks of the more docile bulls, the running of the bulls attracted only nominally more runners and fewer spectators.

Immordino says it was too hot in 1999, with humidity running high and temperatures pushing 115 degrees. It didn't help that heavy rains shut down airports and highways in Las Vegas and created the impression, according to Immordino, that the West was underwater. Others say that new charges for spectators also dulled some of the fun.

Still, despite outstanding bills and an as-yet undetermined site for this year's running of the bulls, Immordino is confident the event will take hold in this country and eventually make money.

"Ideally, we'll have a thousand, 2,000, 3,000 runners and 40 to 50 thousand attendees," Immordino said. "In Spain, a half-million people go, and they have 7,000 runners. But it took them 400 years. If we could be there in four or five years, that would be great."

But first Immordino, a fundraiser and seminar leader for the Professional Golfer's Association, will have to find a new home and willing sponsors for his high-risk event. As for the numerous phone calls Immordino says he receives every week from people like Loving -- who have found an answer in running with the bulls, but can't afford the plane ticket to Pamplona - they'll have to sing Pobre de Mi for the time being. Just like in Spain.