As a bull rider positions himself in the chute, atop a snarling, red-eyed, 1600-plus-pound monster, there's one man standing in the dirt waiting to face the beast with him.

The bullfighter positions himself in the arena, right in the thick of the awaiting chaos, poised to assist. The chute opens and the angry, snot-flinging mass of muscle kicks its way free from his steel cage and attempts to send his rider home with some broken bones and a headache - or much worse.

The brief moment the rider is in control can slip away in a fraction of a second, and that's what the bullfighter is waiting for. They monitor the rider's control of the bull and when the rider falters, gets bucked or falls off under their own power, that's when the bullfighter steps in.

As the rider hits the compact dirt below, the fighter steps in between him and the bull - thrusting himself into danger. The bullfighter risks his life to save the rider's. That's the reality of the sport.

And when the fighter wedges themselves between man and beast, there is an even harsher reality.

"You can't out-run them."