CLOWNING ACHIEVEMENT

VENTURA — Believe it or not, working in a barrel can be fun. Just ask Martin Kiff.

The veteran rodeo clown only works weekends. He gets to make people laugh. For thrills, he distracts bucking bulls away from fallen riders.

“I hope I can do this for another 30 or 40 years; I love it,” said Kiff, 34, whose three-day gig at the Ventura County Fair ends today with shows at 2 and 7 p.m. “I almost can’t believe they pay me.”

If there was any question about Kiff’s devotion to professional rodeo, he answered it in 1984. During a performance in Salina, Kan., Kiff was kicked in the head by a bull and was unconscious in a hospital for 10 days.

“I was loopy for about 10 months,” he said. “I still don’t drink [alcohol] to this day because I had this buzz in my head. It felt like I drank six beers.”

Although Kiff suffered a severe concussion, there was no curing the intoxication he felt when he entered a rodeo arena. He was soon back working with livestock.

“I was young and stupider [sic] then,” Kiff said. “And I still needed a paycheck.”

Kiff’s job was more dangerous in those days. From 1981-89, he worked as what is known in rodeo parlance as a “bull fighter,” whose job is to get between the bull and a fallen rider at the first sign of trouble.

“You have to jump in there and take the shot,” he said.

Now Kiff is mostly an entertainer. After purchasing a barrel in 1989, he transformed himself into a Bozo-style clown, complete with makeup, blond wig, goofy cowboy hat, oversized clothes and plenty of props.

His comic routines keep the crowd occupied between events and his padded, aluminum barrel helps to keep him protected from charging bulls.

During the bull riding, Kiff stands in his barrel, which is open at both ends and has handles on the inside so he can carry it. He usually is situated in the middle of the arena, about 40 feet from the bucking shoots.

“The best seat in the house,” he said.

Kiff peers over the top of the barrel, trying not to distract the bull and hurt the rider’s chance of getting a competitive ride. Two bull fighters are usually positioned on the fence, also trying to stay out of view.

If a rider is thrown or completes an eight-second ride, a horn goes off. That’s when Kiff and the bull fighters spring into action.

“I walk the barrel over to the bull and try to give the bull rider time to jump off once the bull is going straight,” Kiff said. “Sometimes the bull comes at me. Usually the bull fighter will lead [a bull] away and I’ll give him a chance to get behind me.

“I really haven’t been hurt as a clown, other than bumps and bruises. The potential [for injury] is there but I’ve been really fortunate.”

Danger isn’t what attracts Kiff to the rodeo. It’s comedy.

“I get paid to be funny,” he said. “I still have to get out of my barrel and help the bull riders every once in a while, but the most dangerous thing I do is drive.”

Kiff, who lives north of San Luis Obispo in Santa Margarita, has already traveled nearly 35,000 miles this year to perform at rodeos from Hawaii to Utah. Nearly every Friday he hitches up his trailer and travels to another destination. He’s had one weekend off since the start of the year.

Kiff works primarily for Flying U Rodeo, which is staging this weekend’s shows in Ventura and held a performance last weekend at the Forum. His deal with Flying U Rodeo pays him $350 per performance, meaning he’ll make $1,750 this weekend for five two-hour shows.

Kiff loves pleasing the crowd, particularly children.

“I focus on the kids, probably more than most [rodeo clowns],” he said. “I try to get them involved and make them laugh.

“It’s nothing dirty. We try to keep it clean, family entertainment. If I can make it a fun experience for them, I know they’ll be fans of rodeo for life.”

One of the centerpieces of Kiff’s act is his “little clown car.” The front end is a 1971 Subaru truck, cut in half and welded to the back of an electric golf cart. It measures about eight feet long and has given countless children an unforgettable ride.

“It will look like I have four bales of hay on the back of the truck, but really they’re hollow,” he said. “We’ll stuff them with kids. The announcer will warn about someone stealing hay and accuse me of it. Then all the kids pour out. We can get 16 kids in that car.”

Kiff, whose wife is expecting their first child, found the rodeo at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo while studying to become a teacher. With athletic options limited for a 5-foot-9 football player, he stumbled upon the school’s rodeo team one day and started hanging around.

The longer he was involved in rodeo, the more he liked it.

“Instead of being a special teams player in football, I found something I was decent at,” he said.

Explaining what he does for a living, however, isn’t always easy.

“Whenever anybody asks me about it, I compare it to mountain climbing,” Kiff said. “I’m afraid of heights and would never climb up all those rocks. But if I was around mountain climbers, it would begin to make some sense.

“Rodeo is the same way.”