Back in the Days of Empire, in a much-less enlightened world, hunting dangerous big African Game (miss the shot, you're eaten, trampled, etc.) was considered sport for those who could afford to go the 'Dark Continent' and stare down a bull elephant or Cape Buffalo while it was charging you and deliver the coup de grace, falling (hopefully) at your feet. Think Hemingway, double rifles in 500 Nitro Express, guides, gun bearers, the Gilded Age.
At least back then, there were far larger numbers of these things, and occasionally it was required when a dangerous animal would go rogue and they had to be put down to save lives and property, and occasionally is still required today, if the animal just can't be relocated.
But that was a long time ago, and a different era in our relationship with these animals.
Personally, I have NO trouble with a fair, licensed hunt and a quick, humane kill on something that will feed your family, no problem at all, I eaten lots of venison, and the occasional squirrel or game bird. I love guns, and I have lots of friends that are very responsible 'fill the freezer' hunters. I often think I may be happier shopping at Cabela's or Bass Pro Shop (where I've YET to find a Bass) as I am at Guitar Center.
I have utterly no patience with killing for the thrill of it, thereby wasting an animal for no other reason than gratification. This would include 'trophy hunting', where you're simply shooting for a head for your wall or a hide for a rug. For the life of me, I can in no way imagine that these magnificent beasts were made just to be a conversation piece for some Walter Mitty who has the budget to go to Africa, but his b***s are so little that instead of manning up and facing this big cat head on, he pops it with a crossbow, tracks it bleeding and hurt for the next 40 hours, and finally shoots it to end the suffering with a gun. And all this after attracting it by dragging a bloody bait behind a pickup truck to 'chum' it into range.
I have no way to say in this polite company what I'm thinking, and just how bad I'd like to FEED this guy to a lion . . . . a little at a time.
Joey