Eventually, the bears became quite the celebrities. Shakespeare even wrote a bear in as a deus ex murder machine in The Winter's Tale, and makes numerous references to bear-baiting in The Merry Wives of Windsor. Shakespearean theater and bear-baiting actually had a very close relationship. Paris Gardens, a popular London bear-baiting arena, was next to the Globe, Shakespeare's home theater, and prominent theater folk like Philip Henslowe and Edward Alleyn were Masters of the Game. In fact, in compliance with decrees from the Privy Council, theaters would shut down on Thursdays and Sundays to encourage people to spend more money on bear-baiting, which is like if Congress passed a law that Netflix had to shut down on Sundays so that we'd all watch HBO pay-per-view bumfights.
"It's not TV. It's the downfall of society."
Bear-baiting wasn't banned until 1835, though not without earlier resistance from Parliament. Part of the disgraceful delay was because people suspected the ban was a conspiracy by Methodists and Jacobins to deprive people of their fun so that they'd be susceptible to anti-nationalism. If your patriotism only gets activated by the smell of fresh bear blood, we're on the side of the Jacobins. Maybe try fireworks instead?