A mellow, bittersweet aftertaste lingers in the afternoon, like a memory of yesterday. There is little leftover optimism about change, as years drift by and the idea that things could improve beside the stage of many actors fades away. The old saying sneaks in: nihil sub sole. Even a touch of nostalgia surfaces in the bullfighting world, with references to a famed nineteenth‑century Sevillian matador serving as a reminder that announcing a major event often feels like signing a non‑aggression pact: good bulls stay quiet, bad bulls stay quiet too, and the real loser is the spectator who feels nothing. In a bullfight, listening matters. Yesterday’s lineup of juampedros no longer carries unevenness or obvious fear and should not have even mounted the sixth ring. The crowd grows weary as three renowned toreros try to sell a routine, at times irritating, ride as if it were suspense.
And bittersweet, he noted, for thirty remarkable, long journeys through the prevailing mediocrity—at work, in the late afternoon, planning for the overflow under the name Zafador as the attack nears its peak. Such delicate performance found its mark in El Fandi, who has often presented himself as formidable, with a surrender that hardly goes unnoticed. The signature skill, including the violin, marked the moment. Yet those syrupy charge horns occasionally exposed subtle flaws in the fabric. Paradoxically, the most understated effort came from Fandila on his knees, handling the receipt with a gentle touch. From there, the longest and most stable crutches began. Accustomed, there were steep passes on both sides—some natural, others a stumble. And the greater fault lay in smothering Zafador’s powerful assault. While there was public applause, kneeling rounds, and boasts, the President withheld a second ear as allowed by the rules, instead presenting a measure of pleasure and refined judgment before the ridiculous beggar. If this pace continues into other festivals, a clear standard is set.
The Granada matador cut another ear from the man who disrupted the frame, another bull with a buoyant charge, unable to settle, probing too hard for the bull’s weaknesses to shorten the thread. A cape with long knee-lengths and graceful veronicas were deployed, and tight chicuelinas followed (Zafador was caught by one for zapopinas). As a torero in the Banderillas phase, the challenge was to finish breaking the ring. It proved very difficult.
The afternoon’s best moments came from Daniel Luque’s dolls in the third act. It is unfortunate that the noble horned bull from Veragua lacks the breath to sustain the attacks and give Luque’s rhythm its fullest sense. Gerena already stood out at the reception with a buoyant, spiraling air and closed the act with a packed, confident finish. The crutch work started strong, with more flair than precision. The toreador’s grace was evident, while the bull showed limited vitality. A single, splendid shield, three harmonious right hands, formed a sequence that resembled a piece of jewelry. Then the gentle natural movements—unforced—landed where the noble beast’s zeal required and where strength finally ebbed. This lack of enthusiasm kept what could have been a true triumph from fully landing, alas. And when melancholy sets in…
Added to the third’s merit was the sixth, a muddy lay of movement with little vitality. Luque, with knee turns and precise ojete stances, boasted about securing a front door through a spectacular display that ended awkwardly.
Sebastián Castella, who usually has a good run in the draw, drew the wrong card this time. His two opponents moved, yet with no grace. He emphasized the cloak’s cheerful take with a nod to the beginning of crutchwork. He attempted to launch ex officio and pull out some more promising batches, but progress faltered. The bull shortened the routes and kept him from showing off. A missed sword wound cost him an ear that Alicante’s generosity would have expected.
The fifth fight also suffered from quality. The French matador withdrew ex officio once more, placing crutches in the bull’s face and triggering repeated attacks. The two right‑handed parts carried substantial value. He was observed embracing while changing hands, pressing to drain the water from a well and retreating to a place where suburban bullfights rarely go, making it hard to pull a trophy and walk away empty‑handed in this arena, honestly.