The paseillo broke badly, and the respected elder, occupying nearly three-quarters of the rows, forced the three bullfighters to bow. The injury to Morante de la Puebla, who suffered a broken rib after getting caught in Badajoz late yesterday, has overshadowed one of the fair’s fiercest debates. It’s a major setback for this troupe. First, the matter for Manzanares. This is yesterday. It isn’t worth the hype some 2023 Bonfire posters generated. Like the 24’s poster, the organizers introduced more than one notable change this time, and Manuel Escribano was chosen for one dramatic afternoon. Even with refunds issued, the long queues at the end signaled strong attendance.
The return of the Victorinos to the Alicante arena opened on a confident note. The first to set the tone was a fighter named revenge. From Rafaelillo’s initial blows, it was clear the animal tucked his head and moved with the nimble speed typical of albaserrada bulls, his muzzle pressed to the ground, resisting blows from above. He did not appear particularly strong and sagged after the second strike. The rhythm repeated two or three more times during the bout. Yet, after the third and fourth banderillas, Fernando Sánchez’s performance rose to the fore, and the Murcian torero managed to steady himself, control distance, and invite the crowd to cheer. The first sequence, led by the right-handed style, unfolded as a measured, patient performance that demanded care and a gentle touch. In every impact, as with a chest pass, the bull sometimes faltered and fell. Rafael Rubio, well-versed in these battles, carried a well-earned reputation for his steady presence and long, deliberate journeys. The Pastueña attack meant long, soft, and transparent movements. Courage proved essential. At times, that softness in the bull deserved a touch more joy, taste, and delicacy. The strike was heavy. Everyone in the stands expected an ear, yet the crowd surprised by waving two white handkerchiefs and then the blue one, bestowing the prize for the bull’s graceful circuit of the ring. Some confusion followed, and it felt unusual when a spectator seemed to mix up the handkerchiefs, drawing general disapproval from the crowd.
In the end, Venganza proved the longest-lasting prop for the Victorinos, a stubborn third that stretched the fight. Another performance by Rafaelillo, this time with a long one that began on his knees, added complexity to the game. The struggle intensified when the puya’s club vanished after the horse’s first introduction to the animal he was meant to calm. Peppermint kept it under scrutiny, fanning the moment with a kind of festive gesture. He gauged and stretched the Albaserrada, twisting the ankle. If not for an infamous old vermin of Galapagar’s ignoramus, more might have been revealed than just a braid in other hands. After a few final chest passes, a dramatic move earned another ear and crowned him as the show’s top winner. It’s clear that handkerchiefs can be deceiving.
Cornalon in 2016
Manuel Escribano remained intensely focused all afternoon. He saluted Chema Reyes and Alberto Miñano, doctors who have stood by him since they saved him in 2016. Vicente Ruiz El Soro walked beside the band, trumpet in hand, insisting on a floral reveille and marking Nerva paso doble’s solos. Folklore, after all, can shape moments. In the opening bars, the horned torero carried more energy and emotion, but as the second series began, he paused, and his form weakened, dragging his team down with torn socks caused by the bullfighter’s feelings. A single misstep before a dramatic move stole the trophy.
The fifth bull, a striking purple with refined craftsmanship, greeted him with a long knee that later drew mixed reactions in veronicas. After a disjointed stroll with the Garapullos, he raised a toast to the crowd, and echoes of the previous debate resurfaced. Long-stroke crutches appeared in the first right-handed batches, but it was already evident the animal would drag the tempo, dulling the energy and continuity of the performance. Some natural moves, favoring Victorino’s man, showed intent, but the march lost momentum. The attack, called the Mexican by some, didn’t bring much luck. The disproportionate move earned a mixed reception and a double trophy claim that fell short of full execution.
Pablo Aguado surprised in third with a capotero reception and notable Verónicas, especially two on the right. The high point arrived in the second pass when Borrajero advanced boldly and with length, offering precise, thoughtful control. The effort, executed with calm and precision, looked promising. Aguado’s team seemed ready to help, but this first encounter with Albaserradas carried the weight of legend perhaps stronger than the bull itself. The animal demanded a stable base, and Aguado insisted on maintaining medium-height trips. In the second lap, the naturals were milder, with graceful kicks from the left. It felt like a squeeze, a moment to connect and heat the performance. A blade jam halted a potential mug cut. In the sixth, the other side of the coin emerged. The cardinal bull charged, dug in, and challenged anyone who blocked its path. After an initial display of restraint, a bold jab drew more attention, and the crowd’s cheers grew. Yet watching a captivated audience, one heard the truth: paying for a ticket doesn’t guarantee full knowledge of every moment. Aguado looked set to struggle before the Victorino, but he then planted a solid crutch and delivered sequences few expected when no one paid a cent for the show. He eased off the crutches to provoke measured attacks, exploiting the short-horn ride first. It proved disappointing for some until he created the decisive right-handed maneuver that finally sparked the response. The performance, natural and peppered with pinwheels and rough edges, could not be forced to perfection, yet it left spectators with a lasting impression, earned with the audience’s warm applause for the third.