The opening celebrations came on foot, a sharp wind cooling the sunlit stands but unsettling the matadors in the ring. It isn’t the sole factor, but stronger fabrics and Fuente Ymbro horns might push some crossovers toward greater command and presence.
Centered on the show’s charismatic torista, the Cadiz bulls did not quite meet the crowd’s expectations. Overall, with varying caste tones, they ranged from the genius of the sixth to the nobility of the fifth. Many began to dig in, others, like the first and fourth, failed quickly. They followed the ancestral line but lacked density.
Antonio Ferrera opened the afternoon wearing his blue cape. The animal pressed to the right under Percale, and after a steady thrust, he started driving the animal in two right-hand movements with a clear line, though unsolicited. The wind complicated the setting, and with his right hand the bull was more guarded, yet he produced some vertical, majestic right hands. Lifting half, he saluted with a round of applause.
Ginés Marín doubles down on his first foe. | ALEX DOMINGUEZ
The fourth Cadiz iron example moved with little energy. Ferrera treated it like a cape, mimicking the Mexican Pana, bluffing before the first burst of speed with a bouquet that lacked brilliance. Fernando Sánchez nailed this and many fairground moments, letting the bull linger at the cite and exiting gracefully with his chest held high. He guided Ferrera to the public, dominating the early outings. The movement marked the start of a more deliberate stage.
Perera was not a shadow of his glorious past. Aside from a strong team led by a moderate Javier Abel in fabrics and a fully capable Curro Javier with banderillas, there were moments of anger and power that have lately defined the fairs. The second bull of the afternoon was tough and delivered a jolt in the middle of the muletazo. At times Perera managed to soften the horned man’s journey and then bind the action, but the dissonance and setbacks persisted, and the animal demanded firm command that the bullfighter did not always achieve. One bold move averted greater harms.
The fifth session wore on, with Perera stretching out the flannel long and tirelessly, never ending with complete confidence until the third pass. He controlled with his right hands, some smoother, some natural, but there was always a sense that something more was missing. The worst moment came when he found resources within himself to crush the two opponents but failed to strengthen the target. On top of that, Perera twice took a risk that left him vulnerable, once after losing the crutch and again when a cloak tore on the capotero cue. Those who watched understood the pressure—who saw, saw.
In the end, Ginés Marín emerged with the most bets on him, delivering a decisive commitment in the end. His use of steel was vigorous—showing the timing, the cautious start, and the precision of placement. The two ears awarded from the sixth felt a touch extreme, yet the performance itself justified the decision. His ready disposition was clear, evidenced by two notable dismissals of rivals; the first with elegant chicuelinas and the sixth with a mix of Chicuelo, tafalleras and cordobinas. The sundry passes and long throws crowned the interceptions.
An insecure Perera had a few troubling moments, as noted in the accompanying caption. He faced a formidable seventh, a notably clever animal that moved a lot yet produced repeated setbacks, a trait often described in contemporary commentary as “shake off” or similar. Where it would lead remained unclear. The most decisive moment for Marín came when the bull touched the fabrics only slightly; a stronger connection could have spelled disaster. That inconsistency in offense proved hard to tame, and when the penultimate goal was finally achieved, it was decorated with capstans and hand changes. The sword finally closed the rub, as noted earlier.
Before the third, Marín had already proven himself as the solver, completing the Extremaduran trio. The Fuente Ymbro bull showed interesting timing through the middle, quickly learning the tricks, humiliating and slipping, with floor knee starters delivering command and flavor. He remained a notable presence from afar in the media, and the animal responded well until the third muletazo, which drew more suspicion from the tables. From then on, the struggle declined. A second-round hand change followed, and Marín misfired on the pitch, breaking the streak. He managed only a clean muletazo with the Zocata and focused on the right-hand squeeze, radiating his affection for the animals already evident in the final passes. The affair closed with a confident ear paid for steel-laden work.