The weight of bullfighting of Tomás Rufo dazzled. That swept Madrid like a tsunami. And he dynamited the Big Door with the overwhelming truth. A lime and song closed since 2015, when Roca Rey announced his time. The unanimity achieved carpeted a highway to the sky.

Without further ado, TR began to fight. As presented by his powerful left. A statuary as a prologue that did not seem the most convenient and now. To grind it. Everything below. From an exact placement, semi-frontilated, categorical natives were born. Of an early maturity. In his hands the steer of Fuente Ymbro broke into good. Or maybe in the lucid cap of brewer Rafael González already began to pick up. Until that moment it had moved above. In a very different way. Very straight and unkempt. The gaoneras of Fernando Plaza and the replica by the same suit of Rufo were counted by ayes and uys. But the source and member looked like another in the government in the amazing command of TR. As subjugating and admirable as the stroke. That reduced speed from the beginning. They call it temple. A trincherilla fastened with expensive drawing the second of the imposing left-handed series. They are bound, their premature plumb, they shook the square of their roost. On the right, the steer remembered his old being and loosed his feota face somewhat more. That nothing changed the overwhelming security of the Talaveran. Unheard of with so little baggage. He even relaxed the figure by loosening the demand of his government. The chest passes closed the rounds upward by the opposite shoulder. The climax sublime everything: the genuflex doubloons crunched Madrid at the touch of a wrist. The rotundness of the sword put an ear in his hand with the truth that emerges from his concept.

And he returned his talent to emerge with a handsome and burraco fifth. Of cheerful bravery. From the "Spells" of Ricardo Gallardo. Again soon and in hand. Now on the right. Encased and serene the link, preclara the head, very long stroke. Until behind the roar of Las Ventas. That it was thunder in a bent emptied by his left-handed gold. The same picture of the closure of the previous task. The natural ones, tremendous again, absolute for their depth. The remarkable source and ambassador abated its end, a slight mismatch, a corrective and brutal trench and some helped by tasty codilleo. The hinges of the Great Gate were already squeaking; The sensational lunge definitely greased them. The rolled ear fell like a spell. People asked for another, another, another. That could be perfectly to round a round afternoon without anyone having missed him. Gonzalo de Villa's box did not yield. Tomás Rufo walked two laps to the exultant, pleasing, happy ring. "Spell" was dragged between cheers and alive. Making honor to the toast to Florito, the quiet wise of the pens. TR went through the porch of glory with curd luck: the two pearls of Fuente Ymbro fell into his ball. The Rafi and Fernando Plaza wanted without echo or fortune.

SOURCE AND MEMBER

El Rafi, Tomás Rufo and Fernando Plaza

Monumental Sales. Friday, September 27, 2019. First fair. Three quarters of entry. Ymbro Fountain Steers,

Rafael Raucoule "El Rafi", olive green and gold. Lunge detached (silence).

Tomás Rufo, of green bottle and gold. Lunge pierced (ear). In the fifth, lunge (ear and request).

Fernando Plaza, mauve and gold. Two half lunges laid and hairless (silence). In the sixth, lunge that stands guard, two punctures and lunge (silence).

According to the criteria of The Trust Project

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