Paraphrasing that song by Loquillo in which he wondered where he is, where was the Europe we won and the Spain we lost, we should ask ourselves where Victorino's bull is and where he went. That must be asked by all the public that has disengaged from the victorinadas and the little that this Sunday attended in Valencia. Seeing the first two bulls of the afternoon of this nefarious March 19, once a big day, the question reveals a major problem of lack of entity, personality and, ultimately, bravery of a very defined iron in the good and the bad. For the bad guy, in the glorious past, the so-called vermin, Victorinus was worth and gave him fame. And the good bull, prestige. And always with the trapío by flag. What is not worth it, because there is nowhere to take it, is the animal devoid of power, free of thrust, empty of race. And, on top of that, without the category or respect of the packaging. Read the first -shaken and high as a wildebeest with its black crest and all- and the ugly second -devoid of profile and with Vietnamese pig making-. That one lay down to the bartola as soon as Paco Ureña stopped him on feet together and this one as soon as Daniel Luque started the task. The pulse in the two bullfighters was manifest. In one case so that it would not fall and in another to get rid of it. Well Ureña making bobbin lace with tremulous goodness and no options Luque more than in a couple of naturals.

The third did not come – one of the four five-year-olds of the shipment along with the previous, the fourth and the sixth – to get the run out of the quagmire. They say that, when a cattle ranch is gone, the telltale sign that evidences the degeneration is the loss of the type, the type of the house of the crowned A in this case. When it is possible to ask again, where is it, where did Victorino's bull go. Little seriousness, no race. A desperate thing that way of getting ahead and bumping without passing. Fringes of morucha blood. The anger, still then deaf, began to cramp the lines: "What a firecracker!" Paco Ureña crashed again and again against that emptiness.

Caught on pins, he jumped the room, his face open and his soul candida. Another air in his way of wanting to take the deceptions, with a certain class, losing his hands. Daniel Luque was clear of tune with the clayey onslaught. To take care of it and rock it. From that mime at his height he was strengthening it as he regulated the crutch. Treatment and tact, delicatessen. More the task. That reached its zenith in a series rocked like all but felt like none. On the right the high, the change of hand, the chest pass, the open path to glory. On the left there was an attempt, which was only the prologue of the final ecstasy: a batch of natives in frontilados, with the beat in the yolks, turned the square upside down. From anger to enthusiasm. A sovereign sword shot him to the strong request, held by the box until the last breath of the mulillas. An ear of law.

The bullfight came from najas. There was considerable trouble when the fifth was released. Someone shouted in the alley that this was not Paco Ureña's bull, but Luque's. Ureña was saved between tables. They came with the papers. No, no, yes. The bull was not to go. Neither Paco nor Daniel. Slaughterhouse rather. Thing so ungainly, crosses the horn, the culmination of this staircase of town and talanqueras, so ugly. And of leathery journey, without giving himself or surrendering, liar, always by the stick the auctions. Serious there was, really, the deaf effort of Lorca. Where it is, where it went...

To last jumped the victorine with more category of first place, very serious. Touched on top of pythons. A stunning rag. He developed a temper, more of a bully than a brave. As it would look on the horse. Daniel Luque wanted to wear it long, even though he had let go of the first stick. It was torn from afar to the second, more spectacular gallop and distance than sincere employment and fight. A lot of noise down there, unleashed the ovations for such butt puyazos. People were tracking some hint of bravery. Ivan Garcia stood out with the sticks. The whole DL crew shone all afternoon: Curro Javier and, above all, Juan Contreras, very complete, also with the capote. The bully lost momentum. It usually happens with false bravery. Luque's task was serious, solvent, very capable to pass the stone bull. The question spread among the people: where is, where did he go, the bull of Victorino, protagonist of a disastrous brooch for a good fair.

Token

VALENCIA Bullring. Sunday, March 19, 2023. Last fair. Half entry. Bulls of Victorino Martín; four Cinqueños -2nd, 3rd, 4th and 6th-; an unpresentable, ugly, uncategorized staircase; Without power, or strength, braveled.

PACO UREÑA, scarlet and gold. Puncture and lunge corner and release (greetings); two punctures, another deep and hairless (silence); lunge (greetings)

DANIEL LUQUE, in light blue and gold. Puncture and lunge (silence); lunge (ear); Almost full lunge and two hairless (farewell ovation).

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