10 minutes before the start of the Corrida de la Prensa, the last of San Isidro, the teacher Paco Ojeda prophesied to Victorino Martín that the afternoon was going to be for him. He had seen the six Cinqueños bulls that came and at this moment he was x-raying the personnel who passed through the corridors when he waited to complete the King: "They come to see Victorino, it is his public," he said as he turned to me and pointed to the rancher. Two and a half hours later, the entire square of Madrid stood ovation the drag of the tremebundo last bull of the afternoon, one of those veletos that had not been seen for a long time and that was a real spectacle. Victorino, as the legendary bullfighter prophesied, had reigned again in his fief. Which was double: in Madrid and in the Corrida de la Prensa. And he did it with a bullfight that was, above all, first and foremost – the variety of behaviors and styles – a spectacle.

Paco Ureña was throughout the afternoon the absolute surrender, naked honesty, life and death bareback, until he conquered the only ear of the afternoon. And maybe the Golden of the Press too. Emilio de Justo was touched, a lot. Already on his penultimate afternoon he had felt that Madrid, this capricious and voracious square, had let go of his hand. And when the sixth was dragged, when he punctured it, more exactly, they abandoned it as broken games are abandoned. They had never been with him, but with the tremebundo Director. That he stretched with all his rag on his back. Without ever leaving completely and repeating like a machine, setting the pace. De Justo, among notable series, never found the echo of a square that the day before yesterday, as he says, was his.

At 19.23 Paco Ureña was born again. The task, so early in the afternoon, distributed high-voltage cramps through the lines. The victorine opening of a cinqueño corridón of imposing façade was bathed by the hamstrings again and again until he caught Ureña in an anaconda movement. As if it enveloped him. He knocked him down and on the ground, without reaching to injure him, hit him with the shovels and trampled him to the soul. When he got up, it looked like a stampede of buffalo had passed over him. An apparent gap, the pink suit dyed red and bruises even in the sky of the mouth. Still a few minutes later the Lorca of seven lives would be resurrected again when the cardene – who neither humiliated nor had power, always staying below or behind – caught him by the chest in the volapié to blood and fire. The killer fell as if a grenade had been detonated. They incorporated it almost with a crane. He had played everything for everything to pure cushion, with nothing or little in return with a bug that ended up cracked. The opposite thrust – because so much was docked bull – needed hair. The request was powerful. But the president harshly reviled her. Paco Ureña gave up the return to the ring that he should have given. It was, moreover, burst.

At the dawn of the afternoon, Emilio de Justo's head worked orderly: the bull picked up something and his eagerness to pull forward became limited. So EdJ granted him the middle distance and without touches helped him to travel the way. First on the left hand and then on the right. But the victorine began to fade. He killed him well. The prize was requested but did not go to majors.

The diminished state of Ureña was verified when he walked the ring with the ear of the third victorino, who opened the turn of the three sons of the mythical Cobradiezmos pardoned in Seville. That third and fourth still gave an air in workmanship and style, fine and harmonic, humiliating both and of higher note in their right. Good bulls. But the fifth, a tank, could have been awarded for free on the paternity payroll to Cobradiezmos because neither outside nor inside looked like his father. Sometimes it happens in the best families. And it was also a whore without fixity or object. Ureña played it and, after a thrust to the match, he did not want to go crazy, two warnings fell and silenced him.

The task with which Paco Ureña had obtained a prize was based on the good right python, on its quality. From the folds of the prologue to the development of the first batches, so embedded the bullfighter, opened the compass, very slow one and lighter another but very long stroke both. The work was pigeonholed in the most shrunken left-handed journey of this Slave, which would again occur generously at the zenith on the right hand.

Similar to this third had the fourth, a painting. Emilio de Justo was only shouted "you're out!" And it thickened. Victorino reigned again and Paco Ojeda was prophetic.


MONUMENTAL OF LAS VENTAS. Sunday, June 4, 2023. Press Run. Last of the fair. Full of no tickets. Bulls of Victorino Martín, all cinqueños; of imposing presentation in its different works; notable the 6th; of quality 3rd and 4th by the right; complicated and without humiliating 1st and 2nd; Infumable the distracted 5th.

PACO UREÑA, IN PINK AND GOLD. Contrary lunge and hairlessness. Notice (strong request and greetings); prick and lunge (ear); half thrust to the encounter. Two warnings (silence).

EMILIO DE JUSTO, TILE AND GOLD. Lunge somewhat stretched. Notice (strong request and greetings); half lunge detached and pierced. Warning (silence); Two punctures and almost entire lunge. Notice (greetings).

  • Philip VI
  • April Fair
  • Bulls
  • Victorino Martin
  • Articles Zabala de la Serna

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