Fernando Adrián does not miss an opportunity of the very few – there are too many fingers – that he has been offered. Since he opened Madrid's Puerta Grande twice in a row, he hasn't seen a python until the end of August. Maybe in three substitutions and, by right, in the place of his proxy: Cuenca. And in all of them he has triumphed. The discussions were directed against the system, but I, perhaps mistaken, put the focus of the problem elsewhere, in the Great Doors. But I'm already quiet for a while. The kid has not missed a shot of the few times he has been allowed to shoot. And this Thursday he put the heat to the ugly bulls of the cold of Bañuelos to go out on shoulders also in Valladolid.

A burraco bull with a broad face and loose flesh had premiered the bullfight -neither fine nor pretty, neither brave nor enclasada- with its good air. More than air, breeze. That softness that announces the power counted and the background of precise bravery. Miguel Ángel Perera, his arms loose, his lances straight, greeted him with feet together, returning cadences. He ordered the minimum punishment in the breastplate, almost a refilonazo, which the president thought was too little and ordered, strangely, to put him back on the horse. Perera removed by chicuelinas and tafalleras, dropping as a brooch an airy revolera. Already in banderillas the bull was tempted by the wants. MAP toasted José Moro knowing that shortcomings, or virtues, well managed, could give of themselves. And so it was. Task of precision and without demands with an onslaught with a point bounced by the lack of power, opening as it progressed and wanting to ignore the lack of bravery. But there were enough wickers so that, between the opening by changed knees and the end by manoletinas, the hands of the veteran Extremadura stretched the best of the bull like chewing gum. A glance at the querencia when he outlined it, by the exit python, broke the faith. Then he came back to brown, even changing the luck. The sword devastated the long endeavor.

The same could be said of Joselito Adame. Only in his case the bull, touched on top of pythons, which came from the inside, and then clung to the floor, reserving the delivery, I liked it less. And Adame, nothing. The B-side of his seasoned trade hides more traps than a Chinese movie: he applied all there were and to have. He responded to the meager delivery of the onslaught with none, zero exposure. Quite the opposite of Fernando Adrián, who took the substitution of Cayetano, and gave himself body and soul as if there was no tomorrow. Until his constant attack -from different registers; He did not develop two equal series - he crashed with the sword, precisely, for not attacking.

The bull, which already definitively confirmed the point more of the joint coarse on the usual of Valladolid, had some good notes of beginning and others not so much: the lack of endings, of background, but, above all, of class. And that, or everything, was evident in a fourth bull that seemed gross, with the handbrake on, a mobility without rhythm and not entirely frank, because it is what has the lack of delivery. Miguel Ángel Perera was removing dikes on his right hand to break it forward. Along the way there were some mushroom paradiñas that Perera fit with fortitude. Like headbutts by the left hand. In the end, as the Extremaduran is also stubborn of flats, he insisted on cutting off, rather tearing off, his ear. And he insisted on achieving it by luquecinas and a sword this time forceful.

Joselito Adame, the Mexican so many afternoons bragado in positions of responsibility, and so poorly rewarded, was soon cracked the chestnut fifth. But until that moment – the bull also came and went as a lie – his image did not go up a whole. And steel worked as a mask.

Finally, Fernando Adrián put the heat to the icy bravery of the cold bulls, without any quality, this sixth either. And he opened the big door with a task that homogenized, now, very embedded kidneys, with the crutch always on, to give the manageable bull the rhythm it did not have. He sprinkled the work, like the previous one, with inverted spindes and circulars. And, between the prologue of knees and pendulums, the epilogue by bernadinas and a voracious volapié, Adrián went in volandas, covering the mediocrity of the Bañuelos bullfight.


Plaza de VALLADOLID. Thursday, September 7, 2023. Second fair. One-third entry. Bulls of Antonio Bañuelos, strong but thin, of little background and without rhythm or class; vulgarly manageable.

MIGUEL ÁNGEL PERERA, IN SORAYA BLUE AND GOLD. Puncture, metisaca, half and two hairless. Notice (greetings). In the fourth, lunge (ear).

JOSELITO ADAME, OF NAZARENE AND ORO. Puncture and corner lunge (greetings). In the fifth, lunge (greetings).

FERNANDO ADRIÁN, IN WHITE AND GOLD. Two punctures and lunge. Notice (greetings). In the sixth, lunge (two ears). He walked out on his shoulders.

  • Bulls
  • Articles Zabala de la Serna
  • Miguel Angel Perera