The centimeters that separate glory from tragedy: an important afternoon for Borja Jiménez and Espada (with blood tribute)

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Blood bathed at the end of an afternoon with an unbreakable truth. Francisco José Espada paid the tribute to his absolute dedication with a serious goring. And Borja Jiménez once again ratified the extraordinary moment he is going through with the most important job. Both Espada and Jiménez were denied glory by inches. Margé’s bullfight, very astifina, very serious and cinqueña, with which she took seniority, moved with emotional meekness, changeable and with very loose faces. And he had in the imposing fifth the most important representative of him.

The bull fight lasted more than 30 minutes with which José Fernando Molina confirmed the alternative. The bullfight was difficult to flag. Margé’s was down the hook, without class and becoming more complicated as Molina’s firm series progressed. That he has a good line, temper and a paper rapier. At 7:36 p.m., the bull took off his bowtie with a blast when he desperately attacked the third trip with the sword. Two advertisements graced his performance. His wickerwork was intuited again with a sixth with a sad profile and poor employment. And also the null steel of him.

At 8:00 p.m., when Alcaraz gave up Wimbledon, Borja Jiménez greeted an ovation. The Jiménez thing had an extraordinary fit and seat. From the beautiful prologue of the task-a poster trench-, the cinqueño always peeked over the toothpick but then he counted on his boarding point. His marked meekness grappled with BJ for the short time it lasted. He was always well positioned until the bull cracked before puncturing him. People roared at 8:35 p.m. with Borja Jiménez in such a way that it seemed like the square was full. What a way of fighting for this guy who is going through the moment of his life. The task – his weight, the way he belted himself, his proper positioning – took flight from the depth of the opening doubloons and two rounds of right hands, so expensive that the bull seemed better (even then doing well). Margé’s bulls hit some disconcerting changes. Then he released the face more. Suddenly a python; suddenly I follow her; and always BJ looking for depth. He also embroidered it with his left hand. Even when he wanted to leave. Bárbaro Jiménez even in the final manoletinas. He sank the sword detached from the cross. He needed pissing, he asked for his ear and it was not granted either. I am not saying that you have to renounce the demand of Madrid, but it would be convenient to put in context the summer, the corridón, the stone and the dedication of those who come with a voracious hunger for glory and by centimeters they were left without it…

Later, Espada was counted 15 and 20 centimeters from the goring on the right thigh. At 8:20 p.m., she had been denied the prize for an important performance, apparently because she buried the opposite steel, binging on a bull. Or because tissues were missing. But the reality is that Espada was involved in an exciting task with the broken mobility of that beast that released its face with violence. Cleaning was sometimes impossible. He walked around the ring.

At 8:57 p.m. Espada would comply with Chenel’s maxim: prompt and in hand. And it was the right. The fifth was a very cheeky and deep turkey that placed the face with continuity and transmission. That stretch of work was curdled by FJ Espada until he took the left and the bull lowered his performance. But he never gave up doing things his way. There were a few giving, incomprehensibly, the rattle. When he placed himself to close by bernadinas, the terrifying catch ensued. Again the same result of San Isidro, but much more serious. The bull Jiménez killed, the president sent an idiotic notice and the people got into a brawl. Nobody asked for the ear. Damn what a square

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