With a capital J in gold, for Jandilla and El Juli, the great afternoon of San Fermín, the bullfight of the fair, was written. 25 years in figure always responding to the call of Pamplona, 39 ears adding the three of this Wednesday, 12 + 1 large doors. For this thirteenth, let’s say it without fear of the jinx, he went accompanied by Cayetano, all race and sword, or just race and sword, which earned him so that the spirit of San Fermin equalized the teaching and the unclassifiable and tied his performances in ears.
When El Juli saw himself between Antonio Ferrera’s bottle-green cape with emerald turns and Cayetano’s testimonials with his crutch in hand as soon as he broke the paseíllo -and that XXL jacket-, he must have uttered an inaudible WTF under his breath, the version English of Romanones: «Damn, what a troop». Or that I am alone The propulsion of his umpteenth success in San Fermín was a notable bullfight by Jandilla which, for the moment, is undoubtedly the one of the fair, paving the way for the jury of the House of Mercy, orphaned until the date of candidacies. A set of extraordinary balance in its presentation. Trapío and harmony, seriousness after the cuvillada. And background in different gradations of caste and bravery, also belt, some tame fringe, others of last class and a single mole -the 4th-. Proper names such as Vibrante (1st), Torbellino (5th) or Cumbersome (6th) made up a wonderful cocktail.
Very soon a prize-winning bull jumped into the bullfight even though others came to surpass him: Vibrante responded to his name, opening the afternoon with encastado air. Jandilla came to pick up the Carriquiri trophy at noon for the most complete copy of 2022 and already presented his candidacy for 23. Castaño, tall-corned, would be the expression of five years old -the only five-year-old in the shipment-, carved on his fibrous body, like a bull moved -those flat bellies of almost six-, strong striker, a respect. With a quick character and clear fixity, he was employed on the horse. And he also humiliated. More shooting than rhythm at the beginning of work. Antonio Ferrera got into the first two series of right hands, after the doubloons, at his speed. I mean, very fast. Clean and in the natural lines of the jandilla. That on the left he slightly bounced an attack that had been tempered by wear. By the time he presented his right hand again, which was his hand, other virtues were appreciated in the bull, in the way of placing the face until the end. AF rounded off a good series and then went through the ribs. The task did not pass to majors. AF, very deep, crashed into the spectacular room, the mole.
The light came back with the precision of El Juli with a bull that also added a note in Jandilla’s bullfight precisely because of the exact administration of his hands. Long-legged but not tall, with a headdress on top of pitons and a generous neck, he immediately showed his meek willows, that temperance when opening up and wanting to leave, letting go of the reception sets. He measured it in the first rod, calibrated it in a quite by chicuelinas and it was difficult to convince him for the next match on the horse. The task was a compendium of temper and administration, of wise choice of land and exacting measure to enhance the zeal until it was necessary to press. By the right python, which was the python of the bull, the work broke out. A very rear lunge, a fair ear.
Another two would fall from the head of Torbellino, the bull of the afternoon, who had been humiliated from a meter before. Expensive and sustained fund. Juli tied it from below in round batches, always forward, always reduced to the precise time, without breaking or breaking the verticality and, therefore, in the contention of the deep. Or the roundness. The left was in favor of a less applied attack. When he slowed down Torbellino more, JL raised the pitch of a square that did not lose rubble with an inverted circular, the chest passes sought with a turn -so Spartacus- so that the bull always found a crutch and an epilogue by luquecinas that catapulted the task. The choirs sang songs of “bullfighter!, bullfighter!, bullfighter!”. As with a superior respect to his career. The thrust, in its style but not as rear as the previous one, unleashed the madness, the unrestrained scarf, the two ears.
Cayetano, who already has 17 years of alternative, although it may not seem like it, was race and sword, disposition and dedication throughout the afternoon. Which is already written. But please don’t put the videos in schools.