If José Antonio Labordeta defined his Aragon of the soul as a land "of dust, fog, wind and sun", the San Isidro Fair, which is coming to an end, will be remembered, along with what happened in the arena, either for good or bad, like that of the wind (in its early days) and water (in other dates).
Necessary water, rained from heaven, but which not only made Easter for the spectators of the festivities, but also conditioned the artistic result of these, affecting both the behavior of the bulls (it should not be the same, I say that I am not a bull , walk, gallop and attack on solid ground than between puddles and mud), as what the bullfighters (matador and gangs) intended. While on windy afternoons they had to keep one eye on the bull and the other on the flying cape and crutch or, if it rained, be able to handle one and the other with added weight (water).
Going out first and starting to rain (after a sunny day) was all one (it stopped after a while). Noble and fair bull of strength that allowed Uceda a temperate task for the two pitons with verticality and binding. Great stabber as he is, on this occasion Uceda got involved in puncturing.
What things are, in the fourth, those of the rebellious line received him with a standing ovation. It was a question of horns, showy and astifinos.
Uceda Leal searched for land where the wind would least bother and there he planned a task in which he left traces of his natural elegance. The bull never took the crutch frankly, you had to swallow and there were just the huge pythons.
Uceda did it and naturals of great merit emerged, especially a series that started with feet together and ended with their chests ahead, luck loaded. Focused, brave, extremely bullfighter, the veteran right-hander from Madrid threw himself to kill as if there were no tomorrow, his heart ahead, between the terrifying pitons and the lunge at the top was the perfect signature. His ear, indisputable.
Long was Morante's cloak greeting to his first turn, a bunch of verónicas in which what was anticipated was cheered as well as what was achieved, like the last verónica, very slow. The tercio de varas was a nonsense, the bull that did not want to know anything about the horse, the picador taking the mount beyond the lines of the tercio (sin of lesa bullfighting according to the usual ones) and the gang from here to there.
He doubled down with the bull Morante at the start of the slaughter and when he began to fight round the third right hand the bull went to his chest. Up to there we have arrived, he must have thought the killer of him, he took the sword and something else.
Again we were left without seeing Morante de la Puebla with the cape in his reception to the fifth and that annoyed the staff, as much as the two long-lasting sticks he took, with Morante marking one of disguise.
And the anger at the picador, Pedro Iturralde, was Homeric as he retreated down the alley on the back of his horse. To complete the picture, Morante began to fight, or try to, on the grounds of seven.
The shouts and the tango clapping intensified as Morante did what he did without any conviction, the same one he showed when he went in to kill. The anger was heard in Cibeles. By the way, Morante's misfortune was clear again in the morning draw. The thing about La Maestranza and the Domingo Hernández bull whose tail was cut off was the exception to a rule that already lasts too long.
As third came a bull from José Vázquez (the other five, from El Torero) ugly as he alone. He corresponded to Sebastián Castella, who on his first afternoon won the front door. And nothing good augured with his elusive behavior before capes and picador.
With command and bullfighting, Castella began the task with crutches from below, including a cheery change of hand. And he ran his hand with his left while now it was the wind that played against it. With the right, more armed with the crutch, round series came in which the bull, brusque and classless, at least repeated his onslaught, always firm and established the Béziers bullfighter.
The task of a capable, committed bullfighter, finished off with a withering blow that the public wanted to reward with an ear waving their handkerchiefs until the usía showed his in the box.
The sixth one wore two candles, but they did not applaud this one and Castella fought the veronica without much relief. The bull rushed to the horse with a joyful stride in two measured punches and the pikeman left amid applause. And deserved was also the ovation that Rafael Viotti greeted after two extraordinary pairs of flags.
Big door runrún when Castella toasted the public. Opening of work again with the firmness by flag and crutch on the right. Long series but without finishing ruling in the attacks.
The crutch on the left and the bull that came over him. The somersault, the bullfighter flying from one piton to another and, despite his appearances not indicating it, with a goring to the left thigh.
Castella gave him caste before a bull that developed for the worse and which he effectively killed. And the final ovation, thwarted the jackpot, recognized the effort.
The walk in reverse, Uceda Leal and Castella did it to cheers and Morante to the rain, this time on pads.
