Charity Run: Unexpected Big Gate for a lucky and dedicated Fernando Adrián | Culture

Fernando Adrián’s Puerta Grande was unexpected because until the sixth bull came out, the bullfight had been an unbearable embarrassment due to the disability of the unpresentable bulls that Garcigrande sent and the authority approved. But that last one, who headed like the others in varas, who received no punishment and folded his hands when getting off the horse, galloped in banderillas, allowed Ángel Otero to shine in a first pair, and reached the muleta with sufficient and exceptional air class for the glory of a lucky Fernando Adrián.

The Madrid bullfighter, subscribed to the outings on his shoulders, – fifteen bullfights last year and in all of them he came out on the wing -, gathered dedication from the moment he opened his cape in his first, he easily reached the stands with a bullfight of Little depth but overflowing with dedication and confidence, and he cut off an ear the second in the afternoon and could have walked both of the last if he didn’t puncture before taking a blow.

That bull, named Jokester, charged with humiliation and fixity, with nobility and greed, and exalted the modern, accelerated and superficial, but spectacular and daring, concept of Adrián’s bullfighting. You cannot deny his hunger for triumph, he is a true bullfighter and stands up gallantly, even though his muletazos lack any trace.

He killed his first two very well, and cut off an ear of his debut, an invalid animal that collapsed on several occasions, but to which he linked many passes that were cheered by the generous audience. In the end, he turned flamenco, dedicated himself to playing with his harmless opponent, and even threw away his crutch and stood up as if nothing had happened. Some final bernadinas finished off the team and allowed him to walk the trophy.

Kneeling, in the center of the ring, he began the task in the sixth, with two passes exchanged from behind and four long right hands that captivated the majority of those in attendance. He then accompanied with a certain grace the sweet and greedy attack of the animal, and some elegant help from below suggested that he could cut off a double appendage. He slipped when going in to kill and left a nasty puncture, which did not prevent him from opening the Puerta Grande de Las Ventas again (this is the third in his career).

He was only able to cover the file in his second, whose struggle took place between angry public protests over his manifest disability and the president’s incomprehensible refusal to return him to the pens. But Adrián turned a deaf ear and gave him passes that didn’t interest anyone.

And Castella went unnoticed with two bulls, the third—in which José Chacón greeted after two vibrant pairs of banderillas—and the fifth, bullshit and crippled, despite his efforts to justify himself for no reason. He even asked those who were protesting to calm down as if they were not right.

As happened on Saturday, the first bull of the afternoon was in charge of announcing to the world what the rancher had sent. His face fell. How would it be that Castella, after hitting him twice without any salt, got down on his knees with the intention, presumably, of adding some interest to the scene. And he didn’t even succeed. He charged the little animal with such gentleness that the interest it aroused was null. As expected, he was not stung. Adrián made a move for burlesque tafalleras and Castella responded for chicuelinas, and, in view of the extreme kindness, he dared to draw two naturals and a chest pass with the cape in one hand, which the bull accepted without question. But Castella was not well before that blessed animal that resorted to the crutch with a desperate docility; Castella mulleted him gracelessly and detachedly, and between the dull bullfighter and the bull raised with a bottle, the resulting work said nothing.

The truth is that the Charity bullfight, which they say is the most important of the year, was ruined from the moment the Plaza 1 company and the Bullfighting Affairs Center made the gross mistake of leaving it in a head-to-head fight. As if there were no bullfighters of interest who had given the poster the luster it lacked.

And, then, the bulls; rather bulls, bulls with beardless faces, without an iota of strength, kitsch of as much goodness as they accumulated, affectionate little sheep, unsuitable for the minimum emotion that bullfighting demands.

Hence, the celebration took place amidst fair protests on the part of the people, answered by a majority that cheered for no reason at the passes, many of them lacking the most basic depth, which they hit the two bullfighters from hand to hand. In the end, a bullfighter with luck and recognizable dedication came out on his shoulders. Goodness.