The Bullfight

Sevilla, 20 June, 2010. First of all, it was like an NFL game, but with considerably more at stake than a point spread. It was a social event with glamour and spectacle, music, food and drink. There were old men, young studs with trophy women, families with young children, and tourists. I went with a Russian guy I met at the hostel. It was a bit confusing buying tickets, because there were so many gates, but only one ticket office. Tickets ranged from ~7 Euros in the sun up high, to more than 50 Euros for good seats in the shade.  We found a guy dumping tickets and bought two 34 Euro tickets for 25 each. They were great seats on the front aisle with only 3 rows in front of us.

The first thing I noticed was the dirt was domed. The center of the ring was perhaps a foot higher than the edge. There were two red circles in the dirt not far from the edge, I assume to let the matador know where he is. The dirt was clean and groomed, like the infield of a baseball game, with a crew keeping it nice between bulls.

The matadors and their assistants entered to a fanfare from the brass orchestra.  They marched across the ring and paid honor to the dignitaries under the Spanish flag. The horsemen then left and the matadors tested their capes. Then all fell silent as 3 banderilleros took their place around the ring near the outer circle. The trumpeters (separate from the band,) blare a fanfare and the gate opened. It was a few seconds before the first bull entered the ring, but enter he did – with a charge that made people gasp. More than half a ton of an angry fighting bull is an amazing sight up close. He was fast, powerful, and quick to turn. The three banderilleros tested the bull, using their capes, but not getting too close. Eventually, they went behind the wall and the matador went to the center of the ring. He made some nice passes, and the crowd showed its appreciation. Then, to music from the band, two picadores entered. One stayed near the gate, while the other circled toward the official’s side.  The bull was enticed closer to the horse, and when he saw it, he tried to gore it, but the horse was heavily padded. The picador jabbed the bull near the spine with his lance. The lance has a plate so it can’t go too far into the bull, but the object is to weaken the bull.  Once the picador had jabbed the bull twice, he left the ring. Then the banderilleros had their turn. Each had two banderillos for a total of 6 to place in the bull. It was the only time when the band played while action was taking place. There was much style and drama since they are one-on-one with the bull and no cape to distract the bull. They must reach high and get close enough to place the banderillos in the back of the bull while it is charging them.

Then it was the matador’s turn.  While the banderilleros distracted the bull, he offered his cap to someone in the audience, and prepared his cape. It was a smaller red cape, (as opposed to the pink and yellow capes used earlier,) and he used a sword to hold it wide. When ready, he advanced to the center and faced the bull. By this time, the bull had been jabbed twice with a pic and poked 6 times with banderillos, and had made numerous charges at everyone, so he was obviously more tired, but still had a lot of energy. The matador worked him closer and closer, making him turn tighter and tighter. The bull came within inches of the matador, but eventually he faced the matador head on, just feet away, stock still. The matador walked away and exchanged the sword for a different one, this one for killing. (I don’t know the difference. Perhaps Jerry can explain.) He went back to the center of the ring and made a few more passes, each getting closer and closer, while the bull’s head was dropping lower and lower. Finally, he faced the animal which had entered the ring less than 30 minutes before with such fury, with the cape near the bull’s nose, close to the ground, and the bull quiet. The matador tugged at the cape, the bull charged once more, and the matador raised up on his tiptoes and forced the sword into the bull’s back, up to the hilt. The bull staggered but stayed on his feet. The 3 banderilleros came close and waved their capes at the bull, keeping him contained until he dropped to his knees. One banderillero came close with a thick dagger, made a quick jab to the spine behind the head, and the bull was dead. There was applause for the matador while a team of three horses came in and crew hitched the bull to the team and they pulled the bull out of the ring. More crew cleaned the dirt.

This was repeated until 6 bulls had been killed. It wasn’t always the same. The 3^rd matador was tossed high by his bull, twice. He was gored near the groin so bad, he couldn’t fight his second bull, but was replaced by one of the other matadors. Another matador was tossed twice, too, while trying to kill his bull. He landed on his head, but went back to continue. Once, a matador poured water on his red cape, I imagine to make it heavier.  Several bulls were difficult to kill, because the matador couldn’t find the right spot to place the sword. One bull seemed lazy and reluctant to charge, but that made him more dangerous and he was one that gored a matador.

It was obvious that the matadors displayed great courage to face such animals, and some excellent skill with their capes to get the bulls to charge so close, yet avoid death. It was interesting to see the spectacle and know there must be so much tradition with every move and ritual. The stances and expressions were classic. One fight took place within 30’ of me, and to hear the bull snorting and grunting while twisting and trying to gore, while watching the matador’s eyes focused on the bull, well, it was intense. And when he had the bull stymied, he tossed the cape aside and went to his knees in front of the bull, as if to say, “go ahead, try to kill me.”

BTW, the camera battery went dead before the first picadors went to work. Dammit.