El Rafi’s wake-up call | Culture

The Rafi shouldered through the Consuls Gate.
The Rafi shouldered through the Consuls Gate.Torostv

Upon the death of the fifth bull, it was not easy to imagine that El Rafi, a young French bullfighter who took the alternative on the 6th in Arles, would go out on his shoulders through the Door of the Consuls in the square of Nimes. And it was not because the bullfight was a pestiño, heavy, leaden and forgettable until it came out on the sixth in the afternoon that, somehow, he wanted to save the honor of the badge with a mobility that his brothers lacked. It was the only bull that allowed cape bullfighting, and El Rafi, overflowing with enthusiasm and strength, took advantage of it to show off with a few brushstrokes a la veronica and chicuelinas, and, later, with a showy removal by belted zapopinas that excited his countrymen.

He toasted the public, who had clearly taken the side of his bullfighter, who stood out in the first two rounds with his right hand before an animal that came quickly and nobly to the crutch. Well planted, confident and solvent, he spun clean and showy crutches, fastened with chest lengths.

There, more or less, the muleterile work ended because the bull’s face changed, he looked tired, and only a circular and some flats kept the spirits of the Nimeños; Moments later, yes, the best thing came, and that is that El Rafi took a good backlash, and the president, also from Nime, without hesitation took out the two handkerchiefs in a gesture of excessive affection.

The truth is that the young bullfighter had a smile from ear to ear that he maintained until he reached the van after crossing the Puerta de los Cónsules on his shoulders.

The expeditious and mischievous attitude that he showed in that bull was lacking before his first, the animal difficult, and the bullfighter annoyed by gusts of wind. His task was long, very long, and very irregular, before an ugly style animal, which only allowed him to show his good disposition after confirming the alternative at the hands of Antonio Ferrera. Still he wandered an ear.

Neither the godfather nor Juan Ortega, who also took advantage of his debut in Nimes to confirm his status as a matador, had options with a run by Victoriano del Río, well presented, uneven on the horse, and overflowing with squalor in all thirds; of very short route, with the face at medium height, without mobility or caste.

The first of Ortega, a handsome and Astifino bull, the only brave one before the picador, refused to attack as soon as he saw the Sevillian with the crutch in his hand. She had pushed the horse briskly in two serious blows, and perhaps all her greed left her in the breastplate. The fifth did not improve either, and the bullfighter left France with a disgusted face.

And Ferreras only had options to smile while exchanging the junk with his sponsored ones, because, despite his attempts and the solemnity that he wanted to print on his bullfighting, nothing was possible. His lot, like Ortega’s, infumable from start to finish.

In short, there is no sixth bad, which allowed a new French bullfighter, El Rafi, to be already a hope for bullfighting. Better this way.

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