David de Miranda's epic explosion shocks Málaga: Roca Rey goes naked

And David de Miranda turned La Malagueta into a volcano with an Ojedista explosion, a brutal, moving epic. A crushing triumph, with three ears taken with unwavering courage . His blow on Roca Rey's table made the afternoon difficult for the Peruvian star, treading on his own ground. So much so that he was unable to recover, leaving him naked. A review, as they used to say. From Victoriano del Río's strong, ugly, tall, and tough bullfight, fortune smiled on Manuel Escribano, who won two trophies—one and one—not enough, according to the new Andalusian Regulations, to accompany the Huelva titan on his shoulders.

At 7:31 p.m., the mules dragged Jaceno, all his excellence on their shoulders, amid the commotion of a bullring that was demanding a second ear—"Another, another!"—for Manuel Escribano, Cayetano's replacement. One ear was enough, and I'm not saying it was unnecessary due to willpower . There was practically nothing, with a multitude of physical qualities, worthy of a spiritual bull. He came out with a sloping stride, the incredibly slow rhythm descending through the chute of his prodigious neck, that's the way it was. Not only did he place his face, but he also opened up in his flights. What Escribano lacked in his performance, precisely, were flights. A multitude of strenuous passes tracing peripheral orbits. The culmination of the manolas and a rearward, falling sword thrust. One ear, "Another, another!" and the clandestine dragging of Jaceno, the bull of the afternoon. By build and depth.

The Roca Rey bull moved in the opposite direction, quickly showing his affections, brimming with temperament. A tame, relentless bull. RR stood up and swallowed the bullfight, which he mistakenly opened with statuesque words: the arena gates were open, a mess without control, and an "ouch!" chained to the bull. When he really controlled it on his right, the little bastard protested , and, feeling empowered, backed off and went where he always wanted to, to the pens. A close encounter—inverted circular movements—and an effort. At 7:59 p.m., he received an ovation after the sword thrust.

David de Miranda delivered a thrilling epic with a bull as tall as a horse, impossible to humiliate, an ugly, armored mule to which he offered his thighs and chest. So much so, that at times it seemed he was about to give it a go with his bow tie. It traveled oblivious to the devotion for the stick, casting the vapor of his breath on the silver braid of his white dress. He obeyed in the final instant of each thrust. The scene with the horns in his chest recalled Paco Ojeda leaning over the balcony, into the abyss. It was a claustrophobic performance of nullified spaces, a statue of valor. Suffocating manoletinas and a forward thrust that erupted in the ring. The clamor was like an eruption. At 8:25 p.m., the boxers waved both handkerchiefs at once, to the truth standing out. This Miranda of 2025, already a winner in Seville, is demanding a place with epic success.

At 8:40 p.m., Manuel Escribano went to the portagayola again, and once again placed banderillas powerfully, and once again he dealt with a good bull, but not as good. It was also very tall—like the third— but with the stability and intention to do well. Noble, without the excellence of the previous bull in his group. Escribano fought it and killed it convincingly. And so he cut another ear.

If the afternoon was going with a biblical delay, the hasty return of the fifth bull added up its minutes to exceed three hours. The substitute bull from Toros de Cortés—five years old, like the first, second, and fifth—was a beast, a bull from Bilbao. An inexplicable goal for Roca Rey's team —what a management team in 2025, he's also lacking in that right now—the star figure. A vital figure for bullfighting needs to reinvent himself. The icing on the cake for Victoriano del Río's high-flying corrida. He lacked dedication, class, and rhythm, although at times he was a mirage on the left. Lie. RR wanted it with more determination than freshness. But the fact is, he didn't cross the red lines . David de Miranda crossed those. The Peruvian got stuck—after two disarms—also with the sword. Until the two warnings.

Finally, David de Miranda , with everything already won, risked his life on the mat again. He pulled off a terrifying somersault and secured a third ear with a bull as serious on the inside as on the outside, exiting through the main gate at 10:15 p.m., with all his glory and integrity in tow.