Whoever resists, wins (Pepe Moral)

Pepe Moral arrived at La Maestranza determined not to throw in the towel. It was his first bullfight of the season after only wearing a bullfighting jacket in Spain last year. His future wasn't promising. But he rebelled against his fate, refused to die, took a gamble, and won. Time will tell if the two ears cut today will be rewarded with contracts, but at least he's resurrected and has said out loud that he wants to continue being a bullfighter.

They asked for a second ear on his second bull, and the president, wisely, declined, because it would have detracted from a highly commendable performance, in which, above all, dedication, commitment, and resilience mattered. And that's why he won.

His bulls weren't triumphant. The only one who truly gambled was the bullfighter; his performances lacked artistic depth because it was impossible. The bulls lacked strength, they let their faces go, they refused to obey the tricks... But before them was a man bursting with will, a warrior prepared to die, a bullfighter emboldened by his adverse circumstances. And he overcame the lackluster conditions of his lackluster lot in a remarkable way, stealing passes where none existed, even linking up seemingly impossible series, and from his two bulls he extracted much, much more than the little they had.

It's clear that the fear of being forgotten emboldens the spirit. Perhaps that's why Pepe Moral went out to fight for life, for his own, and defeated his dark destiny.

He received his two bulls on his knees in the middle, just as his companions did theirs. Six bulls, six long passes beyond the second line. An undoubted achievement in the face of an uncertain, always uncertain, Miura corrida. Uncertain, and also very tame (the second even jumped into the alley), very uncast, very soft and lackluster, and only the third offered any nobility in the final third.

There was Manuel Escribano , who didn't have a good time in his third appearance at the fair. Dedicated as always, but also bewildered, overwhelmed, tense, and lacking in ideas in the face of two extremely complicated and dangerous bulls. He placed banderillas on both with determination and little flair, and in both cases he found they lacked a pass. He also lacked a pass when it came to killing the first bull; a bullfighter of his proven skill can't stab up to eight times with a changed expression, and he needed another three and an ugly downward thrust to kill the fourth. These aren't the manners of a bullfighter. Neither bull was useful, but Escribano deserted too quickly.

And the best of the afternoon, the third, went to Esaú Fernández , as determined as he was dull. In bullfighting, willpower alone isn't enough, and this man's approach is banal and insubstantial. He bullfights with an excessively arched and unbalanced figure, so the final result falls far short of the necessary emotion. The sixth was less cooperative, but Esaú was the same.

At the end, Pepe Moral, moved, was carried out the main door (where the crews enter) on people's shoulders, and he lived up to the song's lyrics: "I will resist to keep living; I will endure the blows and never give up."