NARRATIVE OF A BULLFIGHT IN MONTERREY MEXICO.

---Look at him...that's the lad...he could have been a great matador...he could have been a star...
and watch what he turned into....he shaved his head...he rants that he is some sort of buddhist
monk...he's just a nut ,a madman....look at him wearing his dark sunshades so we can't see his eyes...that's what drugs will do to you...he's done...he's finished....---
And Fernando Sepúlveda,the man they spoke about ,was close enough to hear all this said,and yet more similar comments all around him,and he just sat there in the bleachers with the rest of the audience,and took it all in calm,deep demeanor as if oblivious to this gossip.
And all this small talk kept buzzing all around him.He ,Fernando Sepúlveda,doctor in tauromachy,and matador of bulls and brave cattle,as his title read.But people changed their focus of attention once they let out the first bull into the arena,it was a beautiful animal,a large one ton Miura,a brave breed that stems back from the night of the centuries,golden brown and strong legged and high horned,he charged forward towards the bullfighters'cape but the bullfighter ,just,a boy, a skinny teenager,would turn pale with fear,and shoo the bull away from him with the reddish cloth,totally devoid of grace,not once standing his ground like he was supposed to.And Fernando could see the fear in the boy's face and he could understand it.Few
things look as serious as a Miura bull coming at you.His hoofs stomp the ground and you can feel
the tremor under your feet,and you must gracefully swing the cape with both hands keeping the
horns close to your body,and slow down the tempo of the pass as much as you can,while your
bullfighter slippers stand on the ground and your body poses still ,delivering all the beautiful bravery of the dance with death,which is the way you are expected to earn your living in the bullring.Yes of course there is fear,but that is also why you go into prayer after the dressing ceremony,you pray to master your fear and give a good show.Obviously the boy was not accomplishing that ,the bull kept charging nobly and vigourosly,and the kid would escape each charge in a desperate way.This young one in particular he remembered seeing at the park where all the begginers train and do exercise and practice by one holding a set of horns and pretending to be the bull,while the other one would train with the cape or the muleta,which is a rag mounted
on a wooden stick designed to run the bull through in front of you and around you with either your left or your right hand,And sometimes matadors run those passes while kneeling,risking to get what is called a mirror gore,named like that because if you survive it you will always remember it when you look in the mirror,by the scar that will mark you until your final day.
And one of this kids in the park had asked Fernando:---Hey matador,why don't you come with us one of these early mornings to go running?---
And Fernando would reply with a question,:---Why would I need to run if I'm gonna stand still?---
And this answer would elicit nervous laughter from the pack of young ones.
Now,at this point in the bullfight, the spectators were fiercely booing the kid,and Fernando could notice that the
boy was short of air and close to getting gored,and this highly criticized burnt out matador was the only one that could save the moment for the youth who happened to be a step away from the hospital or from the grave at that present crossroad.So he swiftly sprang up from his seat and removed his raincoat,to reveal himself completly naked,to the surprise and shock of the fellow spectators,inside the raincoat,he had been hiding a sword wrapped in a muleta,and with athletic grace in two leaps he was already inside the ring calling the bull with his voice and his large red rag with the sword hiding behind it as to present the muleta shaking it at the animal's face and crying:---Toro....toro....here pretty one...here!...---
The bull understood the moment of destiny and charged with all it's might and Fernando executed a right hand pass flexing his muscular body like a statue,causing everyone's voice to unite in a loud OLE!...and on and on ,pass after pass:OLE!...OLE!...each ole getting louder and everyone present was on their feet,sensing the privilege of being allowed to witness a moment
of art,that no aficionados ever before them had seen,everything was ticking like it should in the
scarce moments of glory that the brave and savage feast can give by having the comunion of the bull ,the matador and the audience trapped in a unique eternal trance.In a moment of pause,when the cheering was at a pandemonium,Fernando threw away the muleta and held his sword up high above and called---Toro!....---
It was the moment of truth as they call the time for the kill...everyone in total silence,forming part of an ancient ritual.The bull charged with all it's might to destroy his master,and Fernando standing like a marble statue in his killing stance softly angled the sword downwards and inches
from the beast he met the bull's brio with his pouring of the killing weapon on the flesh,and the
bull brusquely stopped in fron of him profusely bleeding through the mouth,The stark naked matador knelt in front of the bull's face and raised his arms and looked up and thanked
the heavens.
He was arrested as it happens to anyone that jumps in the ring and takes over the bullfight,but everyone went to the police station to pay his fine and was carried on shoulders all over downtown Monterrey.
THE END. and for the true aficionados that understand that a matador,to get to live ten minutes like that spends many months in hospitals recovering from
gores,or yet more unfortunately,as many toreros to wind up as a permanent cripple or a corpse.
Next the spanish version.