Apotheotic tribute to a legendary breeder: Borja Jiménez and Victorino Martín carry the excellent Milhijas horse on their shoulders at Las Ventas.

At 9:09 p.m., the two handkerchiefs appeared in the Las Ventas box to present Borja Jiménez with a spectacular Puerta Grande ceremony; a minute later, the blue handkerchief awarded Milhijas a lap of the ring, a dream Victorino, to put the finishing touch to the bullfight in memoriam to the unforgettable Galapagar breeder, Don Victorino Martín Andrés. The occasion and the emotional finale ended with Victorino Jr. also carried on the shoulders of his father, like his father in 1976, 1982, and 1984. And so, BJ and VM crossed the archway of glory on Calle de Alcalá. That flood of people brought to mind not only old Victorino, but also Victoriano del Río, who at this fair has thrown four consecrated bulls , with only one consummation, and in that way— Alejandro Talavante on the first afternoon of the fair —and no prizes for either the unattainable Frenoso, or Misterio, or Alabardero, or Bocinero. But there is more people and legend in Victorino than in Victoriano. And the people, in the end, yesterday as today, imbued with the same suggestion of '76 and '82, are the ones who rule.

The Espartinas bullfighter's performance at its best with Milhijas featured an immediate connection with a first series of natural passes that electrified the stands. And from that moment on—even though the bull was very closed in on the boards—he understood the situation very well, bullfighting on his parallel lines (this breed is what suits him best), until he delivered a final natural pass, again in the curvature with which he opened the performance: sensational. That same intensity was unleashed in the genuflecting finish. When the dreaded moment of the kill arrived, Borja Jiménez gave his all to land a long but sufficient thrust. The slow death of the excellent Milhijas, with his manner of lowering his head, repetition, and such quality, provided everything else. The two whites and the blue. It was the third Puerta Grande of Borja Jiménez's career. The number and name of the bull will remain united: Milhijas.

Victorino Lázaro's bullfight was tremendous, demanding, and tough, not at all triumphant, but with a cherry on top that was the sublimation of bravery: Milhijas. And I was thinking of you, Fernando, for you have brought down a handful of bulls far more terrible than this one, with different irons in different places on your body. And so it went for 30 years of lymphomas and cancers . I've never met a man in my life with such a wholesome spirit , so unyielding in spirit, so unwavering in smiles in the face of adversity. The integrity of a journalist has already been written about in an unsurpassable way, that's why I'm writing about the integrity of man in the face of illness, about that unyielding solidity I so admired. We share the memory of chemotherapy, the vague marrow, and the old codes of Spain. As you know, therefore, death is not the end. Or, as Father Martín Descalzo wrote, dying also ends.

The corrida in memoriam of Victorino Martín, I told you, for his anniversary presentation in Madrid—although in truth, his solo performance was in 1968—jumped strongly, in the old house line, assaulted, the faces of a mule, a full five-year-old bull. It was frightening. What is normal today, the five-year-old bull, was exceptional in the 1960s. From the utrero to the five-year-old, that jump sold Victorino precisely in the year that the figure, the mandatory four-year-old, was approved by law. From then on, Victorino's history was inseparable from Madrid, the bullring where he built his legend: Las Ventas was adorned this Sunday with portraits of the breeder, the crowned A brand, the red and blue emblem. A setting conducive to the climax. A minute of silence opened the afternoon.

At 8:44 p.m., Emilio de Justo delivered a formidable, textbook, biblical sword thrust. He fulfilled the old maxim, Fernando, that sword thrusts like that alone were worth an ear. That tipped the balance of a performance that wasn't truly a performance in itself and that went through different phases of a bull— Milhebras, another of the Mil family who came to add to the mix— with a totemic head, a veleto, almost a cornipaso, who also performed in different registers. At his best, he performed naturally, while the performance was still early. Afterward, he fell asleep or didn't give his all, selling his way dearly to an honest and greedy bullfighter.

Ureña faced a noble bull with limited drive and power, but with a longer left horn. He would ultimately gain a high rating. The Lorca native didn't go for that approach until the fourth series, when he also unified his rhythm and handling in those two natural passes, the most notable. He changed his horn again (?) before closing, genuflecting with a good left-handed flourish. A perpendicular half-pass and a drop, greetings from the third. On his left, he again found the vein of the next performance against a fourth bull that, with its height, greatly improved his build: a horse. And he moved like a mulote, his humility as limited as his commitment and transmission. Paco Ureña passed him, trying to give him what he was missing. With the sword, he repeated the move exactly (plus a descabello).

Emilio de Justo found a certain Sarduño a little difficult, his points as sharp as his temper. He moved with violent jerks, his face free, without the humiliation of his own. I always saw him from the inside, from Borja Jiménez's cape pass. He also suffered with his own bull, aggravated by the fact that the Victorino bull showed less of his intricacies, even though he had them. BJ fought, heeding Guerra's orders, whether the horn went over, whether the touch was down. The dark-colored bull with the crowned A was also not very grateful. Unlike EdJ, he killed him with a vicious slash. Fortunately, he corrected that with Milhijas. And everyone, bullfighter and rancher, carried Milhijas's excellence on their shoulders.