1 Bull of Jose Julian Llaguno and 5 Bulls of Carranco for Alfredo Rios, “El Conde”, Jeronimo, Ignacio Garibay, Alejandro Amaya, Sergio Aguilar, and Arturo Macias “El Cejas”

By Mark Schwarz

Time was when the annual “Oreja de Oro” (Golden Ear) corrida was reason for smug anticipation. 6 of the temporada’s most successful matadors competed against each other for the benefit of their association’s fund to help less fortunate professionals weather tough times. One chance, one bull; spirited competition—if nothing else—was almost guaranteed.

Current iterations, however, have more in common with the All-Star games of major sports—stars politely refuse (can’t risk losing contracts) and has beens, never weres or never will bes are called to fill the holes. Whether any money gets to the association is a hazardous bet. None the less, a tradition worth reviving—but not like this.

The bulls of Carranco were apparently taken from the same cloth as the human contingent; one true bull (the fifth, assigned—probably not by coincidence—to the Spanish torero Aguilar) and 5 adolescents. Even allowing for the beneficial nature of the event, these animals left a lot to be desired in every way. More perfect examples of taurine critic Horacio Reiba’s “destoro” or “post-toro Mexicano” would be hard to find.

Alfredo Rios, “El Conde”, who did enjoy a good performance on July 14, offered a lighter version with a cute little animal that resembled a Disney toro; a couple of high-school juniors in a Ferdinand suit. A happy performance that ended with a happy estocada and a happy ear awarded. Cotton candy for the bull set.

Recently reappeared “torero de arte” Jeronimo offered interesting work with the capote to a difficult animal, and revealed himself to be more than a pretty face with the muleta. His hard nosed efforts garnered a well deserved ear after a serious, if merely serviceable, sword thrust.

Ignacio Garibay—one of the many infatuations of the Mexican aficion of the 90s—reprised some of the “greatest hits” of his once vaunted talent, but errant work with the sword precluded the possibility of any awards.

Alejandro Amaya, Tijuana’s talented whipping boy torero, offered the best work of the day—by a considerable margin. Excellent muletazos—especially on the left side, fully engaged the young, but brave, animal, who followed and returned with gusto and determination. Although the animal tired almost as quickly as the rest of the maddeningly weak-kneed encierro, Amaya’s skillful technique managed to make the most of what the brave “Pueblo Amigo” offered.

Unfortunately, his well deserved ear served only as a new opportunity for the locals to chastise his billionaire father, the enigmatic Jorge Hank Rhon, using Alejandro as a proxy. While it is probably the case that the Hank fortune and connections opened doors for Alejandro as a young matador, it is equally true that Amaya’s considerable potential has been unjustly limited by that same paternal connection and privilege—an unfortunate irony.

Sergio Aguilar, the Spaniard, was once one of the mother country’s brightest young novilleros—apprentice matadors. Inopportune accidents, poor management, flawed performances at crucial times and in crucial plazas, have left Aguilar as another member of “el monton”—the mountain of promising aspirants that have fallen by the wayside. His penance has been 4 or 5 yearly corridas duras–dates with large, intransigent bulls from ranches renowned and requested by a certain masochistic sector of the Spanish taurine public, in inconsequential pueblos…or Madrid. He is capable of excellent work, and in Tijuana we saw details of that capacity, especially in an opening series of veronicas that guided the bull from the fence to the middle of the ring with marvelous cadence and feeling. That promising start was brought back to earth as his bull—like the rest—took one pic and fizzled like a punctured balloon.

Several years removed from his days as boyishly handsome “carne de toro”, Arturo Macias is Mexico’s most convincing reincarnation of the eternal Eloy Cavazos, the beloved “Pequeno Gigante” of the 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s, and 00s… Returning to Tijuana after his three ear triumph in the manufactured “mano-a-mano” with Amaya on August 11, Macias wasted no time connecting with his new fans, and his place as the junior, and therefore, final, torero to perform, gave him an almost guaranteed triumph…which, to his credit, he did not squander. Although he is capable of more serious, profound toreo (he’s been an apt pupil under the tutelage of his new manager, the almost great Fermin Espinosa, “Armillita”), he—like Cavazos—is acutely sensitive to the mood of a given crowd and ALWAYS out to please it, first.

The inoffensive “Esmeralda” lasted no longer than his brothers, and was less convincing in the final act. Nothing at all for Macias, who hopped, skipped, knelt and mugged—combining just enough toreo to placate ring judge Carazo, to easily cut two ears from the swooning public. Matador’s Association president Antonio Urrutia (like Macias, a native of ubertaurine Aguascalientes) presented the “coveted” golden ear, and the afternoon came to a blissful close. Bull watchers are now holding their breath as they wait for the new date of Spanish master, “El Juli’s” make-up date…bulls in October?