According to the link, this is the second time he was gored by a bull this year. Maybe bullfighting isn’t his true calling in life.
I’m guessing he is the coddled son of some incredibly wealthy or well connected Spanish family. I don’t imagine Spain is that hard up for matadors that the stadium actually needed to call up the guy with fresh stitches in his leg from the last goring to dress up like a disco ball and ritually slaughter an animal for entertainment this week.
I don’t understand bullfighting as an attraction. Beyond the cruelty to the bull, who always dies, it’s the same schtick each time. It would be like going to a movie theater that only ever showed one movie for hundreds of years. Even Broadway switches up the plays every now and again.
To me, this "sport" is abhorrent and despicable. It's live torture and bleeding of a dumb animal for fools.
Before condemning bullfighting, read “Death in the Afternoon” by Ernest Hemingway.
I’m kind of neutral about the sport. It’s not part of my culture, so I don’t give it much thought.
Spanish fighting bulls are a breed apart, however. They’re bred for aggressiveness.
An ordinary farm bull that exhibited those traits would be sent to slaughter rather quickly.
Although I didn’t grow up on a farm, I spent several years editing an agricultural newspaper, during which I learned much more than I did in college.
Early on, a professor from our state ag school gave me a rookie tutorial on how to behave around cattle. Don’t turn your back on them, always have an exit, and don’t do anything that might startle them. The calmer you are around them, the better they’ll like you.
It was good advice. When I think of bulls, I think of an afternoon I spent with Cody the Polled Hereford bull and his owner. Cody was lord of the pasture, with his harem all around him, along with the adorable calves he had sired. Truly a gentle giant.
If you put Cody in that bullfighting ring, he’d use some sense and beat a retreat every time the matador waved his cape.