Bullfighting in Spain

By Sue Lavene

In the late 80s on two separate occasions, we witnessed two bullfights during our trips to Spain. Even though I would not go to see it again – because it was disturbing to me to see the bulls slowly tortured - I am glad to have seen this very Spanish tradition in action. It is a very controversial topic because of the nature of the game.

Both were held at the Plaza Monumental de Toros (La Plaza de Toros) in Madrid which receives some of the best matadors in Spain.

Starting in the late afternoon, tickets are purchased in the sun (sol) or shade (sombra) - the shady seats being the more expensive choice – or sol y sombra, which are those seats that start off in the sun and then become shady seats as the fight progresses.

Dating back to ancient days, its season from March/April to October, this popular sporting event continues to thrive despite its opponents.

Each fight is comprised of 3 stages after the initial procession and ceremony - with the paso doble (popular two-beat dance music) - of matadors and their teams.

The picadores, presenting on padded horses, attack the bull to weaken their neck muscles, then the banderilleros stick their banderillas (brightly adorned, barbed sticks) in the bull's shoulders in order to lower its head for the eventual kill by the matador. Lastly, the matador does his thing with cape to try to "cleanly" kill the bull.

The reward to the matador comes first from the audience who waves white handkerchiefs to signify that the matador performed well and ultimately from the president of the bullfight sitting high up in a box, who will reward the matador with an ear or tail.

Normally speaking, I am respectfully amused by differences in culture and allow people to be who they are without judgment; however, in this instance, with a sporting ritual that has a goal to kill bulls, personally I do not agree with it.

Take it from me, though, some Spanish are very proud of this long-standing tradition: During one particular fight, when the matador was being pursued by a feisty bull and for a moment, his life seemed on the line, I innocently - though out loud (my mistake!) - cheered for the bull.

Let's just say that the next several moments being sneered at by insulted spectators was quite uncomfortable, to say the least! If you are going to go see a bullfight – which I do recommend that you do – try not to make the same mistake as me and root for the bull (and get caught!).