Four years without a Victor Neighborhood: the torico he is still mourning

Angel Gonzalez AbadTeruel Updated: Save Send news by mail electrónicoTu name *

Your email *

email *

The “torico” looks these days of parties without party a black ribbon on his scarf at the neck. The turolenses want to remember those who are not, to those who have gone. But the popular “marina” has four years of mourning, from a young bullfighter was mortally wounded on the arena of your plaza de toros. The July 9, 2016, the city seethed at parties, just repeat the rite of placing the handkerchief to the popular figure that he presides from his column in the life of Teruel, the beginning of the festival of the Vaquilla del Ángel.

In an instant everything is turned off. It was like a hack, a stab that froze to the thousands of fans who witnessed the second run of the fair. is Victor Ward arrived with all its load of illusions, looking for a win that would allow him to climb a rung in their fight for glory. On the sand fell to the bullfighter, never rose the man. From that evening of a heat that froze the bodies, the bullring of teruel he is still mourning. Next to the large door, a plaque keeps alive the memory. is “The bullfighter Victor Barrio, which raised his soul to heaven.” Is the tribute perennial that the city has wanted to endure.

tragedy

Just spent a few minutes of eight o’clock and death came as a bolt of lightning cursed. Back was the hotel room where the 29 years old has ensured their latest weapons. Away his aspirations to be a bullfighter, his debut in a modest novillada in a village of Toledo, the victory in his presentation in Madrid, which opened so many hopes.

And the alternative in the very plaza de Las Ventas on a bright Sunday of the Resurrection, and the struggle, the search for contracts. The running of Teruel was the third of that season. Valdemorillo and Madrid, and the desire to prove that its value and its a good concept bullfighting should have a reward.

At twelve o’clock noon of the 9th of July, a little ball of paper, the target, joined by a bull of the cattle of Hands, “Lorenzo” of the name. Victor was picking a good site. A second, good luck, bad luck, fate. A beat, a gust of wind…. and on the floor… When the gangs tried to incorporate it to take him to the infirmary, her head hanging shook the plaza.

Was death.

“Teruel of crapes black, the whole of Spain you cry…”