Posted tagged ‘El Cordobes poster’

Toreros good and bad

May 6, 2016

Back in the swinging seventies when package holidays abroad abounded my aunt bought me a special present from Spain. This was a poster of a bullfighter, El Cordobes. At the time I didn’t know that Senor Cordobes was the most famous matador in the world. My bullfighting knowledge was nada. This exotic gift rifled my imagination. Bullfighters, that is a cool gig.  The poster made it onto my wall, shoving itself between football and rock star poseurs.

The great “El Cordobes” still lives and is another fight. This time with a fellow bullfighter, his son. Manuel Diaz Gonzalez, the famous bullfighter who was born in Arganda El Rey (Madrid) in 1968, has won his 40-year-old battle to be recognized as the son of Manuel Benitez Perez, another torero who became famous in the 1960s and 1970s under the name of “El Cordobes”.  It was reading about the paternity suit that rekindled my memories of the poster.

The Cordovan on the wall wasn’t no Dorian Gray, like most posters it started to age. The edges began to curl and the corners were heavily pockmarked with tack holes. What’s the story with tacks? Do these guys deliberately tear paper? Isn’t their job to keep it in place not rip it to shreds? Of course, maybe they wanted to get revenge for the bulls by slicing Cordobes’ photograph. Eventually, almost massacred, it had to go. Having no bullfighting replacement a Debbie Harry masterpiece made an appearance on the bedroom wall. And I thought “Wow”. All thoughts of the bullring evaporated. This is what you call class.

Picture this scene, I chased that poster all over the four walls. Those infernal tacks were moving with the image; I knew they were alive. Snorting with fury, I attacked the tacks. The poster was always one step ahead. The spirit of the El Cordobes poster had permeated itself onto the Debbie Harry pose. I am positive it kept saying “ole” every time I narrowly missed it. As you might have guessed, like most hot blooded males, Blondie is a like a red rag to me.