Rafael Torres, a minor artist from Seville with a reputation as a figure

Rafael is 77 years old, and he wears it like a kid; as they say in bullfighting slang, he's ready to make his debut. He was born in the Seville neighborhood of Puerta Osario, worked as a child in a tapestry shop, and his teacher, a keen aficionado, injected him with bullfighting poison. Close to the family of Pepe Luis and Manolo Vázquez, he dressed in the suit of lights against his father's wishes and was carried out on shoulders through the Puerta del Príncipe on the day of his debut with horses. He had a truly magnificent alternative and confirmation; he was a matador for 12 years (33 paseíllos as such in La Maestranza), 20 as a banderillero with the leading figures, and is the professional who has performed the most times—140—in the Seville bullring throughout his career.

He said goodbye to the bullring in 2002, and since then, he has enjoyed the respect and high regard of the "bullfighter of Seville," even though he never achieved glory in the gold medal. So much so that on April 28th, the city council named a roundabout near his birthplace after him: Rafael Torres. And the Andalusian Regional Government has just appointed him artistic advisor to one of the presidential teams of La Maestranza, replacing the late Alfonso Ordóñez.

He's not shy about acknowledging his true identity in bullfighting; he gives off an image of an honest and endearing person, with the appearance and manners of a good person , and the appearance of a bullfighter that can be seen in the distance.

"I spent all my time trying to become a figure, and I didn't achieve it. That's the truth."

"I was a matador and I dedicated all my time to achieving the status of a leading figure, but I didn't achieve it. That's the truth. I consider myself a bullfighter, but to touch glory, you have to possess qualities that, perhaps, I lacked," he admits without a hint of bitterness.

“The sword was my cross; I still have several bulls in my head that I didn't kill and that would have saved my career,” he continues. “I failed at crucial moments and couldn't take off.”

Despite this, Rafael Torres is considered a member of the "Sevilla school," of which Pepe Luis and Curro are key figures. "That's a matter of the people..." the bullfighter comments. "I tried to bullfight in my own way, the way I felt, and I wasn't sensationalist. I might have been better or worse, but I never ran away or jumped headfirst into an alley."

Question : What would you do when the City Council named a square after you?

Answer : That must be because there are people who thought it was appropriate, but I don't know who made that suggestion. It was the last thing I could have imagined. The streets are given to bullfighting greats, and I've only been a modest bullfighter. Maybe I've done some pretty good bullfighting, yes, but that's it...

Managed by Manolo Vázquez, he made his debut with horses on October 6, 1968 at La Maestranza, dazzled the stands, and left through the Puerta del Príncipe.

This triumph heralded a brilliant and successful career. Thus, on Easter Sunday, March 29, 1970, he received his alternative in Seville with Curro Romero as his sponsor and Riverita as his witness; and two months later, on May 23, he confirmed it in Las Ventas at the hands of Diego Puerta and in the presence of Manuel Benítez El Cordobés.

“Two luxury posters, yes. I remember dressing up at the Hotel Alfonso XIII on the evening of the alternative. What class!”

“The first years as a matador were very successful, with all the big names on the bill, and at the 1975 Feria de Abril I was awarded the prize for best bullfight,” Torres continues. “But everything fizzled out when I started failing at the suerte suprema, and I lost out on triumphs that would have been very important. I don't blame anyone but myself.”

Little by little, his dream of becoming a bullfighting icon faded, and in 1982 he became a subaltern; the bullfighter himself admits it wasn't an easy decision.

“I didn't want to be a banderillero,” he says. “I didn't like picking bouquets of flowers from the arena to give to the matador; I dreamed of becoming a bullfighting icon, and I fell down the ranks out of necessity. And, above all, I had never placed banderillas, and my legs trembled just thinking about it.”

His first team was led by Manolo Vázquez; later, he bullfought under the orders of Luis Francisco Esplá, Paquirri, Curro Romero—with whom he spent nine years—Víctor Mendes, José Antonio Campuzano, José María Manzanares, and Fernando Cepeda, among others.

Rafael Torres was bullfighting with Paquirri on the afternoon of Pozoblanco, and the tragedy of the matador was joined by the drama of the strike for his subordinate.

"When a tragedy like this happens, some bullfighters don't want you in their ranks for fear of being a jinx," Torres says. "I heard Rivera Ordóñez himself say that he would never hire a member of his father's team," he adds.

"But I needed to fight bulls, and I was willing to work at whatever I could find because I had just bought a villa and I still had five instalments of 1,200,000 pesetas left to pay; and I've always been embarrassed to call someone to ask for something."

But fortune would have it that Curro Romero's then sword boy, Antonio Torres, met him at a meal and proposed that he fight with El Faraón.

"What if I want to work with Curro?" I replied. "But I don't have anything, and besides, going with the maestro guaranteed good posters, the best bullfights, and being able to stop the bulls, which is what I liked."

Rafael Torres was able to pay for the chalet, he achieved the financial stability that the upper echelons of the profession didn't guarantee, and his prestige as a bullfighting artist wasn't affected.

On October 12, 2002, at La Maestranza, in Dávila Miura's team, and to the sounds of the marching band, he placed his last pair of banderillas as an active bullfighter.

The Seville City Council has named a small square after him. "Streets are named after figures, and I have only been a modest bullfighter."

“But what I wanted as a kid was to be a soccer player, and it was the master upholsterer who got me into bullfighting,” Rafael Torres recalls. “I must have seen the movie 'Learning to Die' two million times, and it always makes me cry. I did the same thing as El Cordobés, except steal chickens. I went to Madrid to seek my fortune, and I was there for four months; I slept on the streets, trained at the Casa de Campo, and unloaded trucks of fruit in Legazpi to eat; the only thing I managed to do was break my arm playing soccer before I could return to Seville.”

And in his city, with the help of Pepe Luis and Manolo Vázquez, his bullfighting story began.

Q. And what do you do now?

A. I walk, I train, I get invited to bullfights and I just watch, and only if the heifer is small and good do I dare to give four passes. I'm not a professional bullfighter, because I don't like to ask for anything. I've helped some kids, but I haven't had the strength to take over anyone.

Q. And do you still miss not having been a figure?

A. I admit I've had some very sad days because of it, but I was and am a happy person. I've been lucky, my colleagues have respected me, I have good friends, and a wonderful family.