Double Play

For a bull to kill a man with a sword is news almost anywhere, but when it happened last week at Corufia, with the greatest living bullfighter in the ring, Spanish editors stopped the presses.

Ever since he retired with a brutally torn thigh seven years ago, the return of the great Juan Belmonte to the arena has been a perennial spring rumor in Spain. Sports writers were always suspicious, knew that even before he was gored Belmonte had such weak legs that he was forced to invent a special technique that made him the darling of the 20 nations that are the Spanish-speaking world. Besides, was he not operating a vast and apparently thriving olive farm and brood ranch in Andalusia?

Nevertheless, when the trumpets brayed and the white-ruffled Alguaciles rode out to catch the keys to the arena in their plumed hats last month, it was great-jawed, ugly BELMONTE himself who led the parade with his embroidered cape twisted across his back and over his arm. For a long-retired veteran's comeback it had not been an unsuccessful season. All of his old courage, most of his old skill, were still on display. Because he always worked closer to the horns than other bullfighters, he had been tossed many times in a few weeks, but never seriously hurt.

At Corufia last week the great Belmonte stood with sword poised, feet together, to administer the estocado to a brave bull. Over the wicked horns his curving blade went, to miss by a hair's breadth the two-inch spot between the great shoulder blades. The bull stormed off, the sword waving like a reed from the hump of his back. With a mighty shake the bull tossed the weapon high into the air. It hurtled down, point first, to pierce the breast of one Candido Roig Roura, who at 4 o'clock that afternoon had been standing in line to buy a fifth row seat in the shade. With a scream Candido Roig Roura pulled the espada from his chest and hurled it away. It landed in the lap of a sports reporter busily writing at the barrier, cut both his legs to the bone. Before Candido Roig Roura died, the great Belmonte had taken another sword from his mozo de estoques and killed the bull, with infinite grace.

Several days later at Santander a crowd of black-bereted Basques rose gasping to their feet as the great Belmonte was tossed, gored in the thigh by another bull. He was not seriously hurt, was able to finish the fight. Less fortunate was another veteran of Belmonte's generation, Ignacio Sanchez Mejia. Also attempting a come back at Manzanares, he was so badly gored that despite operations and blood transfusions, he died.

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