Some of my most emotional moments in bullrings have been while watching veteran toreros performing. In September 1983, I slipped away from Salamanca’s feria with the specific aim of seeing Manolo Vázquez’s despedida in Madrid. He and Antoñete had returned to the bullrings two years earlier to critical acclaim. In Vázquez’s case, his decision to come back at the age of 50 ended a 14-year period of his not donning a traje de luces. Manolo had first fought in public aged 15; he took the alternativa from his brother, Pepe Luis Vázquez, in Sevilla’s La Maestranza in 1951; and had retired in the same surroundings in 1968.

One of the reasons Vázquez’s and Antoñete’s comebacks were received so warmly was that they reintroduced two aspects of toreo that had fallen into disuse - in Vázquez’s case, toreo de frente, and in Antoñete’s, citing the animal to charge in from a long way away. I don’t recall any specific passes de frente from that Madrid afternoon: what I do recall is seeing a torero whose every pass was like a sip of the finest wine. It was also emotional seeing someone of that age toreando a bull of Madrid with precision, purity and honesty, even more so when his second faena came to a premature end after he was caught and winded by one of the bull’s horns.

It took me a long while to see Antoñete at his best. The first time I saw him, he was gored, and the second occasion - a stiflingly hot afternoon at El Puerto - the heat and effort were too much for an unfit veteran. But in 1997 at the Las Ventas benefit festival for El Soro, the then 64-year-old, looking unsteady on his legs, brought off some wonderful media verónicas before citing the novillo from a distance with the muleta and subsequently structuring a faena of fine derechazos, naturales and chest passes before killing al encuentro and earning an ear.

The culmination, however, came two years later in a corrida at Guadalajara. Now 67, looking very old and fat, with big bags under his eyes and breathing heavily through his mouth throughout his time in the arena, Antoñete, with his second bull, produced a faena that was almost entirely given with the left hand, taking the animal initially from a distance to then accomplish short series of exquisite naturales. It was extremely moving to see this old man toreando so cleanly and so well, the spectators roaring him on. The next day, the newspaper critics had a common theme for his performance - “el toreo eterno”.

At the time, I wondered if I’d ever see something similar again, and I had a comparable feeling of something being lost for ever (and tears in my eyes) at César Rincón’s final performance in France, at Nîmes in September 2007.

The great Colombian had had to call a halt to his career as a matador de toros in 1999 because of hepatitis C he’d picked up through a blood transfusion following a goring seven years earlier. It had seemed that this retirement would be final, but César returned to the bullrings in 2003, in his words “to enjoy my profession”. He fought far fewer corridas than before, but still achieved significant triumphs in Sevilla, Madrid and elsewhere. That Nîmes afternoon, his bulls were none too helpful, but he worked hard to get his defensive second animal to charge to the muleta, the 41-year-old matador standing his ground and passing his opponent closely before ending with a characteristically honest and successful swordthrust to earn an ear.

There were two younger toreros whose comebacks I enjoyed immensely too - Emilio Muñoz and José Miguel Arroyo Joselito.

I first saw Emilio Muñoz in 1980 and was delighted with his toreo from the word go. But he retired in 1986, aged just 24, worn down mentally by family pressures and the toll of several physical injuries, and spooked by the death of Paquirri. He came back four years later, the 28-year-old less troubled now and saying his family problems were behind him, and I made a point of going to Sevilla’s Feria de Abril to witness his successful return in his home plaza. I saw several more excellent performances from the trianero in subsequent years, a highlight being his departure through La Maestranza’s Puerta del Príncipe in Sevilla’s 1995 Feria de San Miguel.

Joselito had a poor temporada in 1998 and opted to retire after a disastrous encerrona at Sevilla, only to return two years later, aged 31, to continue toreando for a further four seasons. The madrileño’s comeback was interrupted by a nasty cogida at Nîmes in 2002, when he suffered a triple fracture of the femur that put him out for five months, but I was fortunate to see him achieve a number of puerta grande triumphs during those years, the greatest of which came at Aranda de Duero in 2001 - a faena of majestic series con temple, closed with a terrific sequence of naturales de frente, which the next day’s newspapers rightly proclaimed as a historic performance.

The latest comebacks

Given these experiences, why am I not enthused by the recent announcements of comebacks by Sebastián Castella and Manuel Jesús El Cid, together with the news that the empresario at Istres has made an offer to Enrique Ponce for him to put on a traje de luces once more?

Ponce has said recently, “I think my work is written […] There may be an epilogue, but that’s not something I’m contemplating at present.” To me, that captures a truth. Toreo has traditionally been a young man’s endeavour, something to be accomplished when the torero essentially believes he is invincible and prior to taking on any family commitments. In recent years, that has changed and it is not uncommon for matadors to have careers of 20 years or more. But once retired, one should only come back if there is the belief that the individual still has something important to demonstrate.

I find it hard to imagine that Sebastián Castella will add anything to what we’ve already seen from him. To me, he’s somewhat of a one-trick pony - a limited torero always seeking to impose the same faena on a bull. I recall one year when Nîmes’s Vendanges feria featured two encerronas, one with El Juli celebrating the 10th anniversary of his alternativa, and, the next day, the Frenchman taking on six bulls (in both cases, all the bulls were of Domecq lineage). The El Juli afternoon was a masterclass of domination and varied toreo, the madrileño deservedly cutting seven ears and a tail. The Castella afternoon, despite the five ears and a tail won - as it turned out, from seven bulls - was embarrassing, a torero unable to rise to the challenge of difficult bulls, someone who, in comparison with El Juli, was out of his depth.

I have seen Castella many times, but the only afternoon I was moved by his performance was at Albacete in 2009, when he drew a keen bull of Núñez del Cuvillo; made great play of standing his ground in the centre of the arena as he made the animal turn around him; then took the hard-charging animal from a variety of angles; and ended with some risky arrimón, Sebastián keeping calm and still despite the bull’s tendency to make small steps towards him before eventually coming forwards. He cut two deserved ears after a performance in which the bull had contributed as much as the torero (indeed, it was given a merited vuelta en arrastre afterwards). Castella won a further ear that afternoon after a clever, thinking, faena to the worst bull of the corrida. Now 39, Castella will be reappearing at a similar age to César Rincón when he returned to the bullrings. In contrast, I would be quite happy not to see another of his faenas.

At 48, El Cid’s comeback will be more akin to Antoñete’s in 1981, although the sevillano’s toreo can hardly be said to have been forgotten. His glory days were in the latter half of the first decade of this century. At the time he achieved figura status, he commented that he could now relax: a critic commented that maintaining that status was just as hard, perhaps harder, than achieving it, and indeed, in El Cid’s case, that status was short-lived. On most afternoons over the last decade, he was a coasting cartel-filler, which is why his return doesn’t fill me with enthusiasm either.

However, there are two aspects to Manuel Jesús that perhaps stand him in better stead than Sebastián Castella in terms of the likelihood of further resounding triumphs. First, there is the variety of bulls the sevillano has fought and particularly his fluency with albaserradas, which he is clearly happy to continue facing judging by the rumours that his management have been seeking a Madrid victorinada mano a mano with Emilio Justo. Second, El Cid’s style is centred on classic toreo, with a particular adeptness for naturales. So, whilst neither return rocks my boat, El Cid, for one, will be worth keeping an eye on to see if he can recapture, or even improve upon, his earlier glories.