There is an added dimension when a torero must face a bull with a need to triumph, as opposed to a desire, in his mind. In the old days (I am thinking of the period up to and including the 1960s), when a matador’s career usually consisted of just a few years, his ability to earn good money similarly limited, that need was ever-present. With the advances in horn wound treatment and the lack of mainstream media coverage of bullfighting, that situation no longer exists for many of the top toreros. The empresas rely on old, familiar, names to sell tickets; the numbers of corridas in a season have reduced too; and a leading bullfighter’s career can now last for a quarter of a century.

But first you have to become a leading bullfighter, and that is where the need to triumph kicks in (even in times such as these, when the empresas plot their temporadas long in advance and success in Madrid or Sevilla is no longer the gateway to increased contract numbers in the months ahead). We saw it yesterday with Fernando Adrián and we saw it again today with Tomás Rufo.

The local newspaper, introducing today’s ganadería of El Pilar, commented that it wasn’t living in its “best moment”. On the strength of today’s showing, it needs someone urgently to help it understand why the hierro’s bulls are so weak on their legs. This was like a 1970s’ horror-show, when bulls were frequently falling in the plaza.

Worst affected was José Mari Manzanares, who found himself with two animals that could barely stay on their feet in their faenas. With his first, he tried to construct a faena that involved passing the bull at mid-height, but the animal collapsed nevertheless. Finding his second animal to be similarly afflicted, a disgusted José Mari cut short his faena for a kill running round the horns. There was some chanting of “Fuera!” at the end of this lidia, but it wasn’t clear who this was aimed at – unfairly if at Manzanares, more understandable if the target was the president for keeping the animal in (although the crowd had not demanded its removal), or the ganadería, or the empresa, Lances de Futuro, for signing up these bulls in the first place.

Alejandro Talavante’s first bull, whilst impressive in la vara, was of similar condition (although one report reckons the animal injured a leg during its lidia). The extremeño offered verónicas to start with and a nice quite of gaoneras, with idiosyncratic flourishes at beginning and end. The bull’s weakness, however, meant that the faena involved one single pass after another. The crowd got excited during a pass where Talavante clung on to the bull as it turned, and the band finally struck up after a series in which Alejandro shouted at the animal to bring it forward, but it was all pretty meaningless. Come the kill, the matador withdrew a badly placed sword and then killed with a bajonazo anyway to silence, while the bull was taken out to pitos.

Things improved with his second El Pilar, a stronger animal. Alejandro met it with verónicas and a revolera, but wisely opted against performing a quite in favour of saving the bull for the faena, his second dedicated to the public. This time, the bull permitted linked passes, and, while concentrating mainly on the left hand and being despacio throughout, Talavante showed his customary creativity, with faroles, molinetes, an arrucina and suchlike accompanying the series of naturales and derechazos. It was unfortunate that a pinchazo and another low sword denied Alejandro an ear despite a sizable petition.

Tomás Rufo had the good fortune of drawing the two best bulls of the string, but his attitude too showed that he was not about to let the day go by. In both instances, he forbore from quites in order to preserve the animals for their faenas, although he met his first bull with graceful feet-together verónicas and his second with a larga cambiada de rodillas. With the muleta in his hand for the first, he showed that he is the modern maestro of cargando la suerte – some passes were short, others long, but all of them involved curving the bull’s trajectory, on one occasion more than 360 degrees. Tomás also knows that, to get the crowd behind you, you need an impressive start to a faena, so this one was begun with linked passes from on his knees in the ring’s centre. Excellent series of standing derechazos and naturales followed, with some fine, curving chest passes, the only error an attempt at a farol when he was too close to the bull. An estocada caída delivered an oreja.

With his second bull, strong in the horse, there was more showmanship, more communication with the crowd (where young females were now shouting “Guapo!”) – a display of a machista determination to get the best over this animal. After beckoning the bull towards him, he began with some muletazos on one spot, including one por al espalda, then followed on with series of naturales and derechazos, curving the bull round him once more. When it came to the kill, Tomás, with that youthful belief that all will turn out well, threw himself over the horns, driving the sword in to the hilt, but was caught and thrown. Things looked bad for a short while, but after being helped to his feet and checked over, Tomás emerged from the group of helpers in time to see his bull keel over. With their emotions stirred by this finale, the crowd successfully persuaded the president to award two ears. An exit through the Puerta Grande was assured.