Curro Romero has certainly been one of the most important matadors of the second half of the 20th century and is probably the most-mentioned torero in ‘Toros & Toreros’ not given an entry of his own. Why is that? It’s because I never saw a wonderful afternoon from him and I have based the book on those toreros that have moved me and the ganaderías that have most impressed me.

For me, Curro generally meant a series of disastrous afternoons. Many ‘artistas’ (like Rafael de Paula or Morante) could generally show some decent capework even if their faenas were disappointing, but Curro often couldn’t even manage that. Instead, once he had struggled to achieve anything with the capote, much of the lidia would be left to his peones and the faenas would be brief and hopeless. I found the crowd’s generosity whenever the sevillano would manage something half-decent annoying, and didn’t experience the joy that some spectators appeared to feel whenever things ended to a huge bronca, cushions, toilet rolls, police protection and all.

However, there were a couple of afternoons that were out of the depressingly ordinary.

The first of these was at Sevilla’s La Maestranza during the 1995 Feria de San Miguel. Curro headed the cartel, facing Torrealta bulls alongside Emilio Muñoz and Jesulín de Ubrique. There was no capework of note to Romero’s first bull, subjected to two heavy puyazos en varas, until Emilio Muñoz’s turn to quitar. Curro then embarked on a very long faena that I felt never really took off until he killed with a decent estocada - a rare event that prompted a minority petition. With his second animal, Curro made more effort with the capote, until the bull slipped coming into a lance and the matador (who’d been limping a bit all afternoon) strained his right leg moving out of the animal’s way.

The bull was sent back to the corrales after two varas and was replaced by a Gavira sobrero. Again, there was no attempt at serious capework and the bull was subjected to two punishing varas. With the muleta in his right hand, Curro tried hard to produce a faena, managing some good passes, particularly beside the barrera, but ending with an awful sword. A generous home crowd allowed the veteran to take a vuelta, hats flying into the ring, and Curro returned to the callejón carrying rosemary and looking as pleased as Punch. As it turned out, his best work was still to come - a quite of verónicas in the centre of the ring to the last bull of the day, Curro standing still but having to rapidly adjust after each one to avoid getting into trouble and earning an ovation. Unfortunately, it was too dark by now for photographs.

The second event was the last time I saw Curro in action and the only time I saw him cut an ear. This was at Guadalajara four years later, Curro facing two juanpedros. His first lidia was sadly typical - little capework and one seemingly accidental good derechazo in the faena before Curro asked El Algabeño to cape the bull to the tablas, where the matador delivered two pinchazos and an estocada, each time running past the bull to escape to a nearby burladero.

The peñas, who had accompanied the faena with ironic olés, whistled Romero’s performance and their critical outlook didn’t change when Curro failed to keep still caping his second bull and then ran from it in a quite. Things improved, however, with the faena, albeit conducted entirely on the right hand, Curro producing some fine derechazos and remates. A half-sword was sufficient to down the bull, the president granted an ear after a borderline petition and once again we had a grinning matador taking a vuelta, with sprigs of rosemary hurtling into the ring, the peñas now bowing low to him.

So those were my best experiences of Curro Romero in the plaza. Perhaps the best memory of all, however, came in Olivenza some years after the matador’s retirement and the morning after the feria there ended, when a shopkeeper, standing in the shop’s doorway, called out a customer or assistant simply to watch the maestro walking away from them down the street.