Like any son of a famous matador who decides to follow in his father’s footsteps, there was enormous expectation surrounding Julio Aparicio hijo’s early years in the profession. And, by and large, he didn’t disappoint. His presentation with picadores at Gandía at the start of the 1987 temporada had seasoned watchers talking about ‘duende’ and comparing him to Rafael de Paula at his best. Behind the scenes, however, there was already the toing and froing with managers that was to dog his entire career. By the time I first saw him, at Nîmes in the Pentecost feria of 1989, he was already on his third management team. He came to the French feria as a special attraction, facing six novillos on his own, after cutting an ear on each of his appearances in Sevilla’s Feria de Abril.

It was a sunny day, but windy, the plaza half-full for the morning event. Julio was fortunate to win an ear from a minority petition after a faena de menos a más with the opening novillo. No further awards were made until the fifth animal, a torrestrella that made two strong entries to the picador. Aparicio, having done little with the capote, dedicated to the tribunes and produced wonderful series of muletazos before closing with a solid estocada; he won two ears, while the bull was given a vuelta. The novillero showed promise.

The next time I saw him, he was a matador de toros, having taken the alternativa in Sevilla on Easter Sunday 1990 at the hands of Curro Romero. I’d stayed on for Santander’s Corrida de Beneficencia - in those days, held some time after the city’s feria - featuring bulls of Manuel San Román for Roberto Domínguez, Victor Mendes and Aparicio.

Things went badly with Julio’s first, wide-horned, bull. After some impressive capework from the sevillano, the animal was severely picced so that, come the faena, the exhausted beast perpetually sought las tablas, and Aparicio’s petulant prodding of the animal to try to get it to do what he wanted did not go down well with the spectators. With his second animal, however, he produced a faena of sublime derechazos, the bull not allowing anything of note with the left hand, before killing with an estocada and descabello to win two ears and an exit through the Puerta Grande.

In Sevilla next Spring, Julio was one of the participants in an awful corrida of Montalvo and Araúz de Robles bulls that was characterised by weak-legged animals and poor killing. There was a huge bronca at the end, mainly aimed at Curro Romero and Aparicio. Curro was afforded police protection as he approached the plaza exit: Julio stopped at that point and, to his credit, stood and took the abuse before departing.

Just over a week later, at Sanlúcar de Barrameda, Julio had most of the crowd (including the Duquesa de Alba’s daughter, Eugenia) on his side as he gave muletazos to a suspiciously-horned Torrestrella bull. A strong estocada netted him the animal’s two ears, but I hadn’t liked his flashy “here I am, putting on a fight” approach.

In the summer of 1992, in Santander, Julio was unusually given two feria appearances. In both of them, he had ground to make up with the spectators after brusque faenas de aliño with his initial animals. Once a bull had cut in on him, he appeared to have had enough. His first redemptive performance was sufficient to net him an ear, but, on the second day, the crowd had had enough of the Sevillian, rejecting his attempt to dedicate his remaining bull to them and being generally unenthused by his efforts to repair relationships in the faena.

By now, it seemed the die was set - Aparicio performed irregularly and I never caught him on one of his strong days. Even his much-lauded faena on the day of his belated 1994 confirmación de alternativa in Madrid - described by Carlos Abella as “the most inspired performance by a torero I have seen in my life as an aficionado” - struck me as more of an unappealing demonstration of a man overcoming his fear.