A Tail in Pamplona: The Rejoneo at Its Finest

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This post was written on 7 July 2025 as a reflection on the prior night's horse-mounted bullfight.

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I've never been an ardent fan of horse-mounted bullfighting, called the rejoneo or corrida de rejones. There's something about the relatively even match of man and bull on the ground in the arena that appeals to me that the rejoneo lacks. The rejoneador (or rejoneadora) sat high atop their highly traine d horse performing with a bull whose horns have been shaved down for the horse's safety doesn't present the same potential for danger, miscalculation, or immediate consequences that matadors face; the team aspect of the corrida is nearly non-existent in the rejoneo; and rejoneadors take the showmanship to a new level compared to even the most self-promoting matadors. I wouldn't say I have disdain for the profession, but I certainly don't have a preference for it.

That is not to take away from the supreme displays of skill and horsemanship. The horses are some of the most highly trained performance horses in the world. Each is trained for a specific purpose, such as feinting during the tercio de banderillas, walking backwards during the paseíllo, running sideways for extended periods, or turning circles in front of a toro de lidia. The horses also have the natural fear of aggressive animals trained out of them, unlike the caballos de picar picadors use in the tercio de varas in a standard corrida. These horses, often bred by the rejoneador's themselves in personally-owned ranches, could easily go for millions on the open market if they were sold like American rodeo horses based solely on their bloodline and supreme training. Add in their performance history, and they become near-priceless.

The rejoneadors, too, are highly trained horsemen, able to control their mounts with slight changes in pressure at the thighs or on the reigns. Many can ride their horses at a full gallop in circles around a bull no-handed, with no bridle or bit, while leaning out of the saddle to place the banderillas. With every pass and movement, the rejoneador controls not only their horse but also the bull they face, which is no small feat for any wrangler up against an animal as temperamental and territorial as the toro de lidia. Where even regular riders would be thrown from the saddle during a fall or misstep from the horse, most rejoneadors maintain calm, poise, and control in the chaos, even with the threat of the bull's charge looming just a few meters away.

But if I wanted to see supreme displays of horsemanship, I would go to a rodeo, where the horse, not the bull, is the competitor. The mismatch in training and skill doesn't endear itself to me in the world of bullfighting.

Last night, though, I saw something I never thought I would see: a tail awarded in a first-class plaza in Pamplona, Spain. Guillermo Hermoso de Mendoza, a Navarrese rejoneador and the son of the recently-retired Pablo Hermoso de Mendoza, put on the best faena on horseback I have ever seen. From placing the banderillas to riding the horse with no hands to the final rejón de muerte, where the bull died in seconds, Guillermo Hermoso shone bright as a soon-to-be high-demand star in the world of the rejoneo. Many in the crowd were there to see Léa Vicens in her Pamplona debut, and they weren't disappointed by her performances, but not even her fans could get the president to award her an ear for her supreme horse-riding skill.

I have never seen anything like the protest for Guillermo Hermoso's tail. I rarely use the term "unanimous" when it comes to the crowd's demand, but it was clearly so last night. The first ear came quickly, a sign that the president was inclined to award the second, and the crowd continued to whistle, cheer, and wave their pañuelos for the second white handkerchief. No one sat or quieted when it came, and somewhere from the upper decks of tendido two came the beginning of the arena-wide chant: "Torero! Torero! Torero!" Pañuelos flew with the chant until the unbelievable happened: the president's third white handkerchief appeared beside the blue one. Guillermo Hermoso had been awarded the tail, and the bull, named Veleto, from the Carmen Lorenzo ranch, was awarded a slow, celebratory lap of the ring. Even in death, Veleto received a roaring standing ovation from some of the country's toughest aficionados. 

Guillermo Hermoso de Mendoza recives two ears and a tail from his final bull, Veleto, during San Fermín 2025.

What else stood out about last night? Léa Vicens, the first woman to perform during La Fiesta de San Fermín. Women are few in bullfighting, and breaking through the machismo from older aficionados, ganaderías, promoters, and even auxiliadores (the name for banderilleros in the rejoneo) is difficult for even the most strong-willed and persistent professional. Her horsemanship in her Pamplona debut was supreme, and that is no small compliment coming from me. I have seen her live many times (and on television many more still), and she had an amazing performance. Unfortunately, the rejón de muerte, the final killing strike, has always been her weakness, and she struggled with it on both of her bulls. In a third-class arena, she would have attempted to use another rejón de muerte, but at San Fermín, the rules are always strictly enforced.

Instead, she dismounted, retrieved her muleta, and moved in for the descaballo. Léa has always been uncomfortable on the ground, and the descaballo is her weakest skill. She is seemingly afraid of being charged, and it shows as she backs up before the blow lands. Last night was no exception. Fortunately, her descaballos were on point, killing the bull immediately. While not enough to earn her ears in Pamplona, her debut rejoneo at San Fermín was one of the best performances I had ever seen from her.

Unfortunately, the machismo dominated in the news, as nearly every outlet described her performance as a "poor showing." Only the local newspaper, the Diario de Navarra, was fair to her, giving her a seven out of ten. It was disappointing to read this morning over my morning coffee, as I am profoundly supportive of women in bullfighting. Léa Vicens, specifically, is a role model for young women across the country, and they come out in droves to see her compete in a world where men dominate in every aspect. The ovation she received as she walked out of the ring was resounding and well-deserved, regardless of what the online pundits, many who have never set foot in the ring themselves, have to say about her.

I was stunned walking away from the rejoneo. I had just seen the performance of a lifetime in a profession I didn't particularly care for, and I was ecstatic. My reservations about the mismatch in skill and training still held true, but the fantastic performance I witnessed overrode those emotions. With last night's performance, my view of the rejoneo has shifted. If every performance, regardless of plaza or rejoneador, were that good, I could easily overlook my objections to horse-mounted bullfighting. This rejoneo wasn't about the mismatch between man and bull. It was all about the horsemanship. I still prefer the classic corrida, but after last night, I won't summarily write off the rejoneo like I have in the past.