Cameras used film in those days and many of the pictures are long gone. This one, however surfaced this morning and captures me in a moment when I was still young and immortal. The bulls were only yearlings and the horns were blunted, but they could still knock a 200 pound fighter pilot on his butt without much effort.
The bad news was that these young bulls did this every weekend against a new crop of budding matadors. They had seen it all before. It was only on my third or fourth go around with another bull later that afternoon that I got up-ended.