Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a banderillero in Novellara is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.
First off, I grab my gear. You know, the usual: banderillas, my lucky hat, and a whole lotta caffeine. I hit the streets of Novellara, and lemme tell ya, these streets are something else. Via Roma is buzzing, people everywhere, and I’m dodging tourists like I’m in some kinda video game.
I swing by the Piazza della Libertà. It’s packed! There’s this old dude selling gelato, and I swear, his mustache is more impressive than mine. I’m like, “Bro, how do you even eat gelato with that thing?” He just laughs, and I’m thinking, “Man, I need that kind of confidence.”
So, I finally get to the arena. The vibe is electric. Fans are hyped, waving flags, and I’m feeling it too. But then, bam! My buddy Marco trips over a stray dog. I mean, c’mon! The dog just looks at him like, “Really, dude?” I can’t help but laugh. Marco’s face is priceless.
Then, the moment arrives. The bull comes out, and it’s a beast! I’m pumped, adrenaline’s pumping, and I’m ready to do my thing. But then, outta nowhere, the bull charges right at me! I’m like, “Whoa, not today, buddy!” I dodge just in time, and the crowd goes wild. I’m feeling like a rockstar, but also like I just dodged a freight train.
After the first round, I’m on a high. But then, I see this guy in the crowd. He’s yelling at me, “You call that a banderilla?!” I’m like, “Dude, chill! I’m not Picasso!” But inside, I’m fuming. Who does he think he is? I mean, I’m out here risking my life, and he’s critiquing my art?
Anyway, I shake it off. The next round comes, and I’m ready. I nail it! The crowd’s cheering, and I’m feeling like a king. I even spot a cute girl in the front row. She’s smiling at me, and I’m thinking, “Maybe I should start a fan club.”
But then, disaster strikes. My banderilla gets stuck in the bull’s back. I’m like, “Oh no, not again!” The bull starts bucking, and I’m just trying to keep my cool. I’m sweating bullets, and the crowd’s gasping. I finally manage to get it out, and the relief is unreal.
After the show, I’m exhausted but happy. I stroll down Via Garibaldi, grabbing a slice of pizza. It’s the best pizza I’ve ever had. I’m sitting there, thinking about the day. The highs, the lows, the crazy moments. Novellara, man, it’s got my heart.
As I head home, I can’t help but smile. This city, these streets, they’re wild. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Just another day in the life of a banderillero, right?