Just what Spain needed (on the eve of an election campaign, with those of Vox releasing a daily joke and with the barracks patriotism growing at times) was a letter from the president of Mexico demanding apologies for Hernán Cortés, which they do not remember even in their town. In Medellin they prefer to commemorate the Roman past rather than the conqueror. Until Aznar has left his crypt to tell Abascal to say to the face of the right coward, if you have what you have to have. Thank you, López Obrador, for raising the volume of the row, in case there was a deaf person who was not finding out.
It remains the hope that the legionary cockiness that dominates the landscape is more imposed than felt: the football team could hardly endorse two anemic goals to that Malta of the annals of 12-1, and maybe that's why the match only interested 4,798,000 viewers, which is great (it's 26.5%, they would like the most watched programs to get closer to that audience), but, well looked at, it means 10% of the Spanish population. What did the remaining 90% do? A not inconsiderable part, make jokes and comments on the letter of López Obrador. The others, to dedicate themselves to other things little or nothing patriotic, like ironing, reading Tolstoy, traveling by bus or seeing chapters of Friends. With so little adhesion and so little belligerence of the players in front of a country that the national mythology forces to crush, the red and gualdas bravado that fills everything may remain in mere eructations and imprecations of bad taste without political effects.
More testosterone was perceived in the magazines that are beginning to be occupied by candidates in the campaign. Pablo Iglesias has been on the television making the pimp with the owners of the same, while Casado and Rivera try to be nice without achieving it (They give grime when they propose to like and get into the tone of an enjoyable program, it is better to stay institutional and cold). Pedro Sanchez, who, in terms of manhood and plant, is the best gifted, does not show much and prefers to expose his rivals, to see if they burn in the sun of ridicule.
To this country loone you need, with urgency, a little ventilation.