El Hormiguero started out as a horror film when Pedro Sánchez said his program was number 1,879. Sánchez dedicates so much time to the media that it seems he saw them all to prepare for the interview. When Motos asks him, “Could you tell me what happened on the 653 program?” Sánchez, who was alone all night, would reply, “What time.” Then he admitted that he knew, because he saw the sign before he left. And it is the year 1879 that the PSOE was founded. With the PSOE that year, the seed of a very small bubble was planted that today, 144 years later, has grown into a seven-headed monster called El Sanchismo. He said it twice, about the monster Pedro Sánchez, who has begun to speak of sanchismo and anti-sanchismo with such ease that he could well have continued using Sánchez Castejón as his first name for the war, from which Sanchezcastejonismo would derive, a headache so big for journalists that probably nobody would bother with it. In a newspaper, the model is far above hate.
The relationship between Sánchez and Motos arose through a confusing treatment that differed from what was familiar to you; Sánchez initially used the household name and ended up treating the presenter like you, but calling him Pablo so often that Motos almost had a ponytail. “You, Pablo…” and “Pablo, you…” is a formula halfway between everything: either “You, Mr. Motos” or “Pablo, Uncle”. The socialist candidate came out to hand out (shirt rolled up, LGTBI bracelet to slap on arm) and he did it so comfortably (“I’ll win the elections”, “Don’t compare Yolanda to Abascal”, “Let’s say”) that the elections will be called in the summer to change the outcome [como se dijo en El Hormiguero] “It’s a very serious allegation to be contrasted and refuted”) that even Motos, exhausted, got in the car with him to go for a walk: “Correcting is not a lie.” I corrected it, like Suárez and González corrected it. “Lying is knowing that ETA isn’t behind 11-M and saying the opposite,” Sánchez said unchained and Motos agreed, “That was awful and gross.”
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Earlier, Motos sought to refute his congregation’s right-leaning bias by issuing an abbreviation in which several of his staffers revealed whom they had elected in the past. Two to the PSOE and one to shouting “I’ll go further!” to Podemos, like “Nobody can drive me crazy.” So it was left to regulate, but in any case it was ugly next to regulation: In this country there can be people who vote for any party and defend that party’s positions and attack those of opponents, regardless of criteria. It is true that another problem is that these people first devote themselves to journalism and have a place on television. Of the images shown of Motos employees, only one was a journalist and also a journalist who met this requirement: what does it matter who chooses to have an independent criterion far from party slogans?
The Trancas and Barrancas Ants asked Sánchez what he would do if his daughter dated a Vox voter. “Love is free,” Sánchez replied to the ant, although the answer should be better directed at his hypothetical son-in-law. The night got so chilly for Sánchez that the seven-headed monster was left with only one thing left, and the president honored her, provoking an ovation in a question that promised to make him uncomfortable about the hawk.
Pedro Sánchez with Pablo Motos in a moment from “El Hormiguero”.
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It was a dip of such caliber that the Spanish anti-sanchismo, commenting on the debate live on Twitter, took on the moderator. It’s a very strange and footballing effect. After making sure that Sánchez was very easygoing and placed his speech where and when he felt like it, and that at that time in enemy territory he was sweeping straight away any counter-arguments that Motos suggested or put forward, blaming the Success of the socialist was The candidate was selected solely by the moderator. For example, when Madrid or Barcelona concede five points to the opposition and the addicted press berate the rival for not being what they should be. The interview was seen as a bloody fight and even debunked as a ridiculous hoax that the most privileged minds of this country ate with sauce (Sánchez bans the audience from El Hormiguero), but in the end, of the 1,879 guests, Sánchez was the one who had of all the most fun.
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