In the middle of 1969, a large hall for weddings, baptisms, and conventions opened in Spain’s Guadarrama Mountains. While the grand opening banquet was in full swing, the floor collapsed, the roof fell in, and the guests were buried in rubble. Fifty-two people died. The hall had been built with public funds, but without proper authorization, a building permit, or an architect in charge.
The owner and builder of the ephemeral edifice, Jesus Gil y Gil, went to jail. He got two years, three months, and two weeks behind bars for each death, but was eventually pardoned by Generalissimo Franco. As soon as he stepped out of prison, Jesus was back to serve the progress of the fatherland once again in the construction industry.
Some time later, this businessman became the owner of a soccer team, Atlético of Madrid. Thanks to soccer, which turned him into a popular television personality, this Jesus was able to launch a political career. In 1991 he was elected mayor of Marbella, winning more votes than anyone else in the country. During his election campaign he promised to clear pickpockets, drunks, and drug addicts off the streets of this tourist town reserved for the amusement of Arab sheiks and foreign gangsters specializing in gunrunning and drug trafficking.
Atlético of Madrid remains the foundation of his power and prestige, even though the team loses all too frequently. Managers do not last more than a few weeks. Jesus Gil y Gil seeks advice from his horse Imperioso, a snow-white and very sentimental stallion: “Imperioso, we lost.”
“I know, Gil.”
“Whose fault is it?”
“I don’t know, Gil.”
“Yes you do, Imperioso. It’s the manager’s fault.”
“So, fire him.”