Grandfather Cannon’s vital empanada on his 70th birthday

Hoy, Bertín Osborne, That man who has lived as if every day were a bullfight in the Maestranza, turns 70. In the blue gaze of the Madrid native an era is reflected, that of a country partying in a housecoat in front of the television, a cathodic illusion of after-dinner drinks bathed in sherry, pasodobles and country that resonated in our Iberian halls, with half of the audience hypnotized His grave singing was the least of it, perhaps one more piece of his arsenal of weapons of mass seduction. The important thing was his solid patriotic appearance to beautify the living room with a man’s voice on New Year’s Eve or whenever. Bertín was forgiven everything in exchange for a smile, a mirage of a romp in 625 lines. It seemed destined to tame the soul, to comfort wounded hearts and to perpetuate an ephemeral dream that never ends. But then, when he became flesh and came off the screen, like Jeff Daniels in The purple rose of Cairo, all the Mias Farrows They suffered the blows of their insatiable reality.

Now that He gives away hams so that they can forgive him for his excesses and save the profitability of his image, We guess that all contradictions fit into his figure: the uncontrolled lover, the faithful friend, the absent father, the incapable husband, the man who sings for everyone but who belongs to none. Bertín came into the world with the solemn name of Norbert John Ortiz Osborne, a title that promised an orderly life, corseted in the customs of his caste. He was born into an aristocratic family of rancid ancestry (is that the same as rancid ancestry?) and silences dense like a brewing storm. On Serrano Street, the epicenter of the Madrid of the well-born, Bertín was molded between rigid rules, golf clubs and the expectations of a father, the Count of Donadío de Casasola, who imagined for his son a future as an agronomist, with a farm , dogs and hunting Sundays. But Bertín, with that spark of rebellion that always accompanied him, only bought some of those proposals. He had other plans.

The breakup with the father

Young Bertín soon became the reflection of everything his father despised: untamed, seductive, a lover of the world who seemed to move on whims. The arguments were the soundtrack of the home. It is said that one day, after one of those colossal confrontations, the father, in a fit of fury, broke a golf club on his back. That was the last act of a lost war. Bertín, who already sensed that his true place was on stage, took the exit door. With his six feet tall and a smile that promised endless nights, he launched himself into the world without looking back. First there were the discos, bowling in second-rate venues, where his deep voice began to carve a style. Then, the first opportunities on television and the discovery of a charisma that transcended any border. Bertín not only sang, he made people fall in love. The women adored him; men wanted to be him. Spain adopted him as a kind of rogue prince, the gallant who could dazzle an aristocrat as well as a waitress.

Love and shipwrecks

Among the achievements that marked his life, Sandra Domecq occupies a special place. Bertín married young this woman from his same caste, with whom he shared not only a lineage but an overflowing passion. With Sandra he lived days of wine and roses, but also stormy nights. The death of his first son, Christian, just born, was a wound that never fully healed. Then they came Alejandra, Eugenia and Claudia, but not even paternity could anchor Bertín. He was a man too free, too seductive, for the ordered life that Sandra needed.

After his divorce, Bertín’s life became a carousel of romances. Brigitte Nielsen, Gabriela Sabatini, Ana Obregón, Mar Flores. Their names, some confirmed, others the result of rumors, and many unknown, are intertwined in a sentimental chronicle that Spain followed with fascination and envy. but it was Fabiola Martínez, the Venezuelan model he met at a casting, who took him back to the altar. With her he shared some of his most stable years, marked by the birth of his son Kike, diagnosed with cerebral palsy.

Kike’s arrival was a turning point in Bertín’s life. For the first time, his image as an eternal heartthrob transformed into that of a committed father. With Fabiola, he created a foundation to support children with disabilities. But their cohabitation, marked by Bertín’s erratic character and his constant infidelities, ended up breaking up the marriage. In 2021, they announced their separation, and Bertín returned to being single, that terrain where he always seemed most comfortable. If Bertín’s love life was already familiar territory, the last chapter of his biography has added an unexpected twist. Shortly after reaching the age of 70, Bertín became a father for the seventh time, this time with Gabriela Guillén, a young Paraguayan woman 40 years younger than him. What could have been happy news turned into a scandal after the singer’s statements, which described the birth of the child as an “accident.” For months, Bertín seemed to ignore the child’s existence, a gesture that public opinion did not forgive him. Suddenly, the man who had always enjoyed popular favor became the target of criticism. However, over time, he accepted his fatherhood and, although he remains a distant father, he has tried to wash his image with hams and symbolic gestures.

The shadows of decay

This 2023 has not only given birth to the media storm due to his paternity. Bertín also faced health problems that kept him away from the stage. Lingering Covid stole his voice for months, forcing him to cancel concerts. Rumors that their shows were failing to fill seats added a bitter note to a difficult year. Added to this was the death of his father, the Count of Donadío, with whom he had achieved a late reconciliation.

During the confinements of the pandemic, the entire family shared days at Bertín’s Sevillian farm, a gesture of truce that arrived just in time. Despite the blows, Bertín has not completely lost his ability to reinvent himself. With the help of his friend José Luis López, known as El turronero, has launched a new brand of gourmet products, BO, and has regained its relationship with the media. In recent months, he posed with Fabiola and her son Kike on the cover of ¡Hola!, announcing that the foundation will bear the young man’s name to make his disorder visible. “It was the cover we wanted,” A source who knows the media operation mounted around the Foundation confirms to us, a cover that is repeated cyclically.

A complex legacy

At 70 years old, Bertín Osborne is a reflection of the contradictions of a Spain that elevated him to an icon. He is the irresistible heartthrob who never knew how to be a good husband, the father who works late, the artist who always put charisma before talent. But perhaps its charm lies in its imperfection. Bertín is a grotesque and endearing caricature of the country that spans the decades between the arrival of color television and social networks, a country that does not stop looking at itself in the mirror of its defects. With his elegant bearing and his scoundrel smile, let’s hope that Bertín continues riding between lights and shadows, between Motos and Broncano, between songs and scandals. At least as long as Spain remains willing to forgive him and applaud him.