Llados, the 'coach' selling discipline for €20 a course

Llados, the discipline 'coach': €20 and three Lamborghinis in dispute

A man charging €20 for a short course has occupied a niche in Spain for nearly three years: the 'coach' who insults, shouts burpees, and sells an escape from the 'matrix' at a menu price. The persona works. And the question echoing in every discussion about Llados isn't whether he's likable, but whether behind it all lies a legitimate business, another charlatan, or simply a product people want to buy.

Who is Llados and why did it take three years for him to stop being a meme

Covered in tattoos, muscular, and with a posh accent, according to the most common descriptions. Llados started as an online personal trainer, moved to a clothing brand, then to supplements, then to teaching others to be trainers, and finally to selling personal development 'coaching' from Las Vegas. The roadmap isn't original: it's copied from Anglo-Saxon role models, and he has replicated it almost step by step. Hence, he's called the Spanish Andrew Tate or a market-stall copy of Andrew Tate.

His content is simple: wake up at five in the morning, do burpees, quit weed and video games, don't hang out with losers. Some argue that parents were saying all this twenty years ago for free. And others respond that, precisely because of that, someone was needed to repeat it with that tone.

The €20 course and the three Lamborghinis in dispute

The business model is central. A cheap short course — the €20 figure is repeated — is the gateway to an ecosystem where faith in the method is what's sold. The most cited defense says it's not a scam: 'Llados offers a product, and people buy that product.' The evidence provided is three Lamborghinis which, according to the same version, were supposedly paid for by his own subscribers.

The counterargument is uncomfortable: if the business consists of teaching others to sell the same course, the only one who wins is the one already at the top. This is where the word Ponzi appears, although no one agrees on exactly where it fits. Is selling hot air, by itself, illegal? The most common answer is no; what would be prosecutable is failing to deliver the product.

The mansion, the father, and the rags-to-riches story that doesn't add up

One of the points where the narrative falters is the biography. A €20 million mansion is mentioned, which, it's suggested, is actually rented. And the story of rising from the gutter cracks when recalling his past in motorcycling, with a father who paid for his equipment. The hero's journey only holds up halfway.

The other name that appears is Wes Watson, his mentor and now neighbor, with a judicial past presented as the source of his authority. The narrative — falling into the pit and climbing out — is precisely what makes these figures role models for many young people.

What is acknowledged even by critics

There's an uncomfortable consensus: even if accused of selling snake oil, the basic message — don't do drugs, don't waste your life, get moving — is considered positive. 'Stop smoking weed in the park and start moving your ass,' summarizes one of the most applauded comments. Others add that discipline is the only solid thing in the package.

Hence, some take his content with weekend irony and pay for the course just to have a laugh. A video is even circulating of someone selling Mercadona tortilla wraps in the subway, making €50 profit in two hours, as proof of his commercial instinct. The character has become a profitable meme, and secondhand embarrassment also sells.

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With the mansion up in the air, the Lamborghinis undocumented, and a message that both repels and serves, the question remains open: is Llados a symptom of a generation paying for what was once given away for free, or just the best salesman of a product that has always existed?