Víctor Sandoval: Jobless, No Savings, No Retirement Plan

Víctor Sandoval admits he is jobless and has no savings

Víctor Sandoval has stated clearly that he is "without work for the first time in his life" and sees no prospects of finding any. The television collaborator, known for his stint on Sálvame and his refusal to join the new project No somos nadie, gave an interview to Semana magazine describing "the worst situation" of his life. He admits he has no savings because he "always lived day by day." The phrase that sparked public debate was another: "It saddens me, because I wasn't born to live under a bridge."

The case has an uncomfortable economic layer. Sandoval does not speak of a traumatic dismissal or a sector crisis; he speaks of a profession—television personality—in which income arrives in bursts and disappears without warning. He summarizes it himself: "I could go a month without work, but I knew something would come later. Now there is nothing."

How someone who no longer appears on TV makes a living

The career path he describes fits a repeated pattern in the entertainment industry: years of high income, spending at the same rate, and no safety net when the phone stops ringing. Sandoval acknowledges that after his period with Netflix, he waited eight months for a project that never materialized, and that this waiting period accumulated problems leading to his current situation.

The detail that has circulated most is his own comparison with the end of other showbiz figures. "I believe deep down I am an artist, and many artists have ended badly, like Gracita Sarracena or Lola Gaos," he says. "I see myself ending up like them."

Why he rejected his former colleagues' new program

His refusal to join No somos nadie was not a scheduling issue. Sandoval describes it as a decision for self-care: the format, he says, is "a ticking time bomb for him." His argument is that he lacks "that resilience" to withstand certain dynamics and that his presence would generate conflict on set: "I will cause a scandal, you will be upset, and it benefits neither me, nor the program, nor any of my colleagues."

He also acknowledges mixed feelings. Watching the premiere "hurt him," but over the days the sensation turned into indignation: "I had the feeling of seeing the same thing again, people questioning what others say because they think they know more than the person in front of them."

---

Savings as a pending subject for celebrities

The majority reaction has not been compassion. The dominant argument is that a professional with high incomes for years should have built a cushion, and that the complaint comes too late. Some recall that Sandoval himself admitted losing all his assets, while others point out that in volatile professions—actor, singer, collaborator—the only defense is to treat good years as an anomaly rather than a fixed salary.

Against this hard line appears another, more uncomfortable one: those who argue that long-term unemployment hits equally those who had money and those who never did, and that mocking a man over sixty with no income fixes nothing. The discussion, fundamentally, is not about Sandoval: it is about whether the protection system covers intermittent workers in the entertainment sector.

The retirement that never comes

Sandoval himself has focused on the end of the road: he does not believe his retirement will be stable. This is the point where his case ceases to be anecdotal. Careers with irregular contributions—many years registered, many unregistered or nonexistent—produce pensions that rarely compensate for the standard of living during the golden era.

Here lies the crux: a profession that rewards visibility and punishes foresight. And a sector, television, that has drastically reduced the number of available positions for profiles that were omnipresent a decade ago.

How many entertainment professionals are exactly in that same situation without saying so in an interview?