Through his telephoto lens at Arrowhead Stadium, the photographer Eduardo Biscayart watched Lionel Messi score the first of three goals against Algeria, then turn to a broadcast camera, blow a kiss, and mouth the words “Te amo, papá.” After the final whistle, Messi wept and spoke of days made difficult by something “totally unrelated to football.” The image of the tearful captain, later understood as a son’s anguish over his father’s health, would become the emotional undercurrent of a media storm that erupted two days later.

On Thursday, during the Luzu TV streaming programme “El Show del Verano,” host Florencia Peña — an actress and comedian, not a journalist — interrupted the light-hearted banter to announce, with apparent certainty, that Jorge Messi had died. The information, fed to her through an earpiece by a producer, was false. Within minutes, the Messi family issued a statement: Jorge was under medical supervision, recovering favourably, and they expressed “deep distress at the lack of sensitivity, respect and scruples” shown. Luzu TV fired the production team, Peña resigned, and the show was cancelled. President Javier Milei called her a “petty gossip” and declared that “if you mess with Messi, you mess with everyone.” Economy Minister Luis Caputo referred to her as “this idiot.”

The incident, unfolding as Argentina followed its national team’s World Cup campaign, laid bare the uneasy coexistence of traditional journalism and the booming streaming ecosystem. Commentators across the political spectrum — from the conservative deputy Amalia Granata, who insisted that “to do journalism you have to study journalism,” to the veteran presenter Baby Etchecopar, who argued that Peña “without realising it, was doing journalism and she is not a journalist” — seized on the episode to question the credentials of those who command large live audiences. International press, from London’s Daily Mail to NBC News, framed the story as a cautionary tale of unverified information in the age of social media, with The Guardian noting the family’s plea for “humanity.”

Behind the public fury, quieter gestures traced the contours of private pain. Antonela Roccuzzo, Messi’s wife, silently unfollowed the Instagram accounts of Luzu TV, its founder Nicolás Occhiato, and Peña. Celia Messi, the footballer’s mother, accepted Peña’s tearful apology, reportedly telling her she knew it was not done in bad faith and even suggesting they might one day share a coffee. From his hospital room, Jorge Messi himself, watching the television coverage, offered a phrase that cut through the outrage with weary humour: “Qué quilombo que armé” — “What a mess I’ve made.”