The henhouse trembled and with it the whole stadium trembled. It was exciting, but with the emotion of not knowing if the Bernabéu was going to take it or if it was going to fall. Let's say it was exciting because your own life was at stake. It was the '80s and many of the partners who went through no more process than teaching the card, then they fell to fall again out of the stadium for a friend to pick him up and enter.
The official capacity was a "fake news" when they were not yet called "fake news". It was the chicken coop where the animation was, the young people, standing, cluttered up the stairs on big party days. If you left, if you lost your site, you could not go back. From the south end, it was shouted: "Hey henhouse!", And from there it was answered: "Hello south fund! and that's how the whole stadium was greeted. Then he was asked to throw the Bernabéu. And that was when the emotion for your life began.
Soccer was uncomfortable. That's why the first queue that had to be endured was to pay for the pad with which to protect your ass from the hard stone that was called, generously, seat. If you were standing, those twenty dollars you saved.
It was uncomfortable and unpleasant: to go to the bathroom you had to prepare yourself like someone going to a chemical war. They were dirty, they smelled bad and in breaks you had to leave about ten minutes before the first time ended to be able to take a place in the queue. How would you like to buy yourself a beer or a sandwich, you had to choose cola. It was not an easy decision.
And it was a good thing if you were a man, because if you were a woman, most of the time the bathroom used to be closed, or the men took advantage of it to get in there and the dirt overwhelmed everything. If we survive those baths and the smell of urine, we will be indestructible.
There was a fence that surrounded the field so that the fans did not jump to the field, as if locking the fans standing was not more dangerous, as unfortunately it was demonstrated in other fields. As the whole low area was standing, the goals were celebrated by making small avalanches that were, in fact, a matter of survival.
Going with children was, at best, daring.
The state was mythical and on European nights the spirit was transmitted from the team to the stands and from the stands to the team, but the intestines of the stadium showed that the money was not enough because there were urgent works that were not done. Everything changed later. Changed times, safety, Florentino arrived and Bernabéu became a nice place to go.
Some say that he misses the previous era, that this gave character to the club, that the stadium should not be touched.
Maybe it's that they never wanted to pee.