The most genuine and wild mass spectacle I have witnessed in my life was seeing how the Liverpool ‘hooligans‘ behaved on the train on the way to Manchester. 

Hordes of hooligans filled the shuttle trains from Liverpool to Manchester for a football match between these age-old rivals, in what I found to be the most authentic and wild mass spectacle I’ve ever witnessed. The trains were quickly filled with fans, intoxicated with glory, singing, and waving their flags and scarves. The testosterone-charged atmosphere was electric, with each group possibly led by an alpha male. Once at the stadium, the fans continued their boisterous chants, seemingly uninterested in the actual game until the final whistle was blown. Their joy or misery was expressed through acts of vandalism. To me, it was clear that football has become their new religion, with hooligans serving as fervent worshippers. The stands of any sports event are a place of wild celebration, while the pitch is a place for grace and beauty. The spectators shout passionately, while the players on the field strive for perfection. The VIP box could be seen as a seat for Zeus, the ruler from Olympus, regardless of any scandals he might be involved in. This journey between Liverpool and Manchester took place in the mid-eighties. It was probably during this time that the mass phenomenon of hooliganism was beginning to take root, gradually spreading to all stadiums and turning it into a high-risk spectacle. For many years, I lived near the Bernabéu Stadium and could interpret the meaning behind each cheer from the crowd. I would see calm fans, fathers and their young children going to the stadium, their individuality merging into a collective spirit for their team. These peaceful fans have now multiplied into rowdy groups from the outskirts, watched over by thousands of police officers. It seems that everything began on those trains, where the fans journeyed towards victory or defeat, with nothing else mattering.