When the Royal Society moved to their new home in Anoeta in 1993, they left the fireworks behind – in theory because the Real Arena, as the stadium is now called, was farther from the sea – but was revived in 2005 at the behest of Iñigo, Olaizola, Manager and cousin of Alkorta.
Iturralde, 56, an elevator engineer and a lifelong fan of the Royal Society and Fireworks, got the job. “The club announcer is from Hernani, the same town as me,” he said. “He called me and asked if I would like to do that.”
At this point, of course, the value of torches as a news source has diminished: radio, television and the internet have managed to prevent the people of San Sebastian from having to look to the sky to know whether their team scored a goal or not. Izagirre finds it useful when you can’t see the game, although it may be unreliable. “When you’re in the kitchen and Do you hear a soundYou’re never sure if you’ve missed anything, ”he said.
The tradition, however, persists not only because it is exclusive to San Sebastián – “the fans see it as something that belongs to us,” said Iñaki Mendoza, historian of the Real Sociedad Club – but also because of the genius of Alkorta’s idea: It There is a moment of perfect tension between the two explosions, there is a silence full of hope and fear.
“When people walk around town on match day and hear the first rocket, they are eagerly waiting for the second,” said Mendoza. “And when you hear it, keep walking with a smile because Real scored.” Izagirre describes it as “a beautiful moment in which everyone is waiting”.
However, in the past year, fireworks have symbolized something else. Iturralde had to change its way of working due to the pandemic. In the Anoeta, you can no longer see games up close to the field as the Real Arena is well known on site and dives through a tunnel for quick access to the street. Instead, he has to sit in an executive box on the corner of the stadium and navigate the stairs as he walks out.