"Release Zones"

CHAPTER XVI
_{Small Double}

Football was the working-class religion of Budapest. Even after the golden age of the 1950s national team, stadiums stayed crowded. Clubs like Ferencváros, Újpesti Dózsa, Vasas, and MTK became symbols of neighborhoods, workplaces, and social groups.

On a bright spring Sunday, Józsi and his father hurried through the turnstiles at Üllői út, the home of Ferencváros. State-run sports policy pushed both elite and mass participation; tickets were cheap, and matches became a weekly ritual.

Vendors sold sunflower seeds from paper cones. Fans tied scarves around their wrists. Wooden benches creaked. Everyone had opinions on transfers, on the latest controversies, on the referee — always on the referee.

When Fradi scored, the stadium roared in a way few places in socialist Hungary could: spontaneous, unsupervised, uncontrolled. Social historians often describe sports arenas as rare “release zones” where emotion could overflow without political risk.

Football didn’t change the system, but it softened it — stitching community into the rigid everyday life of the city.

+ Bath
+ Toiletries
+ Cosmetic mirror
+ Tea station
+ Drinking water
+ Dresser
+ Clothes hanger
+ Dining table
+ Working table
+ Coffee table
+ Antique furniture
+ Armchair
+ View

+ Space 15 sq.m.
+ Wi-Fi
+ Double bed 160*200
+ AC
+ Blackout curtains
+ LCD TV
+ Hairdryer
+ Minibar
+ Safebox
+ Electronic lock
+ Slippers
+ Bathrobes
+ Shower