I'm not a Real Madrid fan, even though I spent part of my youth living just a few blocks away from the Santiago Bernabéu. When I was 9, I lived on Concha Espina, and at 24, on Calle Panamá. Back then, you could walk into the stadium for free at halftime and head up to the standing section. From there, I watched legends like Pachín, Pirri, Puskas, Gento... and later Camacho, Santillana, Juanito, and the always-controversial Uli Stielike.
But funnily enough, my first team at 9 years old was Rayo Vallecano. Why? Because it sounded like a superhero squad! "The Ray." Later, at 24, I traveled to Seville to catch a Brazil vs Scotland match at the Benito Villamarín during the '82 World Cup. I fell in love with the Triana neighborhood, the little farmhouses, the sherry, and the pure passion of Betis fans. Smiling to myself, I said: "From now on, I’m bético."

Torn Between Love and Hate

So, what does being a Betis fan have to do with loving and hating Real Madrid? Well… nothing and everything. I’m a football lover — an objective observer. I admire teams with great players, though I’ll admit, my objectivity goes out the window when they face Betis. Of course!
Still, talent deserves respect. A magical goal should always get a round of applause, no matter the jersey. What Madrid fan didn’t clap for Ronaldinho after that masterpiece at the Bernabéu? What Barça fan didn’t tip their hat to Mágico González after that wonder goal against Maradona’s Barça? Great football is timeless. It sticks with you.

Those of us who support other teams have a love-hate relationship with Madrid: we crave their downfall, but we also admire their moments of brilliance. Who didn’t fall in love with Zidane’s volley in Glasgow? Or that insane free-kick by Roberto Carlos that bent like a glowing snake? Who doesn’t jump out of their seat when Vinicius or Mbappé slice through defenses like they’re just training cones?
The explanation’s simple: pure talent brings joy. Mastery triggers an emotional connection, whether you want it to or not.

The Current Madrid: Bright and Dark Sides

And why do we hate Real Madrid too? Partly for the drama, sure. But also because they symbolize power, success, and sometimes that smug air of superiority that naturally breeds resistance. Hating them feels almost... human. It’s rebellion, group identity, a thirst for fairness, a touch of envy — and a whole lot of epic storytelling.
As for today's Madrid? Honestly, they don’t exactly win me over. I see too much whining, too much acting, too much drama. That Copa final? A parade of complaints rather than beautiful football. Ugly, ugly, ugly. A whiny Madrid isn’t hated for being great — it’s hated for not acting like it. Weirdly enough, right now Barça is playing better: more teamwork, less theater. Sure, they complain too — but at least they cover it up with good football.

In the end, Real Madrid is like a distant star: shining so bright that it sometimes dazzles, sometimes annoys, but it’s impossible to ignore. Loving or hating them is part of what being a football fan is all about.
But one thing’s for sure: as long as Madrid stirs up strong emotions, good or bad, they'll stay eternal — just like the hot chocolate and churros at San Ginés Chocolatería.
And of course, ¡Viva el Betis manque pierda!