Being a Hajduk supporter means more than just a passion for football; it's a way of life, deeply rooted in the identity of Split and Dalmatia. It’s an unspoken oath, passed down through generations, woven into the fabric of daily existence. Even before the ball touches the Poljud turf, the entire city already pulses to the rhythm of the upcoming match.

Saturday afternoon, or Sunday evening, is when the city transforms. From early morning, cafes are bustling, conversations revolve around the starting eleven, tactical setups, and the eagerly awaited victory. People wear the Bili jerseys and scarves, the air is thick with anticipation, an almost palpable energy. The journey to Poljud isn't just a walk to the stadium; it’s a procession, a pilgrimage to a sacred place where history and future merge. Groups of friends, families with children, old and young – all united in one goal: to support their Hajduk.

When you step onto the Poljud stands, you feel something special. It's not just a concrete arena; it’s a temple. The sight of the gleaming green pitch, the architecture of "The Beauty of Plinarska" (Ljepotica iz Plinarske), and above all, the white and blue mosaic of people in the stands. The heart of Torcida beats in the North, in the Jug stand. There, embraced by the most loyal, a wall of sound is created that sends shivers down your spine. A minute before the players emerge, when the floodlights intensify and the recognizable anthem begins, the entire stadium explodes. Choreographies, often grand and meticulously planned, cover the stands, sending a clear message of strength and unity.

Nowhere is this spirit more evident than in the Vječni derbi, the Eternal Derby, when GNK Dinamo Zagreb comes to Poljud. This is not merely a football match; it's a clash of identities, a century-old rivalry that raises the blood pressure across the entire country. The atmosphere is charged with electricity, pushing the limits of endurance. The singing never stops, the rhythm of the drums is relentless, and the smoke from hundreds of baklje (flares) paints the night sky in crimson and scarlet hues, transforming Poljud into fiery ramparts. Every duel on the pitch is met with roars, every successful move with thunderous approval. Fans don't just watch the game; they play it with their Bili, pushing them forward with every cry of "Hajduče, volim te!" (Hajduk, I love you!). It's a symphony of passion, where Torcida is the twelfth player, an unyielding heart.

This oath, this unstoppable devotion, is deeply ingrained in Split's identity. It's not just about trophies – though they are sweet. It's about belonging, about preserving the pride of the city and Dalmatia, about dišpet (defiance/spite). Through victories and defeats, through sun and rain, the banner "Hajduk živi vječno" (Hajduk lives forever) isn't just a phrase; it's a credo. It’s what drives us to always return, to always believe.

When the final whistle blows and the floodlights slowly dim, regardless of the outcome, the sense of camaraderie remains. It's a silent promise that we will return next time, with the same fervor, the same hope. Because for a Hajduk supporter, balun (football) is life, and Poljud is home. And that home is never empty, as long as the heart of Torcida beats within it.