The old stadium still bears faint traces of its past. Credit: Creative Commons
Amid overgrown weeds, rusting structures, and the remnants of what was once a lively sports facility, Manuel Alonso has made his home. Since 2012, he has lived inside the abandoned football ground of the Can Pastilla Club — a space now consumed by nature and neglect.
The old stadium still bears faint traces of its past: dugouts, floodlights, the crumbling boundary wall, and worn-out changing rooms hint at its former life. Once home to local football matches, over the years it also hosted baseball games and archery sessions. Now, it’s a silent, forgotten lot.
In one corner of the grounds, Manuel has set up an improvised dwelling. He lives there with his 18-year-old son and a large dog that guards their patch of land. “People sneak in at night,” he says, pointing to a gaping hole in the front gate and gaps in the fencing that runs alongside the Llucmajor motorway. According to Manuel, the property belongs to two Dutch brothers, “but we’ve never heard anything from them.”
Their makeshift home is in poor condition, its roof visibly deteriorated. Scattered around it are an abandoned car, broken furniture, and even a baby’s cot. There’s no connection to the electricity grid or running water. Power comes from a generator, and water is stored in barrels and basins.
Manuel keeps a signed agreement tucked safely inside his shelter — a document from the former president of the now-defunct football club, Francisco Javier Mesa. The contract grants him permission to live on the premises “as a free-of-charge arrangement” in exchange for “the care, maintenance, surveillance, and safeguarding of the grounds and facilities.” “They asked me to come here and look after the place, and that’s what I’ve done ever since,” Manuel explains. His last paid job, he says, was planting olive trees in Llucmajor. His daughter visits daily with his granddaughter.
At the other end of the ground, the former changing rooms and bar now serve as makeshift parking for a few vehicles. Manuel claims they belong to “the people who manage the field and allow us to stay,” reinforcing his belief that he’s still fulfilling a role there.
But the derelict state of the site has sparked concern among local residents. They know Manuel. They know where he lives. And they know he’s not the only one. Near the local public school, an informal settlement of homeless people has taken root, blocking off a footpath and neighbouring access routes. The atmosphere has shifted, prompting nearby households to install alarms and increase security.
And so, the Can Pastilla football ground — once a hub of sporting activity — remains in limbo, caught between abandonment and occupation. And Manuel, with his dog, his family, and his story, remains its quiet guardian. Watching over what’s left.
