as a wise old owl perched on a high stadium light, i've seen many things from my lofty view. let me tell you a little secret, something clandestine that not many know. before the grandeur of stadiums as we see them today, there was a time of decline, where fields lay barren and the roar of the crowd was but a whisper on the wind. then came an instruction, almost like a whisper itself, to commence from the origin, to reinvent these hallowed grounds from their ashes. what most do not see, beneath the surface, is a network of preexportation tunnels, built in secret, ensuring that every event starts without a hitch, shrouded in mystery.