Sure, old people, there is a familiarity to the University of Hawaii football team playing home games in a bleachers-only facility while waiting for a new stadium to be built in Halawa.

It was the early 1970s, and Honolulu Stadium was in the last days before disco. The future was individual seats, artificial turf, and stands that could flex between football and baseball configurations. But for at least a couple more years, the old stadium in McCully would have to do. And what was wrong with that? Well, nothing.

It was nicknamed the “Termite Palace,” but the eusocial insects never snacked on the wooden bleachers, instead swarming the light towers’ bulbs.

There were, maybe, 200 parking stalls, with limited additional street parking on Isenberg Street. Fans were creative in finding neighborhood parking or arriving on TheBus, which charged 25 cents for adults, a dime for youths, and also offered a free transfer slip for the return trip. Long-time sportscaster Don Robbs used to pay a monthly fee to leave his car at a gas station.

On the King Street side, lineups wrapped around newspapers were peddled.

Next to the box office, an elderly Japanese woman sold boiled peanuts. If you were nice to her, she would add more peanuts. Everyone was nice to her.

Early-arriving folks stopped across the street at Chunky’s, whose windows were covered with social-club cards and a menu containing the item that mattered most: thick-cut fries.

Inside, the concessions stands offered saimin, corn on the cob, and teriyaki sticks. It was said the aged plumbing enhanced the flavor of the saimin and corn. The lines were long for the Primo Beer Garden.

For Hawaii Islanders baseball games, vendor Howard Igami would walk up and down the stands, rasp-yelling: “Hhhot-dogs … peeee-nuts!” The peanut shells would be discarded onto the floor, eventually falling through the cracks and onto the concourse — or people’s heads.

In right field, Columbia Inn had a large sign with a cut-out circle in it. The player whose home-run ball threaded the hole received $1,000. It is believed Walter “No Neck” Williams was the only player to deliver the money ball.

Some local high school players were asked to volunteer as bullpen catchers during warmups for the visiting team. One of the volunteers was Roy Gerela, who was the kicker on three of the Pittsburgh Steelers’ Super Bowl teams. Another was Pal Eldredge, Spectrum Sports’ color analyst and a former Punahou coach and Major League Baseball scout.

Football games had their own set of challenges, particularly for the media. Radio commentators had to excuse-me sidle past the newspaper reporters to access the broadcast booth. Because everybody shared the restrooms and they were located far from the booths, a special arrangement was made. The solution was an empty Folgers coffee can.

The locker rooms were open-air spaces with concrete flooring. Many of the high school football teams went back to their campuses for postgame showers.

Time was kept on the Diamond Head side. A clock, sponsored by Bulova, showed Honolulu’s actual time. The scoreboard — with “General Tire” on top and “Melim” at the base — had a clock that kept the game time. Both were analog clocks with the second hands used for countdowns.

Aside from converting field goals, kickers tried to hit the scoreboard clock or, even more ambitiously, boot the football onto Isenberg Street.

Honolulu Stadium had its own version of a security system. “Johnny,” who managed the stadium, set loose his dogs as a final check before leaving.

Stadium officials and the media had a symbiotic relationship. As the Islanders’ general manager, Lew Matlin filled the press-box fridge with beer. His successor, Jack Quinn, maintained the tradition.

Four decades later, it is now Lew Matlin’s son — UH athletic director David Matlin — trying to turn the on-campus Clarence T.C. Ching Athletic Complex into a setting as comfortable as the Termite Palace.