This tree has a noble aspect. I like its seeming formality and the way the guys disport themselves below it in various ways. I like the little cloud fluff that it seems to have caught in the top branches. Pictured in Stockwood Park, Luton — a town which makes a classy debut on the blog (though see also tomorrow).
In a week when the ‘big clubs’ either took the piss by calling a massive bluff, or finally over-reached themselves with their hubris, it seems apposite to put up a picture of some actual football: you know, the sort where there’s still competition, intimacy, and interest. Plus, a nice background at Brighouse Sports FC of the West Yorkshire League D2 (they’re the ones in yellow, and won 4-0). I find it ‘Super’, anyway.
I decided yesterday’s photo was a misrepresentation, so here is a definite example of a crowd. And if people hadn’t wanted to be there, they wouldn’t have been there.
Before anyone gets too obstreperous I will observe this is a long zoom taken down almost the full length of the football pitch. The vertical white posts are each about two meters apart. As we saw when all this kicked off a year ago, it’s quite possible to use a camera to create the impression of crowding where none exists. But it was still good to see at least 70 people at this match (an entertaining game at Eagley FC in Bolton). In any case, the sooner we start to feel close to one another again, the better.
That’s a big lens. Perhaps he’s compensating for something.
Football is for me a way of exploring the world, including parts of it that lie near my home but which I’ve never previously had cause to visit. So tonight — my first-ever trip to Dewsbury, a largish town lying between Huddersfield and Leeds. The town centre shocked me somewhat: a post-Brexit, post-Covid vision of dereliction, 90% of the old retail units either abandoned altogether or shuttered up until next week, at least (but it all looks more permanently damaged than that). But across the river to the south, some signs of life in the cold winds. It’s only from below that true recovery ever stems.
Now here’s a fairly unique combination: witnessed on the edge of Burnley this afternoon. But as I typed the title of this post, it struck me that it sounded like one of those ‘what 3 words’ geolocation things. So I tried it, and magnificently, “goalie.pylon.llama” does correspond to a 3 x 3m square of land on South Island, New Zealand, to the west of the town of Greymouth — as this page proves. There could be a whole new game in this.
And yes, football’s back. In some ways, anyway.
I put up this photo because I love the backdrop of the houses on Calder Holmes Park. A proper football landscape if ever there was one. I put this up also because of how it wound up certain people when I posted it on a Facebook group earlier. One of the most iniquitous things about the year that we have lived through is how it has wiped out the idea that any ‘ordinary people’ might be able to make their own judgments about what is healthy and safe, and what is not. Well, lockdown lovers everywhere — yes, there are certain people who are back out there, living their lives.
Bojo the Clown has decreed that it’s OK to get some local entertainment at football grounds that expand beyond just being a pitch in a park somewhere. This gentleman, like the other 85 or so in attendance at Steeton v Brighouse on this Tuesday evening, ponders why the provision of tea, snacks, hell, even maybe a pint of beer or two, would have exposed us all to mass infection in a way that keeping the snack bar closed did not (we assume). Answers on a postcard to 10 Downing Street.
I still proceed with my favoured Saturdays as best I can. Sowerby Bridge FC offer me the chance to still witness an entertaining afternoon’s sport, and despite this being the first ground I’ve seen with power lines extending over the pitch, as seen here. The December gloom was deep and grey, but while this sort of thing can still happen then there remains some light in the world.
Saturdays are football days…. still just about. But while we might potentially have been in attendance at Morecambe FC today for their FA Cup tie with Solihull, this is declared ‘unsafe’ by Our Glorious Leaders at this present time, so like the other interested hundreds we had to make do with TV. The local mug and, in the background, Clare’s scarf offered totems of support. But it’s unreal, fake somehow. The trouble is that no one in ‘authority’ really gives a toss.
Being 42 