Social distancing not a problem at Sabden FC of the Pendle Charity Sunday League. Actually there were about 30 people watching, and presumably most of them went home happy enough after their morning’s entertainment as the home team won 9-0. The main stand of the Nutter Barn ground is, endearingly, made from a recycled bus shelter. The photographer’s bag makes an appearance to bottom left.
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.
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.
Saturday is football day. Bingley Town, in red-and-black, won this match 2-1 over FC Sporting Keighley. But this will be the last one for a while — for me, for them — as, with all the resistance of a wet herring being gutted on a fishmonger’s slab, we are heading back into “lockdown” from Thursday. I use the quotes to suggest that it’s not really lockdown at all, seeing as many things will of course remain open, so actually it’s the selective targeting of a few sectors of the economy that are seen as expendable, and a general excuse to push house arrest as a desirable state of affairs. But we have been sold the long con in any case.
RIP Sean Connery too, who has made the blog in times past; and I stand by what I said about him on that page.
Going to see a football match is such a simple, harmless thing, and no one is compelled to do it. Our Glorious Leader and some associated bureaucrats, desperate to deflect blame away from the fact they’ve all been promoted above their level of competence, are desperate to take this pleasure away. Region is being played off against region, town against town, neighbour against neighbour even, and simple, harmless things are suddenly not so simple any more. What a farce all this has been, and a no-deal Brexit still to come.
This is about half an hour before kick off at Atherton Collieries’ very fine little ground, by the way. The hosts were smiling at the end — the scoreboard read 5-0 by full time.
Being 42 