Dalton Mills must have once been a major operation, going on the size of the building. Now it is ringed with fencing and ‘Trespassers Keep Out!’ notices — and some random vehicles, parked there in defiance of the possibility that the whole thing might just crumble down to street level at some point in the near future. It looks good, though, and whatever the plans are for it, I doubt that renovation will improve its aesthetic.
As I post this on Sunday evening, I already know my weekend has consisted of two football matches. One was far more entertaining than the other and played out in front of 87 people (officially) in a relaxed atmosphere where no one’s bag was searched, there were no drug-sniffer dogs and no one questioned whether I should or shouldn’t be bringing a camera into the ground. The other, less entertaining but far more expensive one, was played out in front of 73,556 (again, officially) people and, well, all the other things. Guess which of the two games this is.
Being 42 