Please don’t ask which one of these people is Ally. Although I admit it took me a while to get the point of the identity (Ally = Allerton = Northallerton Town FC). Yes, I am aggrieved by the green bin, but it is what it is.
The younger members of the small crowd at AFC Bentley v AFC Phoenix disport themselves in an aesthetically pleasing manner over the little main stand. It would have been very easy for this one to have been cluttered up by a number of things — signs on the back wall, or dangling wires, maybe — but other than at the bottom right corner, these things are not present (and I did consider cropping further, but then the standing couple would have been too near the edge). I doubt any of them particularly cared that the visiting team won on the day, they were just enjoying the sunshine, as was I.
Getting the train from Hebden Bridge to points further north-west involves passing through — or rather (on a viaduct), over — the town of Accrington. I once got involved in a conversation on social media as to which was England’s most ‘Northern’ town, meaning, not geographically, but culturally, stereotypically. This place won, and each time I cross the viaduct and see its seemingly endless ranks of terraced, back-to-back housing, I remember why. This is just a small part of the whole. LS Lowry could paint Accrington as it looks today, and few would doubt the authenticity.
A benign one I can assure you. FC Halifax Town fans express their feelings about the scoring of the winning penalty in the shoot out in the (take a deep breath) National League North Play-off Semi-Final 2nd leg at home to Salford City (whose players really should practice penalties more). Second trip to the Shay stadium this season, after New Year’s Day, and there’ll probably be another one next Saturday seeing as we might as well go to the play-off final now they’ve made it.
Windsor Road, Hebden Bridge. This is fairly typical for round here. I like the way the colours of the window frames change from house to house, and also from the top floors to the bottom — for these will all be two separate houses, one on top and one underneath.
The Campaign for Real Football might not have approved of Sky moving the kick-off of this weekend’s big game in the Championship to a Sunday lunchtime, but they could never complain about Turf Moor, Burnley. This has got to be one of the most unreconstructed pieces of Northern England remaining in existence, surely.
With this determination I have not to repeat myself on this blog, and living in a home town that isn’t really that big — there are only so many corners of it to photograph. But I’m pretty sure I haven’t done this one before.
Being 42 