VISITING BRINKLOW FOOTBALL CLUB...

At Brinklow FC…

There was spring sunshine,

A large, mown, grassy field

Marked by white lines

And a boundary of thick, mature trees

At Brinklow…

Goal-nets quivered to a breeze,

As players stretched sinews

Uniformly, as dancers, or military crews

And balls were served by amateur coaches,

Bringing goalkeepers to their knees…

White nets shivered from seven strikes,

As shots turned into goals;

Scorers, like dancers, bared their souls

As balls flew past amateur goalies,

Bringing despair and frowns alike…

There was a spring shadow,

A man and his dog on a field,

Marked by white goal-frames

And a balcony of stark, secure trees

At Brinklow…

Pete Ray

May 2016

Visiting Brinklow FC meant viewing a large field with goal-nets, players warming up and bright sunshine on a warm May Saturday but when the players and spectators had left the scene, the nets had been taken down and all the perimeter flags had been removed, all I saw was a man walking a dog in a rural spring environment on a bland green field…

WHITE NETS...

WHITE LINES, UNIFORM WARM-UP ROUTINES...

STOUT TREES...

MAN WALKS DOG...