Holbrook & Badger Hill…
I had expected a field, from what I had been told
And a field it proved to be;
A soccer pitch in a meadow, a fold,
Surrounded by an occasional tree…
Dugouts and shelters formed neat little boxes
Along a section of touchline, trodden
No doubt by badgers and foxes,
The November grass limp and sodden…
The players’ entrance, through bushes and fencing,
Reminiscent of a tumbledown zoo,
Was a tangle, a jungle, I was sensing,
Headed by the officiating crew…
Random, short double-rows of plastic seats
Lay uncovered, derelict, broken and weathered,
Rather like teeth or fractured cleats,
Twisted at angles, loosely tethered…
However, the absence of cows in the adjacent field
Meant that when the ball was retrieved,
Players would not be forced to yield
To splatters of cow-dung and they were relieved…
I had expected a field, from what I had been told
But it was not what I expected it to be;
A football ground, a meadow, a fold,
Yet very satisfying for me…
Pete Ray
December 2014
A visit to Holbrook St Michael’s ground, which I really liked.
Sadly, a poor refereeing display of ineptness and inconsistency riled the combatants but the venue was totally brilliant…
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