At Brinklow…
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.
Brinklow beat Ambleside Sports 5-2…
Afterwards when the players and the spectators had left the scene, the nets had been taken down and all the perimeter flags had been removed.
I saw then a man walking a dog in a rural spring environment on a bland green field…
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