Stirabout

How bored was I this afternoon?
I started taking photos of other people's dogs.

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Watching Time Team. Bring on Songs of Praise!

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With Bury vs Oxford cancelled by 9am due to our infamous inability to thaw Gigg Lane out between November and May, I decided to stir out to Oadby Town. By chance I had a cheap camera in the car and a toddler in the back.

I gave the blokes on the gate £4 (which compares very favourably with Prem prices) and stuck my car in the end that Oadby were attacking. My spider senses told me it was warmer in the car than out, so we stayed put for ten minutes (with a pretty good view)before braving the cold.
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An action shot of the Stratford Town goalkeeper clearing his lines. My best action shot was of a free kick about ten minutes in, as it rasped into the top corner past the despairing dive of the goalkeeper. It was about that point that I realised I had no memory card in the camera.

Lad was getting a bit cold so I pointed the pram towards Brocks Hill, delighting in the ability to choose any vantage point we wanted.


Another thing I love is the high tech PA system, together with audible announcements - again, unlike some grounds I could mention.

Not a lot going on here. Oadby's goal keeper has just cleared the ball after a promising Stratford attack. The photo is significant in that while I was taking it Oadby swiftly countered and scored their second. Not sure exacctly what happened but I got the impression is was a speculative shot by this guy from about where he is here, after being clattered while scoring.

Fire engine with siren going appears at the far end. Probably my lad's favourite moment.
With a few minutes to go before half-time we headed for the clubhouse. It's been done up, and not to my taste. The carpet's been replaced by grey lino, for a start. It's while taking in these developments that I glance outsife and see the ball lobbing gently into the Oadby net to make it 2-1. If you are going to see the opposition scoring, it might as well be when you're clutching a freshly pulled pint of Guinness.

Another thing they've done is put the door at the front, just behind the goal, which is daft cus this bloke's in the way! While I'm trying to see round him, Stratford score again - but from my ideal vantage point (at the bar) the chap who nodded in the header was clearly offside.

The rugby's just about to kick off - though I don't like where they've put the telly either!

Lad plays with train.

Oadby kick off for the second half and we brave the cold again.

We head for the stand, which proves to be a wise decision. We sit next to the "Press Box" - which is a couple of breeze blocks, with a chunk of wood on to p and a sign that says "Press." You'll have to imagine it as the camera died as I was trying to get a picture.
Two lasses I take for girlfiends of turn up(if they weren't girlfriends of then they were perversely interested in the local football disciplinary panel). Since I've not been since the days of Tyrone Mintus, I no longer know any players by name- so I'm glad of observations like "Here comes Miller to ask the lino how much time is left so he knows how much energy to use up"

Fantastic bit of banter between the Stratford press bloke and the assistant referee. The former is not the most articulate bloke I've ever met (F*ing pass the f*ing ball! What did you shoot for, you can't f***ing shoot!). The latter is a big bald bloke who occasionally obscures my view, but I'm not gonna complain.
Flashpoint is the arrival as a substitute of a guy called Bailey, who moves well for a lad who I am sure I saw necking a pie in the bar at half time. He's been on for about 38 seconds when he chops a guy off at the knee and gets a straight red.

As he's walking off (No 16 in picture)I listen with glee to this:
Stratford Press Guy: Lino, you are a disgrace.
[Lines man turns menacingly to face the gobshite. He was 30 yards from the decision and did not flag}
Lino: How am I a disgrace?
SPG: You're all part of the same team. I'll have to write all this up now.
Lino: What do you want me to do, tell the ref to bring him back on?
SPG: Yeah, you do that.

By that time, though, the guy had walked. Stratford's no 10, pictured being compassionate and concerned, had been the only one of their forwards to battle for the ball. So he'd been booked. And as the game wore on, he was beaten to the ball and chopped his opponent in revenge - then walked off before he could be shown his second yellow.
Couple of smart counter attacks from Oadby. One lad surged forward and smacked the post. Another rounds two men, then rounds the keeper, then walks into the bar for a round - well he might as well have, he certainly ran out of pitch.
Despite the bad-tempered closing stages, Oadby hold out against the nine men.
Oadby Town 2 Stratford Town 1
Probably about 78 people - I didn't count

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Go on: it's only one click!

Kept it simple today - once I'd sussed a trip to Boston for the footy was unlikely, a local park seemed a decent option. The sun was shining, so I grabbed a camera and off we went.

Inauspicious start as we park outside this notorious alleged "cottage" cum bogs at the entrance.

Park noticeboard reveals we've just missed a park users group meeting, where all the users gather. Rats!

They've put a fence round the play equipment - keep the dogs out I suppose.

You expect to walk straight into an ice-cream van in an English park in the middle of January, don't you? What could be more natural?

Apparently this woodland is some of the oldest in the county. It was locked up, though - somebody call the copse.

These beautiful early snowdrops were bathed in bright sunlight, but the cheap camera couldn't cope - so it looks like they were bathed in snow!

It did a little better with this bridge - one of several that the toddler entertained himself by crossing and re-crossing ad infinitum. And I had no more memory, so we went to play on the swings.

Rather muted stirabout today, on account of my mum dying and whatnot, but toddlers have to toddle so I grabbed my lad's camera and we drove down to DeMontfort University (Leicester Poly for those of us who can remember further back than last week). These aren't my favourite buildings in the world, but each to their own.
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Walked up past the hospital/ almshouse thing towards Newarke Houses.

This place has been shut down for nearly two years, but enjoys taunting us with its "Admission Free" tag.

Jewry Wall Museum is also shut, and walking past Leicester's shut museums on a grey January day is no kind of antidote to incipient feelings of bleakness. We diverted into Leicester and Domino's toyshop, where things began to look up. The lad enjoyed watching the train weave its way round the track above goods, and I enjoyed browsing through the toys. I quite fancy a magnetic responsibilty chart for the teenagers in the house...

...though I can't really see the point of these anodyne looking rejects. Surely "monocultural puppets" would be more appropriate; they seem to have no character or personality at all, other than looking exactly the same.

The "It's Political Correctness gone mad Health and Safety nonsense" brigade would have had a field day. These "Lace-up lads" carry a warning that they are not suitable for children under 3 due to an "Entanglement Hazard."

We hung out with the bear

and then the boy played with the trains

while we availed ourselves of the new cafe. A Latte, a smoothie made out of cranberries and stuff and the engine (makes a noise AND lights up) I bought for F. I know photographing your food is irredeemably naff, but once you've started photographing items in a toy shop you know you are beyond the pale.

The whole of Leicester seems to have fallen victim to a post-12th Night curse, as the whole city still has its decorations up - this sad leaning tree outside Rackhams just one example.

By now it was getting dark and we walked back along the river in time to watch Leicester beat Tottenham, wondering throughout why it was peeing it down there and we didn't see a drop of rain all day.
Not the most thrilling day of my life, but it was never going to be -you know?

It's difficult to catch top sporting figures in action when they move so fast, so I think you have to admire the way I've captured the fluidity, grace and movement of duckfeeding in the banner to yet another completely unnecessary blog.

Why do we people bother?

Anyroad, here's today:
Woke to find that last night's festivities had left a rocket on the lawn, and it seemed to be pointing into Leicester, so that's where we went.

Once we got down to the river (parked by the painfully punning pub, The Soar Point - they hate children) we began some serious swan feeding. As we have already established, the birdlife moves with lightning speed down there, but I've attempted to capture the essence of these restless creatures:

Down by the riverside there's some tweely renovated industrial property that's at least got a bit of patina about it:

There are points where old meets new - the building on the left used to be the Pex factory, I think, part of Leicester's flourishing hosiery trade, but it's now providing smart urban living for smart urban folk. On the other side of the river is Castle Park, with a Battle of Bosworth statue and St Mary De Castro
church dating from 1107. Right between these two extremes is Brucciani's, making and serving confections of delight to Lestoh folk for over a hundred years I think...

Get's a bit more street as you go North - this is the outside of Kirby and West's Dairy, and their fleet of milk floats:

We traipsed past some more post-industrial architecture:

The blokes in Abbey Park were playing with the trains, as per, seemingly enencumbered by the need to provide train rides for anyone else but themselves.

By now it was getting late. The only thing to do was go. Jack Kerouac wrote that. If only he cudda seen us!