MARINE LIFE

POET CHRIS TOWERS WATCHED MARINE PLAY BRADFORD PARK AVENUE IN THE NORTHERN PREMIER LEAGUE IN FEBRUARY. HE WRITES OF A CLUB CLOSE TO ITS COMMUNITY

- POET CHRIS TOWERS

THERE he was, taking a swig from a beer bottle, camped out in the back garden watching his team Marine play Bradford Park Avenue the other side of the garden fence.

No, he was not watching it on television or on the internet, but by the potted plants rather than on a sofa. I watched him as I sat high in the stand at the end of the goal at the home of Marine FC. This ground is not far from the river Mersey, in Crosby, a few miles north of Liverpool and this day it was bathed in sunshine.

I could see the local fan in all his detail, sitting there in his own 'grandstand' or 'executive box' by the garden shed.

I was there partly to write a poem for my next volume of 'Hinterlands', available in the autumn.

Yes, a labour of love but it's not always easy to find a key focus. Yes, there are many images, many metaphors, sights and sounds to capture and express in print but it is not always that easy to find that one vital image that captures the occasion.

I found it however in the sight of that spectator decked out for the match in the confines of a back garden, expressed in the opening lines of my poem:

There was I, perching with squinting eyes, watching with a sun too high for February, up in the stand at Rossett Park.

Watching trains snake through sidestreets to Crosby beach and Blundell sands where Gormley statues stand, looking at the sea.

While I was there to write the poetry for my regular column in The NonLeague Paper, my interest was wider than that.

I wanted to know this club and took a train from Liverpool South Parkway to Blundellsands and Crosby on the Mersey Rail to get there.

Rossett Park stands on the nearby College Road, with the hustle and bustle of the high street with cafes and pubs.