Frenchfield Park (Penrith)

We all criticise mercenaries in life, don’t we? Yet we’re all the same regardless of our walk of life? Sometimes we’re too eager or often not eager enough and things get in the way. People take the job that pays the most not challenges the most, comedians settle for not writing new jokes and performing with a dead-behind-the-eyes look and football ground tourists visit far flung stadia in the dead of night just to say they’ve been there.

And so I turned up at Penrith’s Frenchfield Park on the way home from a gig, eager to get one more venue under my belt regardless of there being zero visibility. Don’t get me wrong, a bit of research on Google shows it’s a pleasant enough ground set in the rolling hills of Cumbria, but I got there in the middle of the night desperate for a football ground fix. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t see a thing – in the middle of the countryside it was pitch black – I was near a big green rectangle and that was enough for me.

I was like a junkie as soon as I got out of the car. Just happy to have my hit. I didn’t care that there was literally nothing to see, being there was reward enough for me. And so, blog wise, this isn’t a great one. I can only apologise for my cavalier attitude. I think it’s safe to say it’s cost us.

I’ve borrowed some photographs of what the ground looks like during daylight. A big main stand similar to the one at West Auckland followed by a small sheltered standing area opposite that I couldn’t even see when I was there. It seems a pleasant enough arena in lovely surrounds and I’m sure one day I’ll pass during daylight to take it all in, rather than treating myself to a junkie-type fix in the middle of the night.

For now though, this will have to do.

 

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