Like most Sunday morning football clubs, Holbrook Swan are used to things being a bit, well, shit.

Our clubhouse is like something from a horror film. There's a hole in the away team's dressing room (kicked in by an opponent who vehemently disagreed with the red card he'd received), there are no showers and don't even get us started on the toilets. Think Trainspotting but much, much worse.

There are a hundred reasons to stay in bed on a Sunday, to avoid the mud and rain and cold and x-rated tackles. But still we turn up.

Many of us were teenagers when we made the giant leap from the relative innocence of junior football to the feral intensity of the men’s game.


It was terrifying and exciting and disorganised and, in its own way, beautiful. The addictive, beer-stained antidote to the sterility and shaven legs of the modern game.

Sunday League is bare bones football, stripped down to its grubby Y-fronts and mismatched socks. In an era of goal-line technology and unobstructed views of the pitch, it's a welcome reminder that, despite everything, the game still appeals to our most basic, tribal desires and that no, actually, heated seats and big screen replays don’t count for anything.

Disorganisation is as much a part of the Sunday game as a late tackle - but the chaos and confusion only adds to the charm.


Clockwise from top left:

Lyle Brooks - Left back
Marc Lowe - Centre back / Centre forward
Kyle Tyrer - Striker
Dean Marnell - Central midfield
David Gray - Central midfield / Club Sponsor 


We've turned up with the wrong kit, unwashed kit, wet kit and no kit at all (we wore bibs provided by a local primary school).

Then there's the parlance - the bizarre terminology that sets Sunday League apart from the rest of civilisation. Where else would you find groups of men screaming 'BOX THEM IN' and 'PUT HIM UNDER'?

Luke Holmes – Striker / Goalkeeper

Dan Last – Centre Half / Club Captain


Sunday football isn't perfect but that's why we adore it. The fact is, it's a social activity more than a sporting occasion, a chance to run off a vision-affecting hangover while spending time with friends, and an opportunity to meet people you'd otherwise have never encountered.

Josh Warwick - Centre half / Centre midfield / First team manager


With professional football drowning in its own self-importance and the Premier League squeezing the serotonin from our brains so relentlessly that we might soon have nothing left to give, the beautiful game's unrefined, warts-and-all sibling is a welcome reminder of why we fell in love with the sport in the first place.



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