So, what’s happened to our football grounds then?

Where are the delicate aromas of open urinals, Castella Cigar smoke and horse manure?

Where’s Wembley gone? What’s happened to the Boleyn, Highbury and The Goldstone?

They’ve all disappeared and many more besides.

In the next decade, more will follow as the tap roots of the game are starved of water and the canopy of the dying forest is replaced with costly artificial blooms.

When did you last look up from a London football ground and, through inky drizzle, catch a glimpse of Concordes’ delta wing as she makes her approach above the serpentine Thames to Heathrow? Quite a while.

She’s been replaced by noiseless efficient leviathans that all look and feel the same. Just like our football grounds.

Damn the corporation, damn greed and damn time.

At Turnstiles and Terraces, we have decided to celebrate an era, a special time, when football had a soul and Clubs were still firmly attached to their roots and, what’s more, bloody proud of them.

So, let us salute The Old Den, Ayresome and Roker Parks and White Hart Lane. Indeed, let us celebrate and remember all grounds that have either disappeared physically or been ruined by the monied mob.