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Rec-less
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onionbag blogger
Thursday 13 May, 2004


He went that way

Brixton Rec is a beast of a red brick building that sits perfectly within the fiery frontline of SW9. That's FRIENDLY fire of course; let's stay clear of all the shooting, stabbing and syringe stereotypes and leave them to the Evening Sub-Standard and their 'edgy' reporting, live and direct from their South Kensington suburb.

Although the original design dates back to the '60s and the 'skyscraper dream' for the town centre, Brixton Rec was built in the aftermath of the '81 riots. The Rec is a local landmark rising high above Brixton Station Road market (bootylicious DVDs from Jamaica, Nigerian fast food and some dodgy bloke bartering Gillette Sensor Excel blades - five for £2.50 - my new best mate).

Even stupid bastards need a wee wee

Prince Charles, Nelson Mandela and even Mr Tony have turned up in recent years, although I doubt if they entered the place using Piss Alley, my own preferred route of access. THE Piss Alley of SW9 links Brixton Road to the back of the Academy. Brixton Rec though boasts Piss Alley Mk II, a baby brother running up the back of the Rec and the best option for cyclists. That's cyclists who want to cycle that is, and not piss their pants in public.

If you can stomach the stench of junkie piss (even stupid bastards need a wee wee) then you're rewarded with some marvellous mosaics made by local kids adorning the walls, a recent feature that appeared last summer as part of the Destination Brixton expo.

The full onionbagblog picture guided tours stops at the gates of the Rec I'm afraid; something about public changing rooms and cameras that tells me best to keep away.

Once inside though and the facilities are fantastic; a couple of 5-a-side pitches which double up as basketball and badminton courts, a recently renovated gym, a 25m pool (watch out for the floaters and yellow warm water when the kiddies are about), cheap squash courts and a sauna that also serves as an unofficial makeshift KFC / nail bar / launderette.

There's also the bizarre sight of a subbuteo style bowling green in the basement which as one would expect from Brixton, doesn't quite provide the traditional backdrop of a Middle England bowling club. More Bring Your Own Grass then Keep Off the Grass.

All of which is still a touch too tranquil for one of the old boys I regularly chat to after a swim.

'Fours more years boy and I will 'ave made it' he once boasted.

'What, a daily swim at the ripe old age of 70?' I asked.

'You cheeky little bugger. I'm 'undread in four years time. 'Aven’t missed a day out of the water in the past sixty years.'

Blimey Charlie.

All of which leaves me feeling like the crock I am; hobbling about, body falling apart and with the very real possibility that I may have kicked my last ball in the Brixton 5-a-side hall.

Rec-less indeed.

I don't expect any sympathy but some tea would be nice.

(click on thumbs to see large image)

Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04 Brixton Rec, 13/05/04



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