An Introduction to Stanchion (from the debut issue of the magazine)

I cannot recall exactly when I first noticed them nor am I able to tell you about the first one that sent my heart aflutter, but I properly love a light stanchion.

Love is a broad, thoroughly unsatisfactory word for describing a wide range of human emotion — from the immediate and uncompromising love of a child to, in this case, the love of a utilitarian structure found in the four corners of hundred year old English football grounds — but there it is: love.

Metal or wood, rusty or brand new, my eyes grow wide and the pulse of my ticker picks up its pace when a set of lights first comes into view upon driving into Norwich or Macclesfield, Oldham or Exeter. This is especially true during the day, when lights are not required, when the stanchions are on standby, rising from nothing and doing, well, nothing much. When needed though, as darkness descends, the play on the pitch will be illuminated from on high, thanks to the support of stanchions below.

Welcome to Stanchion.

This humble literary zine also stands ready to shine a light onto deft skill, a soft touch, and if lucky, a thunderbolt you won’t see coming. This is not, however, an English football zine. Once in a blue moon, maybe, a piece tangentially related to sport will appear but Stanchion, while named after a both a barrier to entry and the support mechanism to illuminate action, will instead be focused on a range of topics as wide as the usage of the word love itself.

I sincerely hope the stories, doodles, thoughts, poems and photographs inside this debut issue of Stanchion will send your heart aflutter and that next time, when you spot a future issue, your eyes and heart will react in a similar fashion to the way mine do upon seeing the metal risers that tell me a football pitch is near.