too many faces worrying along the newly paved path , throwing glances in polished , well-lit shop windows at the price tags of modern success , success in instalments with free fitting , a cold breeze from the football pitch that tenaciously clings on between the garages and warehouses and backsides of shops , swallowing the shit , the plastic bags and motor oil cans , the occasional shell of a car and a host of snakeskin durex that smell of rubber , old men and inquisitive thirteen year old girls , a sweaty mixture of football , fun and fear , the last rag of land before hag-ey 's symmetrical aluminium disgrace .