It is raining over Accrington Stanley’s Wham Stadium as a hooded figure on a lawnmower glides back and forth across the grass, the sound of the petrol engine echoing around the empty stands.

Neat lines from side to side show just how much ground has been covered in pursuit of the perfect playing surface, but a lack of them along its length reveals just how much work there is left to be done. Perhaps a metaphor for the team’s superb start this season.

As the rain stops, so does the mower, and the hood is pulled back to reveal groundsman Martyn Cook. Hardly surprising considering he is the only member of the club’s ground-staff. He heads inside.

With Stanley sat third in League Two, there is reason to be cheerful, and Cook has had his own personal success to celebrate.

“It’s now been over four years since I’ve had an alcoholic drink,” he says as he makes a cup of tea.

The 46-year-old is battling alcoholism. It is a disease with no medical cure, and one that can never truly be beaten.

“I’ll always be a recovering alcoholic,” he says. “I know that I’ve got to live with this thing for the rest of my life if I want to see my family grow up. A lot of people say to me ‘what about at Christmas, can’t you have just one?’ No. You can’t. I know that if I have a drink, in six months I’ll be dead.”

4 YEARS OF SOBRIETY X — Buzzer Cook (@BuzzerCook) September 23, 2017

The groundsman has now worked at the football club for 12 years, and it was during his work here that he first became aware he had an issue.

“I had a blood test and I found out my Gamma (Gamma-glutamyl transpeptidase or GGT) level for liver function was over 2300,” Cook says. “It should be between 0 and 65.”

“But for me, probably because I was drinking, that was just a number. It didn’t bother me,” he reflects.

Going to the doctors, and then to a local service to help those who suffer from substance misuse, “ticked a box” for Cook. “I’d come home and say to my wife that I’d been, that everything was alright and that they didn’t seem to think I had that much of a problem,” he recalls. “Obviously they didn’t say that at all, but I wasn’t going to tell anybody the truth. I was in denial.

“It was getting to stage where I was literally planning my days, when to go somewhere, when I’d know that people were in certain places, so I could drink,” Cook says. “It was spiralling out of control.

“It was easy for me,” he says. “I could go to the shop at seven o’clock in the morning, pick up four cans, and come to the stadium. By half-past eight I’d have had all four cans.” Cook would then head out for more. “Knowing that the players were coming in for 10 o’clock, I’d have time to go to the shop again, get another eight cans and stash them in my cabin. I’d do a bit of work, then feel like I’d earned a drink, so I’d have another couple of cans. It was continuous.”

The groundsman describes himself as having been “in his own little bubble”, but over the space of a weekend in 2013 things became too much for Cook and he realised that he needed help.

“It got to a stage where I just thought enough is enough,” he reveals. “I was getting increasingly paranoid about different things, and it was just really surreal.

“I rang my wife up and said that I wanted to try and sort myself out properly. I went to Inspire and they got me on a course straight away.”

Cook pauses a moment. “My dad had passed away six months before, and that was a massive thing in my life. It was hard to cope with, and obviously the only thing I knew was to drink, and drink more, to try and blank it out,” he says.

“My biggest regret is that he didn’t get to see me sober,” Cook continues, visibly moved. He quickly swallows and composes himself. “That always upsets me,” he says. “That always puts a lump in my throat. But I know that he’s looking down on me now.”

Cook smiles at that. He sounds more relaxed as he talks openly about an issue that some find uncomfortable to discuss.

“I’m a big believer that if it’s out there then it does need talking about,” he says passionately. “There should be more awareness about it as an illness and we should be talking about it publicly, because it needs sorting out.

“I find it easier to talk about, but some people just don’t know how to talk to you about it, and I think that’s the thing,” Cook says. “I honestly feel better when I’ve spoken about it, whether that be for ten minutes, two minutes, whatever.”

However, the former print finisher knows that it can be difficult for a person to open up about the issue.

“I used to go to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings and you share a lot in classes, but don’t get me wrong, it works for some people and it doesn’t for others,” Cook says. “I think that’s just part and parcel of life really, so I suppose it’s down to the individual whether or not they want to talk about it.”

Stanley striker Billy Kee has made the national news, not only because his goals or his contract extension, but because of his ongoing battle with depression. Cook feels that is a good thing.

Cook says: “A bit like Billy said the other day, if people want to talk about it then I’m there for anybody. There are a lot more positives in life than there are negatives, but it’s being able to tip that balance.”

The sun begins to shine through the window, and Cook is understandably keen to return to work, but there is something he needs to say. He feels fortunate, rather than proud, of how far he has come.

“I’m lucky that my liver has righted itself, and that my GGT level is now 19,” he says. “It’s incredible really.

“I don’t really think much about how far I’ve come, but my family have been incredible,” he continues earnestly. “My wife and kids have been so good to me, and my mum, and my wife’s parents too, so I can’t really say that I am proud because it really has been a collective effort. My wife kept our family together while I was almost drinking myself to death.”

Cook, or Buzzer as everyone calls him, lives close by, and was raised in the surrounding area. Born into a family of Blackburn Rovers fans, Cook describes himself as being “the black sheep” by being a Liverpool fan. It is how his nickname came about.

“It started with Martyn, then Mart, which became Matt and then, because as a Liverpool fan I’m not too keen about Manchester United, it became (former United manager) Matt Busby. That stuck for a while,” he laughs. “After that it became Busby, then simply Buzz, and finally Buzzer. I’m happier with that. It’s better than Matt Busby anyway.”

He drains the last of his tea from his mug and heads out to get back to work, a smile on his face. He parts with some final words of wisdom.

“When I was in rehab it was always about positives and negatives, and trying to turn the negatives into positives,” he says. “Everybody has bad days, that’s human nature, but at the end of the day it’s good to be alive.”