Carlton Town 2-1 Heaton Stannington

We've had a super afternoon out at Denaby Main FC, up near Doncaster. It really is one of the great grounds that's enriched by its warm community and investment in youth. We sail down the A1 and A614. There's no time for a real ale at the Old Volunteer. As Ms Moon switches on the TV for the latest gossip on 'Strictly' - let's face it there's been plenty - Sticky Palms leaps into action in the kitchen. I listen to a few indie tunes as I prepare Korean fried chicken, in a gooey sauce. It gets a thumbs up from Ms Moon. It's Paul Merson's footwork that fails to impress the judges on 'Strictly.' 

I fly out of the shop on Monday evening and jump on a 58 bus into town. I don't usually partake in any alcohol prior to a game - even less so on a Monday evening. I grab a little cheeseburger from Five Guys on Long Row and then make the half an hour walk to The City Ground through the Meadows inner city area of Nottingham, where many great footballers grew up.

By 6.30 pm I'm hanging around on the embankment, by the river, at the rear of the Trent End. It's another 30 minutes before the turnstiles open - God knows why they were faffing around so much. I'm a guest of Jonny's, who is with Sonya and their boys Aidan and Elliot.I've plenty of sweets from the shop to keep us fuelled.

I love watching the warm ups - you can learn a lot. There's a shooting drill at the 'keeper which involves the Brazilian shot stopper Carlos Miguel blazing a succession of efforts wide of the target. I'd be interested to see how good the gangly 6' 8" netminder is with his feet when he finally gets his chance.

The Tricky Trees aren't happy with the Premier League following some controversial decisions this season. The Big 'Un (Marinakis) is banished from the stadium for five games after an unsavoury incident in the tunnel where some phlegm ended up on the floor, close to the officials feet, following a 1-0 reverse to Fulham. Manager, Nuno Espirito Santo, has a three match touchline ban and fans' favourite, Morgan Gibbs White, is serving the second game of a two match ban.

A winless Crystal Palace arrive in Nottingham short on confidence and goals. They match NFFC in the first 45 minutes. They are particularly strong in the middle of the park where ex Ram, Will Hughes, (heckled all game) and Eze shine like a beacon. Jonny says at the break that one goal will win this. It comes from in form New Zealand striker Chris Wood, whose effort is helped into the net by Dean Henderson, who is slow to react. It strengthens the case that 'Hendo' is suspect to daisy cutters from distance. Forest are excellent from then on, although Palace do force a couple of great saves from the Belgian, Matz Sels.

I'm down at Carlton Town's Stoke Lane ground on Tuesday evening. It's been a wretched, emotional and sad week for all connected with the Millers. It was announced last Saturday afternoon, prior to the game at AFC Emley, that Club President, Roger Smith had passed away. Roger had held the role for over 20 years and was very popular with the staff, players and supporters at this great Club. Thank you for everything you have done Roger. We all come together, prior to the game, to remember Roger. It's a touching and moving moment.

I'm always pessimistic when a few big game players are missing. Lamin Manneh and Nat Watson are absent this evening. It's 1-1 at the break and has been an excellent advert for Step 4 football. The second half is scrappy and disjointed. A late goal breaks our hearts. Let's see if they have the character to bounce back on Saturday after a miserable week on and off the pitch.

Wednesday afternoon is spent with my backside firmly planted in Seat 9. on Row C. in Screen 4. at Broadway Cinema. The Count of Monte Cristo is a three hour epic. It's about the captain of a ship who is framed for treason. After escaping from prison, 14 years later, he seeks vengeance on the three people who fitted him up. It's a great film, if you get the chance, and yep, there's subtitles - French innit.

Ms Moon kicks off on Wednesday evening when news emerges that 'The Farm' and Corrie have been taken off air and replaced with a women's international football fixture between England and Germany. I inform her that the Germans are 2-0 up after 10 minutes - "I don't give a flying f**k" she replies. Ooh ... touchy.

It's early on Thursday morning and I'm enjoying a full English breakfast at the Hungry Pumpkin with my sparring partner, Tony Mac. Two hours later we are alighting an Avanti West Coast train at Coventry station. Back in 2021 Cov was U.K City of Culture. You can tell the landscape has had a spruce up as we leave the station and head up to the city centre.

Coventry lies on the River Sherbourne and is the tenth largest city in England. Notable people born there include: Lady Godiva, author Lee Child, golfer Laura Davies, sprinter Marlon Devonish, ex Sky Blues manager Bobby Gould, Terry Hall, singer Hazel O'Connor (got to love 'Will You') and finally Carlton Town legend Alan Murphy, who I can categorically state has never mentioned that Coventry City won the FA Cup in 1987 - they nicked Lincoln City's finest ever defender, Trevor Peake. 

I've a couple of CAMRA heritage pubs to tick off. The Old Windmill is on historical Spon Street. As well as the medieval buildings, which somehow survived the bombardment of the German Luftwaffe in the Second World War, there is some impressive street art too.

We stand in awe looking at the spire of the cathedral and the ruins. The area is mobbed with tourists. We chance upon the plaque where Coventry City FC's Highfield Road ground once stood, in Signet Square. I remember one encounter, when on an away day with NFFC back in 1986. Forest lost 1-0. Despite this, the natives were restless. The area around the ground wasn't particularly inviting. We got ambushed by 50 or so of their finest. I broke Roger Bannister's sub four minute mile in a sprint back to the station. Even Marlon Devonish wouldn't have caught me up.

When I think of Cov, The Specials and The Selector immediately spring to mind. We wander up to the 2 Tone Museum and take a trip down memory lane. We finish off in a few more of the fantastic pubs listed in the Good Beer Guide.

I arrive home to find Ms Moon in floods of tears. I look at the TV screen to see a distressed Chesney off Corrie being told by a health inspector, from Weatherfield Council, that there had been several breaches of hygiene whilst that buffoon Kirk was left in charge, for a short while, at Prima Doner kebab shop, and that they were going to issue a closure notice. The Herbert was chopping tomatoes up without wearing protective gloves. There's going to be no 'bab meat and chilli sauce for Schmeichel the Great Dane for a while.

I'm back down Carlton Town on Saturday afternoon. The clouds part and the sun peeps through as I show my season ticket at the gate. I get gassing to 'Dorking Paul' before joining 'Casually Dan' and Nige for a beer and music catch up. We're joined by Max Bailey from Emma's Ground Guide blog.

Nottingham Forest midfielder Elliot Anderson is at today's game as his brother plays for the Newcastle-based team. The visitors knock the ball about and look organised, but find themselves 1-0 down at the break. Casually Dan plays a Northern Soul set at half time as the crowd catches up on the latest scores.

Cream always rises to the top. Ollie Clark breaks through on goal, he steadies himself before firing the ball home. The visitors deservedly pull one back, but despite intense pressure they can't force home an equaliser.

Man of the Match: Ollie Clark

Attendance: 215

Rest in Peace, Roger Smith x

Denaby Main 1-1 South Elmsall United Services

It's Tuesday lunchtime and I'm on duty at Nottinghamshire's number one paper shop. It's a wee bit quiet as it has been caning it down with rain. One of the regulars comes through the door, at first, I thought, to shelter from the inclement weather. The lady rummages around in her handbag. She opens her purse and hands over a couple of lottery tickets without saying a word. The first is a Lucky Dip winner, the second comes up with a message on the terminal which says 'please ring the National Lottery hotline.'

I relay this instruction to the customer as my heart starts to beat ten to the dozen. I check the winning numbers from the previous draw, that was held on Saturday evening. The customer's ticket matches five out of six numbers that were drawn. The number that doesn't match on her ticket is 12. What makes it worse is that it's 11 that has come out. How unlucky is that? £1,700 isn't a bad return for a £2 stake. The lady leaves the shop smiling like a Cheshire cat.

I lock up the shop at closing time and head down Front Street towards one of Lincoln Green's flagship pubs, Robin Hood and Little John. I enjoy a couple of pints of real ale with 'Red Dog Roly.' He's just returned from a groundhopping trip to Cork City, in Ireland. He's off to Italy this weekend to tick a few more grounds off. I spend Tuesday evening following the Mighty Millers on the excellent Bradford Park Avenue twitter feed. It appears as if Carlton Town are under the cosh. They travel back from West Yorkshire with a hard-earned point.

Thursday is the beginning of three days off. I scan the listings at Broadway Cinema, in Hockley, Nottingham, where for a £35 annual membership I receive up to 50% discount. I clock a French 1960 crime thriller called Purple Noon, starring international sex symbol Alain Delon, who recently passed away at the age of 88. Two hours running time passes in the blink of an eye.

I wander through the city centre towards one of Castle Rock's finest hostelries, the VAT and Fiddle, which also doubles up as a music venue. There appears to have been a fallout between the 'Beer Gestapo' (CAMRA) and Nottingham's largest brewer, as the Newshouse is the only city centre CR entry in the recently published CAMRA guide.

I chew over the fat with Crazy Steve for an hour or so. The busiest man in the world (Steve) has recently returned from a city break in Krakow. We move on for some tea at the Trent Bridge Inn, adjacent to the home of Notts CCC. The reason for being in this area of West Bridgford is that it's the opening night of the Notts Cricket Lovers' Society.

I handover £15 to the secretary as we enter the Long Room - this covers off seven guest speaker evenings to be held over the winter months. The first half an hour is a talk by one of the club's historians, Steve Lemottee, about Notts' County Championship winning side of 1929, which included the legendary fast bowlers Harold Larwood and Bill Voce - it would be another 52 years before Notts were to win another title.

Former Derbyshire, Durham and Notts batsman John 'Animal' Morris is the main speaker. His stories are so interesting and amusing. He was playing in the infamous Warwickshire v Durham game, held at Edgbaston, back in 1994, when Brian Lara scored 501 runs. Morris, coincidentally, scored a double century in the same game and bowled the ball to Lara that saw him pass 500.He's best known for flying in a Tiger Moth plane with David Gower during an Ashes tour game in Australia. Following the incident, he was never to represent his country again.

I breakfast at YOLK on Friday morning. I adore their woodland mushrooms and poached eggs on sourdough bread, that's toasted - bloody hell I sound like Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. Today's jaunt is because I've further unfinished business in Sheffield.

The train journey is only an hour. I've six pubs on my radar. I begin at Head of Steam and end at an independent brewhouse called Perch, who have a selection of ales on the bar from Dead Parrot. In between I mooch around the city centre admiring the street art and landmarks. I phone ahead of arrival back at HQ to see if Ms Moon fancies a dirty kebab from the Carlton Fryer. I get the green light. There's way too much to eat. Thank the Lord we only indulge every now again.

We enjoy a lie-in on Saturday morning. I'm under pressure tonight, in the kitchen as ,I've promised I'll attempt to cook Korean fried chicken. I pop into Tesco to buy some ingredients. I return with my sanity still intact.

Ms Moon has some wheels that have come with her new job. It means we can tick off a few grounds that are awkward to get to, with no train station or a limited bus service. Mark Goodier is on the Pick of the Pops show on Radio 2 - jeez, this guy could put a glass eye to sleep. At least 'Gambo' and Steve Wright had some funny anecdotes to accompany the retro sounds from days gone by.

There's a CAMRA Heritage Pub that Ms Moon has kindly agreed to drive to, that's only a few miles away from the ground where we'll be watching a game today. The Coach and Horses, at Barnburgh, is a belter. It was built in the 1930s and has hardly been altered since. I down a pint from the Don Valley Brewery before we head out to Dearne Valley Leisure Centre so I can take a snap of the old colliery winding wheel.

Ms Moon fancies a Maccies. As we queue for the junk food, events take a turn for the worse when the Radio McDonald's DJ plays Rewind by Craig David. We park outside the Denaby and Cadeby Miners Welfare Club. We squeeze through the red-painted turnstile as the players emerge from the changing rooms to the Match of the Day theme tune.

I fall in love with the ground immediately. It has the village church as a backdrop and has two covered stands on both sides of the ground. It is fully railed with hard-standing around the perimeter. Opposite the dugouts is a very smart, modern clubhouse.

The visitors, from up the road at South Elmsall, look slick from the off and begin the game well. A smart finish early doors puts them one to the good. We're stood near the visitors' bench, and surrounded by their supporters. They hurl a torrent of abuse at the man in black as a free-kick is awarded to Main. To our delight a looping header ends up in the back of the onion bag. The guy standing adjacent to us serves up a series of foul-mouthed volleys aimed at the official - "balded-head see you next Tuesday" and "you mong" are among many. The thicko is unperturbed that he's surrounded by impressionable young children. Had I been on my own, I'd have had it out with the Herbert.

'Thicko' and his entourage have moved across to the other side of the ground, as the players enter the field of play to the Northern Soul classic "Do I Love You?" by Frank Wilson. Things go from bad to worse for the visitors. There's a straight Red followed by a second Yellow card that reduces them to 9 players. I can see 'Our Man' on the far side gesticulating in another fit of pique. The comments coming from South Elmsall's bench are vile and disgusting. The more abuse that is hurled at the official the less decisions go their way - that's how dim they are.

Denaby Main don't react to the change in circumstances. Tactically they fall short, failing to take advantage of having an extra two men. The remaining nine players, despite their ill discipline, battle and work hard when concentrating on the game. There's a comedy moment when their 'keeper kisses his girlfriend whilst retrieving the ball. They deserve their point; it'll feel like a win. God help them though when the referee's match report lands on the desk of the Sheffield and Hallamshire FA on Monday morning,

Wombwell Main FC 1-1 Dodworth MWFC

I'm on the 18.36 Cleethorpes to Nottingham train with Dean Gripton. Donny have well and truly dusted the Mariners 3-0. Dean is full of cold, and has nodded off. We pull into Lincoln station where hoards of rowdy Imps fans pile into our carriage. I ask one of them how 'The Lincoln' have played. They have beaten Leyton Orient 2-1. It's a proud moment for the club as the goals have been scored by Freddie Draper and Jovon Makama, both 20 year old former youth team players.

The Lincoln fans are beer-fuelled and not particularly friendly. One is pretty wound up that I've been to Grimsby's game as a neutral, rather than watch the Imps, who I've followed for over 50 years. I explain I'm not into shelling out cash for gold memberships to secure tickets and that I'll wait until their form dips and support drops off. He says Grimsby and Cleethorpes are shitholes. "Where are you from, mate?" "Newark", he replies. "Oh." His mate brags of the pubs he's been banned from in Newark. The sewer-mouthed 'Lincoln fans' alight at Newark, leaving relieved passengers to a peaceful final leg of the journey.

It's Tuesday morning and I'm tidying up the magazines at the paper shop. The front page headline on What's On TV is 'Tragedy for the Dingles' - I tip Ms Moon off on 'The Farm' TV spoiler. I say that the Dingles are all invited to Sam's for Christmas dinner and that the buffoon undercooks the turkey, so they all end up with food poisoning - Ms Moon tells me to shut up and grow up. There's a lovely moment later in the day when I inform a surprised elderly lady customer that she has won £92 on a Lucky Dip lottery ticket.

Faggsy picks me up outside the Nags Head at the bottom of Carlton Hill. It's been hosing it down with rain all day. We're ten minutes away from West Bridgford's Regatta Way ground when a text alert goes off on my phone. The message is from their manager Russ Cousins, "sorry mate, game OFF"

We drive over Clifton Bridge. Our last roll of the dice is Clifton All Whites. If any pitch can survive this deluge, it's theirs. The good sign is that the floodlights are shining brightly. A bald-headed fella, soaked to the skin, is packing away some training balls. The legend that is James 'Tosh' Turner confirms the game is on.

We stand/sit in the only covered part of the ground. Big Glenn takes the piss out of me for the first 45 minutes. On the pitch All Whites look in fine fettle. They are cruising at 2-0 up until they concede a sloppy goal on the stroke of half-time, to managerless Dunkirk, who have gone through two gaffers already this season as 'Fawaz' pulls the trigger. 

Clifton look to have it sealed at 3-1, but they have looked ill at ease with the direct tactics of the opposition. Failure to deal with the long (hoof) ball sees the 'Dunkirk Spirit' grab a deserved 3-3 draw. Callum Orange is particularly impressive with his tireless running down the channels.

Not many folk travel to Grimsby twice in five days. I'm back on the train, and on my way up to North East Lincolnshire. I've some unfinished business in the town, and the neighbouring seaside resort of Cleethorpes. As I wander out of the station, The Yarborough Hotel comes into view. This 'Spoons hotel was purpose built in the mid 19th Century for the railway industry. It's the first day of the 'Spoons Beer Festival Week. Despite not being a massive fan of their owner, I take advantage of a £1.79 mango pale ale whilst charging up my phone, with a full day of google map navigation about to burn my battery. A miserable pensioner, sat behind me with his mate, remarks, "bloody skinflint ,using the pub electricity."

I'm keen to keep out of the pub(s), seeking instead to see what Grimsby has to offer. 69.9% of the district's folk voted to Leave the EU in 2017 - even more astonishing is that in the 2019 General Election a Conservative MP was elected to represent Great Grimsby. Looking at the buildings in disrepair, endless 'To Let' signs and deserted streets, those voters have reaped little reward. It's a town that's been forgotten and let down.

I stride out of the centre towards Grimsby Docks. Tesco Extra comes in handy for a pee stop. The size of the store has certainly had an impact on the demise of the town's high street. I wander over a bridge, which underneath lies the River Freshney, which flows into the Humber Estuary. Adjacent to Sainsbury's supermarket, on Alexandra Dock, is the Grimsby Fishing Heritage Museum, which was funded to the tune of £1.5 million by the European Union in 1991. I walk past the Port of Grimsby Port Offices which is plastered with 'To Let' signs. There's an impressive statue of Prince Albert across the road. 

I chance upon a blue plaque on Grimsby Road, at the birthplace of songwriter Rod Temperton. He penned the songs: Thriller by Michael Jackson, Give Me The Night, by George Benson and James Ingram's US number 1 hit, Baby, Come to Me. I pop into a few boozers in Cleethorpes that are Good Pub Guide entries. A chippy tea is spent at the wonderful Oceans - thanks for the nod, Danny.

I've walked ten miles by now and I'm feeling it in my legs. It's another 4 miles to Grimsby Borough's ground at the Bradley Football Development Centre. I call for a cab. As I stroll into the clubhouse I clock Malc Brown, Dad of fans' favourite Dan Brown, and Stuart, owner of Non League top dog Joey, known affectionately to Carlton Town fans as 'Barton.' More Carlton supporters trickle into the bar including: 'Chief Wiggum', 'Herr Harlow', Danny Bhoy, Jonny Hand and his lad Aidan, 'Clubshop Ken', Pete, Dylan, Adam and Dean.

I broke down in tears at home the previous evening. Ms Moon tried to console me. The Farm was put on pause as we broke into a new box of Kleenex tissues. She didn't understand they were tears of joy, elation and celebration with the social media announcement of the return to Stoke Lane (on loan) of blog legend Ollie Clark ('The Carlton Cattermole') - Ollie can put a tackle in and ain't shy in offering his thoughts on the standard of officiating to the referee or assistants. He's bulked up and playing further up the field too. He's heavily involved in the early exchanges which sees the Millers take the lead through the in-form Lamin Manneh.

I notice Borough make an early substitution. A bald-headed fellow comes on to replace the right back. It's Bradley Wood, once of Lincoln City. In 2018 he was banned from football by the FA for six years, for spot betting offences, having been deliberately booked on at least two occasions so he and his friends could benefit from placing bets with various bookmakers. Lamin taunts him and teases him, inviting the tackle. 

The lads see out the second half superbly. They cope admirably with a string of substitutions as injuries and fatigue take their toll. The boys that come on run themselves into the ground and do no harm to their chances of starting on Saturday. The battle-hardened back four and 'keeper are commanding and resolute. It's a happy car journey home. Thanks for the lift Alan - good choice of radio station too.

I have to face the music on Thursday morning. I've cheated on my Bosnian barber, Mr Eko, by having a previous trim at The Cutfather on Upper Parliament Street. I cough up and ask for forgiveness. I give a generous tip. In return I get a nice head massage and neck rub - and no, he didn't try to strangle me.

It's a quiet Friday evening. I meet Ms Moon for a couple of scoops in 'Spoons up on Carlton Hill. Their ''Beer Festival' is in full flow. I try a real ale from Japan that is quaffable. I follow it up with a can of Blue Monkey craft ale - I should have known better, the can is two months out of date. I rustle up a curried fish pie for supper which goes down well with the judges.

I'm washing the breakfast pots as the Big Man pulls up ten minutes shy of 11 o'clock. It's back oop North again; South Yorkshire to be precise. The Big 'Un is feeling fresh as a daisy after a few days in the Reef last month. He's back over there in November and for Christmas too, the jammy so and so.

The M1 is playing up. It's 12.30 by the time we pull up outside Tunstall Cross Fisheries - which has the Matt Limon seal of approval. I immediately unsettle the owner of 20 years when I enquire whether the chips are cooked in beef dripping. "It would upset the vegetarians pal" says the man behind the fryer.

We pay our respects at the local cemetery to 'Busby Babe'. Mark Jones, who tragically passed at the age of 24 years old in 'The Munich Air Disaster' of 1958, and the cricketer Roy Kilner, who died of a fever having returned from India where he was playing and coaching back in 1928. It is said that 100,000 people lined the streets to pay their respects as his funeral cortege passed by. Kilner scored 1000 runs in a season 10x times and took 100 wickets in a season 5x times. He completed the double on 4x occasions.

We rock up at the ground five minutes before kick off. I take a photo of Terry (Main's manager) who is a legend in these parts. Dodworth look the better side in the first 45 minutes and deserve their half-time lead following a blunder by the 'keeper. It's a well kept ground with some lovely touches. It's raised on one side behind the dugouts with orange and black painted rails. We stand the opposite side, out of the fresh breeze.

Wombwell Main improve in the second half. The equaliser is a beautifully crafted move. They push for a winner with the 14 jacket missing a sitter with injury time approaching.

Men of the Match: Mark Jones and Roy Kilner.

Rest in Peace x

Attendance: 160

Grimsby Town 0-3 Doncaster Rovers

The sun is shining with painted blue skies as I exit a gate opened by a cheery steward, at Trent Bridge Cricket Ground. Division One County Championship status is all but confirmed for Notts. It will be Michael Atherton's old team, Lancashire CCC, that will be relegated. The irony is, of course, that Youth has kept us up. Atherton isn't shy to snipe, sneer or make cheap remarks about Super Notts. This is the guy who could put a glass eye to sleep with his Test cricket batting, and who, as England captain, was also caught red-handed, at Lord's in 1994, ball-tampering, by rubbing soil from out of his pockets onto the ball. 'Athers', the scaredy cat, fled to the Lake District with his girlfriend to escape from the baying Press pack, before being dobbed in by a hotel guest. He returned home to Cheshire to face the music. The fool somehow kept his job, escaping with a £2,000 fine. What if that was an Aussie, eh?

I'm whacked out after walking around Wolverhampton the previous day, so as I head from the ground, towards the city centre, on late Saturday afternoon, I decide to jump on a bus that drops me off on Angel Row, just off Market Square. There's a restaurant up in Hockley called Mesa that Ms Moon and I quite like dining at. Recently the head chef there has upped sticks to work at a new eatery called Raymonds, opposite the Angel Microbrewery.

I'm greeted on the door by a friendly maitre d'. Walk-ins are advertised on the website. We are shoe-horned into an eating area by the bar. The menu is small but varied. We tuck into some fried chicken, bbq lamb and a charcuterie plate. I quench my thirst with a session pale ale from Deya Brewery, based in Cheltenham, that's up there as one of my favourite craft ale taprooms of all time.

We've time to kill as the Just the Tonic comedy evening isn't due to begin until 9 pm, up at the Metronome, that's located at the bottom of Huntingdon Street. The Fox and Grapes, in Sneinton, is just around the corner. I grab another craft ale. Faggsy is in there. He gives me an update on the final hour's play down at 'The Bridge.' He's feeling rather chipper after the Pies grabbed a late equaliser up in Morecambe. He's looking forward to his midweek jaunt up to Carlisle United's Brunton Park ground to watch the Magpies. He'll also complete his final (214th) Wainwright walk, up in the Lake District the following day. That's an achievement to be proud of.

The comedy evening is a good laugh and great entertainment. There's three acts on the bill plus witty compere Jon Pearson. The Chase's Paul Sinha delivers a blistering 30 minute set. Boris Johnson and Philip Schofield are the butt of his jokes. At £18 per ticket it represents fantastic value.

There's chuff all live football worth watching on the East Midlands midweek circuit. Ms Moon is in Sussex working again. The TV set is all mine with a festival of European football to choose from. Accompanied by a glass of cheap Tesco Sauvignon Blanc wine I watch Arsenal v PSG, Villa v Bayern and Porto v Man Utd - all three are enjoyable games.

Tuesday is always a massive day at MSR Newsagents, on Front Street, Arnold, where I work part-time. It's the best job in the world folks. For 79p the publication of the day is the magazine What's On TV. The soap addicts are getting all giddy whilst queuing out of the door to bag one. The big news is that EastEnders wide boy, David Wicks, is back in the game on Albert Square. "Whatever next?" says an overexcited elderly lady, as I hand her over 21 pence change. "Probably be Ethel and Winnie the Pug dog, next", I reply, through gritted teeth, as I bid her farewell for the day.

It's Friday evening and I'm sitting in Carlton Town's Stoke Lane clubhouse on a table that includes club sponsor Jon Gilbert and Millers' assistant manager Andy Clerk. The club is raising much-needed funds after only two home League games since early August. Former Newcastle United and Nottingham Forest full back Frank Clark is tonight's guest speaker.

My favourite anecdote of the  night is superbly delivered by Clark. Following a game in London one Saturday afternoon in the 1970s,his goalkeeping colleague, Northern Ireland international Willie McFaul. invites Frank to Stringfellows nightclub in the West End, where they are due to sit on the same table as flawed Manchester United genius Georgie Best, a mate of Willie's. The recently crowned Swedish Miss World, Mary Stavin, makes a beeline for Clark, or so it seems. "Do you like to dance?", she asks Frank. "Well of course" replies a gooey-eyed Frank. "Well piss off onto the dance floor, as I want to sit with George", said Stavin  .. lol. I thank Jon Gilbert for his hospitality and wish 'Clerky' good luck for the game against Liversedge tomorrow, before jumping into an UBER, as I'm up at the crack of dawn tomorrow.

I'm on the 7.37 EMR train to Cleethorpes. Sat with me is fellow Millers fan and Football Manager Head of EFL Research, Dean Gripton. We catch up on the latest gossip since our last trip to St Andrews, a few weeks ago. Dean is the oracle on football, and great company to spend a day out with too. We change trains at Lincoln, but are soon arriving on the east coast at a sun drenched Cleethorpes.

The google reviews on Oliver's Eatery on the sea front are mighty impressive. The food is first-class and the service is five star - there 4.5 average rating is more than merited. I've only ever visited Cleethorpes on three occasions, each time I've been blessed with gorgeous weather. The first involved a pitch invasion by Norwich City fans at Blundell Park in 1986, resulting in Canaries manager, Ken Brown, being ordered by Grimsby plod to go on the microphone to plead with fans to clear the pitch so the game could be restarted. The second time was a 'Desmond' 2-2 versus Torquay United back in 2015, which was a National League game.

As we wander along the front, we stare out to sea in amazement. A car is abandoned and stranded on the beach, sinking in the sand as the tide goes out. I thought for one moment that there had been a reunion of the Derby County car share club starring: Tom Lawrence, Mason Bennett and Richard Keogh. An uber fact for you: Michael Jackson's song Thriller was written by Rod Temperton, who was born in Cleethorpes. He used to work shifts at the Ross Foods frozen fish factory, in Grimsby docks.

The game is close to being a sell out. The visitors, Doncaster Rovers, finished like a train last season due to some shrewd recruitment during the January transfer window. Grimsby have taken nine points in their last three games after impressive wins against Bromley, Carlisle and Gillingham.

Rovers blow the Mariners away in the early stages of the game. They are rampant down the left hand side. Gibson gives them a lead after two minutes. Veteran striker Billy Sharp should have doubled that after a glaring miss at the back stick after another raid down the left flank. The game is over as a contest by half-time. Donny are three to the good, whilst 'Town' are down to ten men after a needless Red card.

I bet the prawn sandwiches are top notch here in corporate hospitality. I clock Grimsby super fan, the comedian, Lloyd Griffith, in the bar at the break. He's not cracking too many jokes today, nor is Mariners manager Dave Artell who makes three changes to his team at the break.

The visitors run the clock down and play keep-ball in the second half. It gives me the chance to admire this wonderful iconic ground with its old school floodlights which can be viewed from miles around. After the final whistle is blown, Dean and I peg it a couple of miles to a bar called Docks Beers, who have produced artisan craft ales since 2018. It's packed upstairs as there is an 'Docktober' Beer Festival on. We sample a few of the superb range of ales on, as the football scores come in.

We finish off the day at The Barge in Grimsby town centre before catching the 6.30 train back to Nottingham via Lincoln. More on that eventful journey in next week's latest installment. Might even make the Whats on TV magazine Tuesday issue ..lol.

Attendance: 7,693

Man of the Match: Jordan Gibson 

Nottinghamshire CCC v Warwickshire CCC

We're driving out of the prosperous, coastal village of Saltdean, near to the city of Brighton. I stare out of the car window admiring the chalk cliffs and shingle beach. The stunning Saltdean Lido comes into view with its open-air swimming pool and public library.

Ms Moon drops her brother, Andrew and Sticky off at the Hairy Dog, a farm-based microbrewery near Haywards Heath. The good lady speeds off to Sainsbury's to buy some ingredients for a spag Bol she's preparing for supper this evening.

There's a comedy moment after I've ordered the beers up. As I quaff on my mango real ale, Andrew is about to spark up a Lambert and Butler Silver king-size cigarette. A majority of the customers are as fit as a fiddle and serious dog walkers. Not one person at the brewery either smokes or has a lighter. I laugh out loud as Andrew nervously fiddles with an unlit cigarette, until his sister returns from the shop.

Bad weather blows in overnight. Rumbles of thunder and fork lightning keep me awake. The skies look threatening as we enjoy a five star breakfast at the Orange Square on the high street near the railway station. Despite travel disruptions we speed up the train lines to London Victoria and by tube to King's Cross. A LNER high speed train drops us off at Grantham. Even the usually unreliable jokers, East Midland Trains, get us back into Nottingham on the final leg of the journey.

Football is thin on the ground this week. Not only is there little midweek action, but nothing really catches my eye for the weekend either. I hatch a plan for Saturday that will see my first blog without football since COVID in 2020 when we were all crawling up the walls. Had my biggest hits then too ...lol

Brownie points always go down well at our crib when I rustle up a dish for tea. I flick through the cooking books I amassed off the Net (probably during COVID). Thirty minute speedy midweek dinners is a crowd favourite, and doesn't half come in handy after a day at the shop selling Daily Mails whilst talking to excited Nottingham Forest supporters who are getting all giddy and dizzy about their unbeaten start to the season. 

An award-winning creamy chicken in peppercorn sauce is enjoyed during the latest episode of 'The Farm'  on Tuesday evening. I ask Ms Moon how Matt and Dolly Skilbeck are these days? She tells me to shush as Yorkshire's latest psychopath starts wielding an axe which ends being put through a door frame.

It's Wednesday and the beginning of four days off. I don't like to stand still or waste time. After hoovering, cleaning up and a general tidy around the house, I head into town. I call by MSR Newsagents on Angel Row where I grab a drink and a bag of jelly beans. The shop is open until 11pm now that the 40,000 students are back at University of Nottingham and NTU. 

The Market Square is alive and kicking. There are no expensive fairground rides or tacky market stalls. People just sit and chat with friends as the Council House clock strikes two bells. It's been a while since I used my membership card at Broadway Cinema. A subtitled French film called The Goldman Case caught my eye when going through the listings for Wednesday afternoon.

There's a controversial start to proceedings on Row E at Screen 4. A couple of students, who I might add have already cheesed me off by arriving ten minutes into the film, have plonked themselves two seats up from me. The buffoon of a bloke starts rummaging through a rucksack before unearthing a family-sized bag of cheese and onion Ringos. Not only do they stink the place out, but the noise of the crunching and rattling of the packet makes my blood boil. I feel like grabbing the bag off him, stamping on it and pouring the crumbs all over his head. I've been dead grumpy since I turned 60 ... lol

The film is a gripping real-life two hour courtroom drama - 'Chief Wiggum' at Carlton Town would have loved it. It chronicles the second trial of a left-wing activist who is charged with the murder of two chemists. The subtitles help me concentrate and not miss out on any of the plot. I won't spoil the ending, but would definitely recommend watching the film. It's highly rated on Rotton Tomatoes.

Thursday is Day One of the final Liverpool Victoria Cricket County Championship fixture between Notts and Warwickshire at Trent Bridge. Heavy overnight rain and a prolonged afternoon shower mean that there's only time for 15 overs of play. It doesn't dampen our enthusiasm as a gaggle of supporters sat in the Lower Radcliffe Road Stand including Faggsy, Drurs and 'Seadog Paul' cover off a range of topics before retiring to the Fox and Grapes for a couple of pints of Castle Rock's Harvest Pale ale.

I head towards Birmingham on a Cross Country train on Friday. I've only five minutes to catch my connection to the city of Wolverhampton that lies in the heart of the Black Country. New Street Station hasn't seen such a turn of pace between platform 10 and platform 7 since 'Tricky Trevor Francis' used to motor down the wing for the Bluenoses in the 1970s at St Andrews. An out of breath Sticky Palms jumps on an Avanti West Coast train to Blackpool North with seconds remaining.

Wolverhampton has a population of 260,000. During the Industrial Revolution it became well known for coal-mining, steel production, automotive industry and lock making. I walk out of the station to be greeted by clear blue skies and a cool breeze.

Tony Perkins, the landlord at the Partizan Tavern, in Sneinton, tipped me off that Great Western Pub is a must visit. I enjoy a pint of Holdens Golden ale at this red-bricked watering hole that's adorned with endless railway memorabilia.

I take a stroll up to Molineux, home to Wolverhampton Wanderers. As TV crews unpack their camera gear I wander around the perimeter of the ground, taking photos of statues of Wolves legends Stan Cullis, Billy Wright and Sir Jack Hayward.

The city of Wolverhampton gets a poor press in my opinion. The cathedral is a beautiful building and some of the architecture is phenomenal. As the saying goes 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder - it's created by the observer.

I wile away time in a number of the city's historical pubs. None is more famous than The Posada on Lichfield Street. It has art noveau architecture that dates back to the 19th Century. It also has a lot of drunken loud-mouthed oafs in here too, and it's only 4 pm. A customer rises above it all by playing Prefab Sprout's classic track 'Life of Surprises.'

I'm watching The The for the second time in three weeks. The venue, University of Wolverhampton, The Halls, is excellent, with a sound system superior to Rock City. Lead singer, Matt Johnson, is on fire. I love his anti-right lyrics and socialist values. I cadge a lift home. Thanks mate.

I rise early on Saturday morning. The M6. near Wolverhampton last night, was alive with blue lights hurtling towards Wolverhampton city centre - it turns out that three women were hurt in a drive-by shooting just as we left the gig at 11 pm, at an event a 15 minute walk away.There's just enough time for a greasy spoon full English fry up at The Avenues on Sneinton Market before I peg it down to Trent Bridge for a 10.15 am presentation. One of the most popular cricketers on the County circuit, and a legend at our Club and in our City, is leaving today, after a 17 year career at Notts.

Luke Fletcher says a few words to a large crowd of supporters. He says he's surprised that it's taken 17 years to finally sack him ... lol. There's hardly a dry eye in the house as Fletch leaves the field of play for the final time as the curtain is drawn on a fantastic career. The Big Man is visibly moved. Even Drurs' missus, Jude, has pitched up to show her support and wave the Big 'Un goodbye.

I chance upon my good friend Edward, who is also a supporter of the Mighty Millers, Carlton Town FC. I ask him what he has tucked under his arm. He turns as white as the newspaper sheet he reveals and starts to stutter. It's the BLOODY DAILY MAIL. I don't speak to him for ten minutes as he hangs his head in shame. I grass him up to his Dad, Jon, who arrives for the afternoon session. Jon is a big fan of the iNews paper. I suggest to Ed that he takes a leaf out of Dad's book. I accept his apology, on the condition that this unsavoury incident isn't repeated again!

Notts's season has been saved and salvaged by an 18 year old and 16 year old, as the introduction of youth begins to reap rewards. I slope off at 4 pm, crossing over the bridge as NFFC and Fulham pit their wits against one another at The City Ground. There's plenty of oohs and aahs, but it's the visitors who run out as winners. It ends the Tricky Trees unbeaten start. The customers in the shop won't be as jolly this week.

Man of the Match: Big Luke Fletcher