Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Newcastle Town 2-0 Carlton Town
He returns moments later in all of a fluster. Smoke is coming out of his ears, readers, but it aint from cigarettes. The lass on the till has challenged his ID and called it fake (it was his 18th birthday a month ago). He's bashing away at the keypad on his phone. I check my timeline on Twitter to read his outrage "Absolutely disgusted with #sainsburys telling me my ID is fake #w***ers." Fair play to Sainsbury's though, they tweet him within seconds to ask if he would like to make a complaint. My boy doesn't want to get the girl in trouble though, so he declines #class.
It's been almost a month since I last ticked a ground off. I've not been myself recently, the strain of running two football teams is taking its toll, as is also a 10 day detox programme I'm putting myself through. I'm in desperate need of a football fix.
I leave the office just before noon. There's a dreadful beginning to my half day's holiday, when I switch the radio on to hear the 'Greatest Love of All' by Whitney Houston. I skip down the drive, through the back door and immediately make a beeline towards his cage. Murphy Palmer, the budgie, and Norwich City's number one fan is two years old today. I unwrap a 45p treat I've bought from Wilko's in Clifton: I like to spoil the little fella.
He's still sulking about The Zuffler's remark on Facebook. He reckoned that WBA chants of "You Fat Bastard" during the Canaries 2-0 win at The Hawthorns, were directed at the wee man. I've got to admit he has put a bit of timber on. It's his winter coat.
The ruddy face and faithful plastic litre bottle of dry cider are on his person. He enquires whether we have got tickets for the Carlton end. He's proud to announce he can now put his own pants on, without Mrs Trumpy having to give him a helping hand. He tested his new hip out on Lincoln's notorious Steep Hill. He passed with flying colours, having had a tipple or two at the many hostelries in the City.
Trumpy has been up since the crack of dawn waiting for the BT engineer to bring him into the 21st Century. His late arrival scuppered any chance of a lunchtime session at the Keyworth Tavern. He waxes lyrical about the weekend in Brighton. He chanced upon Mr and Mrs Nugent, the parents of Leicester star striker David Nugent. "What a charming and down to earth couple they were" he remarks between large swigs of cider.
We've soon spotted signs to the ground of Newcastle Town, which is actually situated in Clayton. Newcastle under-Lyme is a market town in the county of Staffordshire, with a population of 73,000. Cricketer Dominic Cork and footballer Robbie Earle are one of their own. The town, back in the day, was well known for hat-making, silk, cotton mills, coal mining and brick manufacturing.
We can see the well lit ground, with the stand-out feature being the velodrome, in the distance. After doing a couple of laps we finally chance upon a turning into the ground.
I leave Trumpy watching Munich v City as I start to make my own enquiries. Carlton manager Les McJannet says that kick off will be delayed by half an hour. The ground is gobsmacking, with its panoramic views and quirky stands. It looks even better under the lights.
Bolton staggers out the bar as the teams kick off, I've already walked the circuit once. If I'd bought my bike I could have cycled the velodrome. He scans the teamsheet and enquires where Shearer and Ginola are. I have to explain it's Newcastle Town and not United we're watching.
He starts chatting to an elderly gentleman from Nottingham, who bless him, has forgot to put his teeth in. Neither of them can understand a word they are saying. Newcastle (Town) take the lead with a cleverly executed goal. A corner is played back towards the full back, who smashes his shot through an army of players and past an unsighted 'keeper. Sticky and Trumpy don't do 0-0s.
We watch in disbelief as City overturn a two nil deficit with a James Milner winner. "This is taking the match-fixing saga a bit too far" remarks a sozzled Trumpy. Newcastle score early doors in the second half and also see a penalty attempt screwed horribly wide. Carlton continue to look lacklustre. Their best attempt, from former Notts County scholar Alex Troke, is beaten away by the home 'keeper.
Trumpy has caused quite a commotion amongst the home officials when enquiring about the purchase of a hot pie. The blazers start to squabble with one another on why they have run out. We sneak out with five minutes to go, as Carlton are never going to trouble the scorers this evening.
Man of the Match: Trumpy Bolton