Belper Town 2-1 Carlton Town

We exit the car park at Consett AFC and head towards the city of Durham. The visitors from Manchester, Wythenshawe Town, can feel flattered that they only lost 1-0. Consett will entertain Lutterworth Town, from Leicestershire, in the next round of the FA Vase. On the Road to Wembley.

I get anxious, feel my stomach churning and butterflies kicking in, as I flick on Five Live's Sports Report. My team, Lincoln City, were 1-0 up earlier in the afternoon when I last checked my phone. We've been on a dreadful run of form since Danny Cowley left (there, I said his name). I punch the air and whoop in delight when I hear that Tyler Walker has scored his 10th goal of the season, at the fag end of the game, to see us home and hosed at Nigel Clough's Burton Albion.

We check-in at the Royal County Marriott Hotel, in the city centre. There's a lovely vibe about the place as families and friends gather and Christmas parties commence. I slope off for a couple of pints, whilst the good lady powders her nose and watches Tipping Point ... lol.

I tick off The Shakespeare and Head of Steam, from out of the Good Pub Guide. I smile when I see Man Utd are 2-0 up against Man City in the tea-time kick-off - the OGS haters will be deleting back-dated tweets.

Ms Moon loves a Strongbow at a 'Spoons and I'm quite taken with guest real ales on at £2.15 a pint. A lass on Reception, at the hotel, has tipped us The Bishops' Mill on Walkergate Leisure, close to the waterfront. We're met with a scene of utter carnage - a war zone. A few skirmishes are dealt with swiftly by security. A girl sat next to us, sinks to her knees and gives a world-class performance in projectile vomiting  - on further inspection, after she's been carted off, it seems the Purple Rain cocktail hasn't gone down too well, as it trickles its way down towards the front gate.

It's Tuesday evening and I've just hopped onto the No.27 bus into town (Nottingham). It's teeming it down with rain and I've time on my hands. I don't usually watch football through beer goggles, but I fancy a couple of jars in the Six Barrels Victoria. The rain eases off as I wander through town and onto London Road, passing Hooters, where I had a good night out with the Ideagen Baby squad, a few months ago, for the Man Utd v Arsenal game.

Sticky Palms' track record at The City Ground in the last few years has been nothing short of abysmal. My usual sparring partner, Sticky jnr (my lad) has opted to attend a spin class rather than sit with Dad and put himself through the wringer, watching his beloved Tricky Trees. He usually boots the seat in front of him when the inevitable winner or equaliser is scored late on in the game, during our visits. The away fans get the middle finger, Rodney Trotter style, as he exits the stadium, with Dad usually sheepishly trudging behind him- *read recent NFFC v Hull City blog for said scenario*

I take my seat in 'B' block of the Peter Taylor Stand,  There's a subdued mood around the joint, despite a tune from the cult punk band the Sex Pistols booming out of the sound system. An injury-ravaged Middlesbrough could roll over and surrender, to lift my City Ground curse.

Forest never really get going. I've had enough viewings to form an opinion. Their game is possession-based. Very few players are prepared to take a risk apart from the impressive Sammy Ameobi. They take a 1-0 lead with a header from Lincoln-born Ryan Yates, a boy who was at the Academy at 7 years old. They fail to go for the jugular and finish the visitor's off. The inevitable happens when a pinpoint pass cuts the defence in two. Jack Robinson clips the heels of an attacker, leaving Paddy McNair to do the rest, with a spot-kick which earns Jonathan 'Bungalow' Woodgate's 'Boro a point they barely deserve.

There's a cameo role for £13 million record signing Joao Carvalho. I've been berated in the past on this blog by Tricky Trees fans for my criticism of the diminutive, light-weighted Portuguese attacking 'midfielder'. He flatters to deceive and his stats don't add up. Martin O'Neill tried to move him on and it appears that Sabri Lamouchi's patience is running out too.

It's Friday and the day of the Christmas Office Party. I'm the oldest by a country mile in the Inside Sales team at Ideagen PLC. I'm duty-bound to keep an eye out on the Baby Squad. We've booked an area at Southbank City, on Friar Lane, for a bargain-priced £5 per head, which includes some finger food. I fire an email out to one and all to say it might be worth having some snap before hitting the 'Sauce,' I've seen one or two stretcher cases in 35 years worth of festive celebrations.

A good night is had by all 35 of us. We're made very welcome and are well looked after by the bar and catering staff. 'Our Joe' (second born) has been potting a few. A bloke at the bar waves me over and says he'd like to talk to me about Non-League football. I ask as to how he's aware of my interest. "Oh, that's easy mate, your lad told me, he's over there chatting up my daughter."  I make a sharp exit. The party moves onto the Slug and Lettuce in the Market Square (the artist previously known as Yates's Wine Lodge.' It's where the night ends for Sticky Palms. Grime music does my duck in!

Ms Moon is propped up by the wall of the Ned Ludd public house on Friar Lane and is looking worse for wear (Office Party too) We get her belted up in the back seat. I try to chit chat with the West Indian taxi driver, but he's not having any of it and prefers to listen to his FBI files podcast about bank robbers on his phone. I can't even distract him when I drop out a gem that Sir Vivian Richards was a guest speaker at my local cricket club the other week.

'The Princess' is 'lying in state', looking ghost white and unresponsive in the morning. I check her pulse before firing up the grill and knocking up an award-winning Cumberland sausage sandwich. The fridge is stocked up with a recent shipment of Beer 52 craft ales, so all's good for this evening's Strictly Come Dancing final. The good lady fails a late fitness test, missing out on a trip up to Belper.

I head up the M1 and turn off at Junction 28 onto the A38. Juliette Ferrington is reporting from Anfield for Five Live as rock bottom Watford miss a hatful of chances. First port of call is the Dead Poets Inn at Holbrook, up in the Derbyshire hills. I enjoy a pint of Cascade real ale in front of a roaring fire at this cosy pub, with its nooks and crannies.

I pay to park the car in Belper as parking looks limited at the ground. Belper is a town in the Amber Valley district of Derbyshire with a population of just over 20,000. It was well known for its nail-making and textile mills. It's a safe Tory seat with a majority of over 15,000 (incredibly Mansfield is the same too #BREXIT). Notable folk born or raised in Belper include: Timothy Dalton (James Bond), Tracy Shaw (Maxine Peacock off Corrie  .... "I say Ashley") Ron Webster (ex D***y County, 455 League appearances) and Suzy Kendall (first wife of Dudley Moore),

Belper Town are nicknamed The Nailers and were founded in 1883 (a year before my beloved Lincoln City). They play their games at Christchurch Meadow. I haven't been in over 13 years. Skelmersdale Town, from the north-west, were the visitors. They had a tricky winger playing that day whose quick feet, pace and footballing prowess blew my mind. His name was Craig Noone who went onto play for Plymouth, Brighton, Cardiff and Bolton. It was reported that Cardiff splashed out £1 million for his services - I can't arf pick 'em.

It's £9 on the gate (sorry Belper, you're a great club, but £9, even in Tory Land is too much), I don't bother with a programme and there's no sign of a raffle ticket or 50/50 draw person. The ground is a snorter with the backdrop to the mill a standout feature.

The Nailers have enjoyed a profitable FA Cup run. They pulled a plum tie, out of the hat, away at Notts County. Have a look at Danny Gordon's strike on youtube. Carlton, the visitors, a place I now reside in, have been the League's surprise package this season. They arrive here, though, on the back of a heavy loss to Leek Town last week. It'll be good to see if there is a positive reaction.

There isn't. The Millers are bullied early doors by a towering forward line. They panic in possession and flap around at set-pieces. They are in debt to 'keeper Jack Steggles and his acrobatics that the score is kept to 1-0 on 44 minutes. Carlton have a corner that's cleared to Belper centre forward Evan Garnett, who is being marshalled by two defenders. He shows them a clean pair of heels and puts Belper 2-0 up. I daren't even look at Tommy and Mark (Carlton Management) they'll be sick to the pit of their stomachs that 'we' couldn't run the clock down for half-time.

Whilst Tommy and Mark get the blow torch out, I go for a warm-up in the clubhouse. I notice Tranmere Rovers are down to ten men at Sincil Bank. I'm alerted by Barthez (whose kind offer of a free ticket I declined this morning) that NFFC are 0-4 down to the Owls at The City Ground.

The Millers of Carlton, fresh from the 'hairdryer' treatment, go through the gears and up the tempo in the second half. Tom Maddison (ex Keyworth Utd) is spraying the passes around the park and cult blog legend Oliver Clarke (Sticky loves him to bits) struts his stuff with his 50/50 wins, surging runs, deft touches and intelligent play,

Maddison cooly dispatches a penalty kick as Carlton turn up the heat. The game's best player is Niall Davey, a roaming left-footer for The Millers. He's found space and wriggled his way through a sea of players all afternoon. How he hasn't been spotted higher up the Pyramid, God only knows. The Belper bench is alerted to this. A coach bellows out instructions to all and sundry to pick up 'Number 11.'

Time runs out and the final whistle is blown by a referee who has been harangued all afternoon. Belper shade it, as Carlton pay the price for a poor first-half showing. I've loved every minute of it. What an advert it has been for the Non-League game.

Attendance: 237

Man of the Match: Niall Davie