Sunderland 3-1 Lincoln City

It's Saturday 21st December and I'm slumped in my armchair, staring out of a rain-drenched French window, at the patio, which is awash with puddles of rainwater. My bottom lip is out and proper quivering folks. I've announced on social networks (and more importantly, by mistake, in a drink-related conversation to Ms Moon) that I'm done with football until the New Year. I've clocked up 75 games for the season and need to recharge my batteries. Ms Moon has plans for retail parks, food halls, luncheon and the cinema - holy moly, pray for Sticky.

I scroll through my twitter timeline, that's clogged up with postponements and pitch inspections. I'm alerted to a 'GAME ON' tweet from Newark Flowserve, a club I've taken a keen interest in recently. Another one of my favourite clubs, Sporting Khalsa, from the West Midlands, are the visitors. I ask Ms Moon is she fancies lunch at the Prince Rupert on Stodman Street, in Newark town centre, followed by some Christmas food shopping at Waitrose. The good lady falls for it hook, line and sinker.

The game is a Christmas cracker with Flowserve romping home 4-1. We're stood next to the mother of Khalsa centre half Tesfa Robinson. They'll be no tea on the table for him when he gets home and he'll be sent straight to bed after that showing.

Like most folk, I spend Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day boozing and eating. I'm relieved to receive a text from 'The Keyworth Georgie Best' (Sticky jnr) to say he has a spare ticket for Forest v Blackburn at The City Ground on New Year's Day.

Sticky jnr and I haven't seen NFFC win (on 15 occasions) when we've sat together, since a Matt Derbyshire late winner versus 'Dirty Leeds' in December 2013. The omens don't look good as we take our seats in the Brian Clough Lower Stand, despite back-to-back wins for the Tricky Trees at Hull City and lowly Wigan Athletic at home, which by all accounts was fortuitous.

Forest take a 2-0 lead through goals by Joe Lolley and Lewis Grabban. Blackburn keep plugging away and play a beautiful game of two-touch football. They carve open the Forest midfield with the industry, lung-bursting runs and skill displayed by former Man Utd and Oxford Utd attacking midfielder Joe Rothwell. They peg one back before half time. Grabban restores a two-goal cushion with a majestic header, finishing off a flowing move. A Joe Worrall own goal breathes fresh life into the visitors as NFFC hang on in a dramatic finale.

It's Friday evening and I'm sat in my favourite taproom in Nottingham's Creative Quarter in Sneinton Market. Neon Raptor are knocking out some award-winning craft ales. I get stuck into a pint of 'Night Time Radio', a New England pale ale at 4.8% ABV. A bloke dressed in a black Harrington jacket saunters up to the bar, as Black Rebel Motorcycle Club blares out of the pub's sound system. He samples a couple of rocket fuel ales before pointing at his two taps of choice. He turns around, flashes me a smile, walks in my direction and shakes my hand.

Tony 'Dog' McDonald is a legend from my old village back in the day. He had a cultured left foot and used to manage the local pub teams in a Mike Bassett kind of style (a bit like myself  ... saying it straight). Players used to respond to his honesty, and referees were respected. I mention that I'm up in Sunderland tomorrow. 'Dog' says how much he despises Newcastle United. It's a grudge he's held since a 1974 FA Cup 6th Round tie between the Magpies and Forest which was declared void following a pitch invasion by Geordie hooligans with the score at the time being 3-1 to NFFC. Newcastle won 4-3, but on appeal, the FA made the decision for the tie to be replayed on neutral territory.

After two replays Forest lost narrowly 1-0 to a Malcolm McDonald goal at Everton's Goodison Park. We enjoy a few pints and even nip next door to the Fox and Grapes before I hop on the No.27 bus back up to Carlton, as I have an early start tomorrow as we head up to the north-east. We're on the road up to Sunderland by 9.30 a.m. We refuel with petrol and Costa Coffee at Ollerton as Helen Skelton plays the song of the day, 'It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over' by Lenny Kravitz.

One of the greatest managers in the history of the game has a memorial in the village of Hetton-le-Hole, his birthplace, that sits seven miles outside Sunderland. Bob Paisley made 254 appearances for Liverpool and went onto manage the club for nine years, winning three European Cups, one UEFA Cup, five Football League titles and three League Cup finals. The memorial stone is situated in the main park in the village. I wander up the road to take a look at the memorial for the mineworkers too.

We're soon parked up at the Premier Inn Sunderland City Centre. Back in June, when I was in a meeting at work, I received a text of all Lincoln's fixtures for the season. I immediately booked the hotel for a bargain £39 for the night on the cheapest Saturday of the year. I'm a lucky lad though, as I completely forgot it was FA Cup third round day - both clubs fell at the first hurdle.

We get well wrapped up, with a biting wind blowing in from the North Sea, and head into the city centre. Lunch is taken at the Keel Lounge where I have a hissy fit due to hearing 'She's the One' by Robbie Williams on the i-Pod shuffle three times on the bounce. I ask Ms Moon if my blood pressure tablets are in her handbag.

The walk to the ground is a joy to behold. We join thousands of fans from both clubs as we cross the Wearmouth Bridge. I take a few snaps of the Bob Stokoe statue with memories of his trademark beige raincoat and pork pie hat after their shock 1-0 FA Cup final win against 'Dirty Leeds' at Wembley in 1973.

Sunderland is a city in Tyne and Wear that sits in the mouth of the River Wear. It lies 12 miles north-east of Durham and 10 miles south-east of Newcastle. It has a population of 175,000. Notable people from the area include: actors James Bolam, and Melanie Hill, writer James Herriot, inventor of the electric light bulb, Joseph Swan, BBC War reporter Kate Adie, singers Lauren Laverne, Emeli Sande and David A Stewart from Eurythmics, footballers Nigel Clough, Michael Gray, Mick Harford, Micky Hazard, Jordan Henderson and Jill Scott and former England Test cricketer Bob Willis who recently passed away.

Sunderland AFC were founded in 1879 and are nicknamed the Black Cats. I visited their old Roker Park ground twice in the space of four days in the Easter Holidays of 1979 - one of those games was a 3-0 victory over Notts County. The biggest transfer fee they ever received was £30 million from Everton for Jordan Pickford, who I saw make a spectacle of himself at Sincil Bank earlier this season. Record transfer fee shelled out was for Didier Ndong for £17 million from French club FC Lorient. Old 'Big 'Ead, Brian Clough, scored 54 goals in 61 appearances for Sunderland in the early 60s before injury curtailed his career.

We're sat up in the Gods at a bargain-priced £20 per ticket. An excellent programme is purchased for £3. 'The Lincoln' have plummeted down the table since the untimely departure of the man who saved our Club, Danny Cowley. There has been a change in playing philosophy and an upturn in form of late with wins against Burton, Peterborough and Ipswich. The jury is out on the new incumbent Michael Appleton until he makes moves in the January transfer window.

The DJ warms up the large away following (over 3000) with ABC, Primal Scream and The Charlatans. The Lincoln fans ramp up the atmosphere with a rendition of 'Twist and Shout by The Beatles.

The warning signs for the Imps are there for all to see from the first blow of the referee's whistle. They are pinned back in their own half and survive by the skin of the teeth before the opening goal on 19 minutes, which has been threatening to arrive for a while. Poor marking from a corner sees an uncontested header converted by Tom Flanagan.

'City' are all at sea and second to everything. There's no energy or heart to their play. Sunderland's second goal on 23 minutes is comedy gold. Josh Vickers plays a short goal kick to Jason Shackell, who passes out to Harry Toffolo, who returns the ball to Shackell, who in turn passes back to Vickers on his weaker foot. Vickers is closed down quickly by a Sunderland forward. He shanks his clearance straight against his opponent, the ball loops up into the air and is nodded home by Gooch (not Graham Gooch,) although he'd have scored it too. Ms Moon looks away from me as I hold my head in hands.

The unthinkable happens six minutes later. The Sunderland 'keeper kicks the ball like a mule down the centre of the pitch, a crestfallen Shackell, still recovering from his previous faux pax, lets the ball sail over his head, Gooch pounces onto his error and finishes with ease. Not even half an hour is on the clock and we're already dead and buried. Ms Moon rummages in her handbag, but there's no sign of the BP tablets for a raging Sticky Palms.

You can hear a pin drop in the away end. The bloke next to me, who has already cheesed me off by arriving late and digging his elbows into my ribs, begins to gesticulate at Michael Bostwick as he limps off the field of play. "You don't fancy it do you Bostwick?" he shouts out before checking his phone which has an action photo of Bostwick as a screensaver. I'm aghast and lost for words at half-time (not like you Sticky). I receive a tweet from a mate at work asking if I'm in Wetherspoons Sunderland yet - on this evidence City have had a Trumpy Bolton 'breakfast' there.

The second half is a salvage job. Tyler Walker taps in his 13th goal of the season, following good work by Harry Anderson. But despite Sunderland looking nervy for ten minutes or so, the damage has already been done. "We've made 'em look like Brazil" I remark as we exit the ground with seconds remaining.

Attendance: 31,748

Man of the Match: Bob Paisley