It's 9.30 a.m. on Sunday 19th January. Ms Moon and I are slouched in a booth at a Frankie and Benny's diner on a soulless industrial estate in Lenton, an inner-city suburb of Nottingham. It's a complete change of scenery to West Bridgford or Mapperley; our usual go-tos for breakfast or brunch.
Steve Wonder's 'Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm Yours' is on the dukey, as a surly waiter punches our order into a mobile device. I stare out of the window at Showcase Cinema's empty car park as Ms Moon cranks up the coughing and spluttering. The good lady makes a late call. She won't be joining me for the 10.30 a.m showing of the Sam Mendes epic war film 1917, as it wouldn't be fair to annoy other cinema goers with her hacking cough.
The lady on the counter asks me if I'm 60. I explain that I've had a poor night's sleep and apologise for my Ken Dodd hairdo (I'm 55 and 7/8 btw). She asks if I want to be 60. By jove I do. I take a seat in the Showcase XPlus auditorium. I think back to when you could smoke a whole packet of Gold Leaf ciggies during a double bill of Tommy and McVicar at the Classic Cinema in 1980, on Market St, back in the day.
Only 50 odd people have rocked up for the early showing. Despite this, some clown decides to sit right next to me, noisily rummaging around in a bag of sweets, undoing the wrappers and chomping on them with his gnashers (dentures). I mutter under my breath and move a few seats down the row.
Two hours fly by, as 1917 proves to be a captivating and riveting watch. The film preys on my mind as I emerge into the daylight. I'm chauffeured into town by Ms Moon where I enjoy a couple of pints of Pentrich ales.
1917 didn't half whet my appetite for more. 'The Carlton Barry Norman' returns for a Tuesday tea-time matinee showing of Guy Ritchie's action crime comedy The Gentlemen. Five Guys, spookily located next to Showcase, has to be ticked off (again). I'm tucked up in bed at just gone 9 p.m. listening to Chelsea v Arsenal on Five Live - Love Island is on downstairs and I ain't watching that wack.
Nottingham Forest v Reading is Wednesday evening's entertainment. I use that word loosely as Sabri Lamouchi's tactics are baffling and painstaking to view at times. He loves a 'George Graham' 1-0 win, but his team often aren't equipped to see a game out.
I plonk myself in 'D' Block of the Peter Taylor Stand. Leeds and WBA are stuttering in the form table. Tonight is an opportunity for NFFC to make their mark and put pressure on the leading pack. Morale is high where I sit; a win is expected.
The first half is dire, with hardly a shot on goal. It will be a 45 minutes remembered for a masterclass of long-range passing by North Yorkshire born defender Michael Dawson, who was scouted by Forest on York Racecourse in 1997, at the age of 14 years old.
Reading set their stall out and don't look particularly interested. Mark Bowen, their manager (from the Mark Hughes stable) whinges and moans at the fourth official for most of the evening, as his team plonk 11 men behind the ball and stifle the game.
The Tricky Trees think they've won the game on 80 minutes. A cross comes in from the left, Sammy Ameobi scuffs his shot, but the ball falls fortuitously to 'Lewis Grabban Scores Goals', he makes no mistake from close range. I watch Lamouchi catch the attention of 'keeper Brice Samba (one of Sticky's favourites). He puts his index fingers on both temples and instructs the Congolese keeper to concentrate. A few minutes later Samba retrieves the ball from out of the onion bag after Forest concede a sloppy goal. On this evidence, the play-offs are the only route to the Premier League.
Friday night is spent in Nottingham's Creative Quarter in Sneinton Market. Neon Raptor is the best taproom on the planet. The company is world-class too. Tony 'Dog' McDonald is already sampling the new range of beers that were released today. We have Explosions in the Sky and Half Time Shuffle before moving onto the Fox and Grapes next door. The landlord was murdered in 1963 and the case remains unresolved. He was found unconscious at the bus stop where I'll catch the No.27 back home, later this evening. We finish the night off in Bunkers Hill, a pub often frequented by Nottingham Panthers ice hockey fans. Tony reels off a string of anecdotes that still have me chuckling late into the night.
York City are due to move out of their Bootham Crescent ground in the next few weeks. I've watched 'The Lincoln' lose there on so many occasions (or draw 0-0). I did see the Imps win 3-2, in 1985, on an April Monday evening, in the Freight Rover Trophy, with Keyworth legend Tim 'Wrighty' Wright (we're inventive with nicknames in Keyworth).
On 8th September 1990, I was on a stag weekend in Amsterdam. We sunk bottles of Grolsch for most of the day, in sweltering conditions, before returning to the hotel to freshen up in time for the evening session. I flicked on Grandstand for Final Score. I scanned the screen for the York v Lincoln result, a game my father and brother were both attending. My heart sank when I saw 'match abandoned' on the TV screen. I ran out into the street to locate a phone box. My heart was beating ten to the dozen and tears fell down my cheeks. Reader, let me explain my panic and anxiety. My team were playing at the Bradford Fire Disaster in 1985 when 56 perished in the flames. I was also at Hillsborough in 1989. It felt like a curse.
I got through to Mum on the phone. She relayed the tragic news emerging from Bootham Crescent. York City winger and former Nottingham Forest apprentice, David Longhurst, suffered a heart attack on the pitch and was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital. He was only 25 years old. I went to the rearranged game to pay my respects. It was a horrible, sombre evening.
Bootham Crescent is a classic old football ground. The club have played there since 1932, but it's soon to be no more. I want one last look at the 'Old Lady.' Fate plays its part; it always does in my life. A close friend, 'Dafty', is taking his son, Will, (my Godson) back up to Uni, in York, after the Christmas break (students get more holidays than lecturers). Another bonus is that a mutual friend, 'Sprakey Airport', (cracking nickname, but long story) lives smack in the city centre. Jolly boys outing it is then, lads.
I say goodbye to Ms Moon who was out with her 'bestie', Jill, up Millionaires' Row (Mapperley Plains) last night. Are they out every Friday, Sticky? Dafty jumps onto the A614. Young Will is in the back fiddling with his phone. Cricket commentary from TalkSport is on the car radio, as England take a stranglehold of the 4th Test in Johannesburg.
We breeze up the A1 and are soon dropping off all Will's possessions at his college digs. 'Sprakey' lives on The Mount in York. It's in a glorious setting of the city centre. There's time for a quick brew and introduction to his family before we step out for the day.
First port of call is The Punch Bowl, a Wetherspoons pub on Blossom St. Trumpy Bolton will be appalled to hear that no 'liquid' was involved. Just full English breakfasts and cups of tea. Trumpy Bolton is in London btw folks, ticking off ground No.87 at Brentford's Griffin Park - another one that is soon to bite the dust.
We're joined by 'Our Kid' as the beers begin to flow. We have a swift one at The Ackhorne before the long (half an hour) walk up to the ground. The kick-off is delayed by 15 minutes as Kettering have had problems with their team coach.
It's £15 on the gate. Those lunchtime beers have taken their toll, as we all dash up to the Gents at the rear of the stand. The ground is a beauty. My eyes follow in a clockwise direction past the David Longhurst Stand, up the touchline towards the away terracing, where a healthy travelling contingent congregate. We're stood behind the goal in the singing section.
Kettering are managed by former Mansfield Town manager Paul Cox. He's ably assisted by my very good friend, John 'Rammers' Ramshaw - see how subtle we are about our nicknames? Former Newcastle United full-back Steve Watson (208 appearances) is in charge of the Minstermen. York are looking to bounce back into the Conference National League. Last week they lost away narrowly to League leaders Kings Lynn (280-mile round trip) 1-0 in front of over 4000 fans.
The first half is as dull as dishwater. Credit to Kettering who look the livelier team and have fresher ideas. Daniel Nti and Nottingham-born Aaron O'Connor (nickname 'Cizzle', that's more like it) are clever on the ball. They are fed passes, through the eye of a needle, by the intelligent play of Ben Milnes, another Nottingham lad who is the brother of Kent Cricket Club pace bowler Matt Milnes. Despite the Poppies' dominance, they are unable to carve out many chances. They do have a perfectly good goal chalked off by the man in black. I can only assume that York have had a kick up the butt during the break. They appear brighter and energised after the restart.
The goal that wins the game is well-worked. A cross fired in from the left-hand side is deftly steered into the back of the net by Jordan Burrow. Kettering are denied by some fine keeping in the latter stages, which prevents them from earning a point that they no doubt deserved.
I take one last look at this beautiful old school ground, that the club bought for just shy of £5,000 back in 1948. The Minstermen have been shunted out of town, close to a retail park. I bet you can't take a memorable walk through the old city like we did today.
Attendance: 2767 (204 away)
Man of the Match: Sprakey Airport
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