Sunday, March 29, 2020

Neon Raptor 30-0 Covid-19


I sing for most of the day on Sunday, 'Every Day is Like Sunday' by Manchester-born singer Morrissey. Ms Moon and I enjoy our social distance walk at Gedling Country Park, high up on the old colliery spoil heap. The village of Gedling is just a couple of miles down the road from us. I've many happy memories of playing cricket here in the early 80s. The two teams, post-match, socialised together superbly at The Willowbrook Club on Main Road - which always reminded me of Arthur Daley's and Terry McCann's local, The Winchester Club, in Minder.

Back in those days professional footballers played cricket when it was out of season. Former Chelsea and Mansfield Town 'keeper Kevin Hitchcock played for Keyworth. It always lifted your spirits when 'Hitchy' was in the team. He was an incredible batsman and phenomenal in the field. Gedling had a couple of footballers too. One was Steve Burke who was tipped for the very top at NFFC. He ended up with 156 League appearances, mostly for QPR and Doncaster Rovers. 'Burkie' was great fun in the pub after a game, and never took himself too seriously. The other lad was Steve Hodge, who always kept his distance and seemed painfully shy. He famously ended up with Maradona's shirt after the 'Hand of God' incident in the 1986 Mexico World Cup quarter-final. His autobiography is a great read too. Ironically The Willowbrook is now on one of my Sunday lunchtime rat runs.


Bad news arrives from Trumpy Towers on Tuesday morning. Blog legend Trumpy Bolton has been 'Furloughed.' With all pubs shut and no work for the foreseeable, it's going to be a long Spring for our man south of the river. We exchange a few 'are you okay?' texts before I throw caution to the wind and phone him up. He says being off work does have its benefits, at least he doesn't have to listen to 'Jim 't**t White.' He is quite cross that Rylan Clark-Neal is 'on everything' - he recently announced that Rylan was in his top 5 pet hates. The Boltons were meant to be 'sunning' themselves (drinking) in Lanzarote this week, but Covid-19 has put the kibosh on that. Place in the Sun and Wish You Were Here are off-limits on the TV schedule. Trumpy signs off with "got to go chap, it's the bidding stage on Bargain Hunt."

Christ on a bike, I'm having to work from home. My company has taken the decision to close our offices until further notice. I'm climbing the walls folks. A few deals drop out due to Covid-19. We have early morning Team calls, in an effort to lift morale. It's great to hear the voices and see my colleagues. They are spared a look at 'the perfect face for radio' as my laptop camera isn't working - I'm surprised the Chinese lads forgot to put one in on the Dell production line.


I'm not really a big fan of TalkSport, but Max Rushden and Hawksbee and Jacobs have been great value all week. Max Rushden even got Forest skipper Joe Worrall to read out 'The Hungry Caterpillar' live on air - well-played Joe. Paul Hawksbee has a razor-sharp wit that always makes me chuckle. They replay some of the clips from the recent World Cups in Brazil and Russia - it's comedy gold.

It's Thursday tea-time and it's been another tough time of coping with lone-working. I promise myself a treat at the end of each day, whether it's the one hour walk permitted by CV19 victim Boris Johnson or a can of Neon Raptor to get me through Emmerdale Farm or Tipping Point, on catch up. I pick up a coat, lace-up the old faithful black and white striped Adidas Samba trainers (the ones your old PE teacher used to wear) before sliding open the French window door and heading down to Carlton Square.


Netherfield is a ghost town - it's probably for the best. I like some of the touches on the high street when you actually bother to look around your surroundings. The War Memorial, the soldier and poppies stop me in my tracks and bring a lump to my throat. A mate called Jim Henry reminds me on Facebook that he saw plenty of action in a flat where he lived above Graham Reeds on Victoria Rd (now Hawk Cycles). Sadly it wasn't watching his beloved Scotland in the World Cup finals as they failed to qualify.

I end up on Victoria Retail Park. I had hoped that DIY stores were open. I find a staff member leaning against a stack of empty pallets, basking in the sunshine. "Click and collect for essential items only, love" is the response I get when asked if they're open. "I need some moss killer," I reply. She gets all stroppy "Sir, that isn't really essential is it?" "It bloody well is, my grass is dying on its arse" I remark as I slope off to the Marks and Spencer Food Hall (Jitz Jani's favourite store).


It's Friday morning and I'm so depressed folks. I'd normally be meeting Ms Moon for a few tea-time scoops. The good lady would then be watching that spiv Eric Pollard and the lads and lasses from 'The Farm' whilst I sunk a couple more rocket fuel ales in Neon Raptor, the best taproom in the world.

There's a knock at the door. My heart races ten to the dozen. It'll be Jeff Brazier from the People's Postcard Lottery waving a big fat £30k cheque. I'm shaking as I unlock the door, the surprise is bigger than expected. It's 30x cans of Neon Raptor craft ale. I ask the APC courier driver if I can kiss him. He declines and asks for my name. "How about an 'Elbow Tap?" but he's not having that either.


I cradle the two boxes of ales for most of the day, kissing a few cans occasionally. I listen to the hysterical calls on the Jeremy Vine Show. Vine stokes up the fires of the Daily Mail readers, who flood his phone lines. He either talks about his cycle ride into work and his contempt for car drivers or brags about £40 haircuts. Old Ted, God rest his soul, from City Barbers on Market Street in Nottingham will be turning in his grave. He cut (butchered) Roy Keane's mop a few days before the League Cup final in 1992 v Man Utd, for £2.50 - it went down as the worst trim in history. To cheer us all up Vine plays 'How Soon is Now?' by The Smiths.

All the days morph into one another, but at least I can spend some time with 'The Princess' at the weekend. I scarify the lawn 4x times in two days, tearing up all the moss (minus killer). We walk to the retail park and back, buying a few snacks from Marks' Food Hall. I post a couple of lip-syncing videos for a gag on social media. I watch a few more episodes of The Test on Amazon. The Nest on BBC i-Player has been recommended too and is set in Glasgow. It feels like Christmas, but without the fun and family.

Man of the Match: APC Courier

No comments: