Rainworth MWFC 1-2 Stapleford Town

I exit Chesterfield FC's SMH Group stadium to be met with a 50 mph howling wind. The rain stings my skin like it did on my arrival four hours ago. I trudge across the road, making my way towards the railway station. It's a 25 minute walk that I'm not particularly looking forward to, as Storm Darragh blows through. By chance, a public service bus pulls up down the road. I leg it and hop on. A £2 fare is paid to a grumpy driver, who gets me to the town centre. I sit in the station waiting room as the EMR train from Sheffield to Nottingham is delayed by 15 minutes.

I'm scrolling through my Twitter timeline when I notice a direct message from Steve Mack, a Notts-based brilliant Non League photographer, who also happens to be a big Tranmere Rovers fan. We sit together on the train. Steve's not too downbeat about the final score. He agrees that Rovers will be in a relegation scrap unless there's much-need investment or a long-running takeover bid rumour is signed off before the end of the year, in time for the January transfer window, as fresh blood is needed.

I enjoy a couple of pints of Stargazer, a decadently poured stout, at Barley Twist, on Carrington Street. Steve has joined me, but he has to shoot off up to Rescue Rooms for a gig later. It's gone 8 pm by the time I jump off the Carlton 27, at the bus stop that's located outside the worst supermarket in the world. I grab a pizza off a shelf at Carlton Tesco. I'm pushed for time, as I need an early night. The irony that Wilson Pickett is belting out the lyric "I'm gonna wait 'til the midnight hour", as shoppers queue at the self-service checkout, is not lost on me. "We probably will be" I say out loud to nobody in particular.

Sunday afternoon is spent listening to back to back Radcliffe and Maconie shows followed by my weekly staple of Steve Lamacq from his 6 Music Monday evening show. I hit the wooden hill before 10 pm - two nights in York, a wet and windy day in Chesterfield and a Sunday morning shop opening have done for me.

It's Wednesday morning and I'm hanging around outside the Laguna curry house on Mount Street. I have managed to negotiate a day off from the shop. This can only mean one thing: it's a Heritage Pub and Victoria Cross memorial day out in Norfolk and Suffolk with the following blog legends: Crazy Steve, Cotgrave Trev and Little Al.

'Crazy' is fresh as a daisy after a week on his tod in Jamaica - you've got to have massive cahoonas to go to Kingston town on your 'Jack Jones' - he did seek advice from a mate on the do's and don'ts. He watched a few days of the Test match between the West Indies and Bangladesh, which was held at Sabina Park.

The first town we visit on our arrival in East Anglia is Swaffham. It's often name-checked by Alan Partridge on his Radio Norwich show. There is a funeral taking place as we walk through to the rear of the churchyard to pay our respects to Sir Arthur Kynet Wilson, who was awarded a Victoria Cross for his bravery during the Mahdi Rebellion, in Sudan, in 1884.

The grave that I want to visit is in the village of Woolpit. He was a 'soldier' too. A member of the Home Guard in the fictional seaside town of Walmington-on-Sea. Ian Lavender played the part of Private Pike in the hugely popular BBC comedy series Dad's Army. Lavender later went on to appear in the soap opera EastEnders - I bet that was a barrel of laughs. Lavender sadly passed away in February this year. There is a wooden cross on his grave with a plaque attached to it. 

Lunchtime is spent in Bury St Edmunds. The Nutshell, a heritage pub in the town centre, opened as a beerhouse in 1873. Its interior measures at 15ft x 7ft, making it one of the UK's smallest pubs. The lady behind the bar is good fun. In recent months a few celebrities have called in for a drink including: Leo Sayer, Fatima Whitbread and Reverend Richard Coles. I ask if Leo Sayer was on an all-dayer.

Crazy drops me off on London Road, in Nottingham, where traffic is at a standstill. I stroll through the city centre before dropping down into Sneinton. I have a couple of small glasses at the Partizan Tavern. I stroll back across the road and through the marketplace. 

Faggsy is sat in the dimly lit Bath Inn. The landlord, the son of former Dr Who, Tom Baker, has done a cracking job with the Christmas decorations.I enjoy a catch up with Faggsy who has recently returned from a week away up in Keswick, in the Lake District. It's the usual topics of conversation: Notts County, Carlton Town and Nottinghamshire County Cricket Club. We finish the night up in the King Billy.

It's another day off on Friday. I'm actually in Arnold for midday. More to the point I'm in a 'Spoons called The Ernehale. My boss, 'Chippy Fryer' is recovering from knee replacement surgery. We're having a shop get together to celebrate the festive season. 'Fred', Tony 'Calamity' Crabtree and Sean are all in attendance. The plan, in my fuzzy head, was for a couple of pints, followed by some shopping in town. Eight hours later I'm still holed up in Arnold with Chippy, having ticked off The Greyhound, Sasha's and Cross Keys. I have a vague memory, on my return to Chez Palms, of watching Gogglebox as I fought to stay awake in my armchair.

'Fred' has set up a chocolate market stall outside the shop on Saturday morning. Muggins has drawn the short straw and 'he's' also feeling a tad delicate. We do a roaring trade with cheery customers on a busy Front Street, that's bustling with Christmas shoppers.

Ms Moon picks me up on the nose at 2pm. We head north to the village of Rainworth, which is well known for the capture of the murderer and kidnapper Donald Neilson, who was nicknamed by the Press as the Black Panther. He was overpowered by the afternoon shift of Rufford Colliery outside a local chippy after taking two policemen hostage, back in 1975.

I fight my fatigue as 'Mr Personality' (Mark Goodier) is on his Pick of the Pops show again. He plays Cry Wolf by A-ha and 'So Cold the Night' by The Communards. My Jimmy Somerville impersonation goes down a storm with Ms Moon (not!) 

I was going to quickly tick off a Good Beer Guide entry in the village called The Inkpot Micropub, sadly it's closed for the weekend. The guy on the gate is dead friendly - I could have paid in as a concession, as in my hungover state I look in a right two 'n eight (he asked me how old I was?) I part with £12, as every pound counts at this level. I also buy a golden goal ticket.

I had hoped to see Carlton Town loanee David Olatomide playing for today's visitors Stapleford Town. There's no sign of him during the warm up. A team sheet. shown to me by a club official. confirms his absence. It proper cheeses me off.

Upo's lad, Jack, is playing for 'Stabbo.' I can neither see nor hear Upo, which suggests he's AWOL too. The first half is a hard watch, but Rainworth are good value for their one goal lead. Stapleford appear lacklustre and give the ball away too cheaply. We're straight in the clubhouse for a warm.

The visitors up their gears in the second half, snatching an unlikely victory with two great strikes. It's bloody freezing up here. I can't wait to get home to my armchair where I'll crack open a couple of craft ale cans whilst studying the day's results from all corners of the world.

Attendance: 56

Man of the Match: Crazy Steve

Chesterfield 3-0 Tranmere Rovers

The customers at the newsagent's (where I work) in the Nottinghamshire town of Arnold - the artist formerly known as 'Tory Arnold' are having a fit of pique on Tuesday morning. There's no Christmas cheer on Front Street with the news spreading like wildfire in Birds Bakery that What's on TV and TV Choice magazines have both risen in price by three pence to 82p and 85p respectively. Folk whinge and moan more than Pep Guardiola after another Premier League defeat. It's poor old Sticky that gets it in the earhole - anyone would think I printed the flipping publication. It was the same when the Daily Mail went up to £1.10 - on that occasion I was quite happy to field complaints, from the Blue Army entourage, as they chuntered on exiting the shop.

The Winter Fuel Allowance is the biggest bone of contention for the pensioners that come in the shop - it was a policy Boris (as the Tory voters like to call him) always liked to boast about to keep the electorate sweet, following the buffoon's and his mates' crass behaviour during COVID. The Labour Party announced they were to abolish the payment, unless you were on pension credits or means-tested benefits. I had an elderly lady kicking off about this the other day. She complained that her and hubby didn't qualify for the payment, so couldn't afford to have the heating on much, and that they would have to tighten their belts when food shopping with the energy price increase imminent. She followed this up with "can I have 60 John Player Red Superkings and a bottle of Smirnoff please love."

It's Thursday evening and I'm locking up after another busy day at the shop. The street is deserted and the temperatures are plummeting as I scurry across the market place toward High Street. I catch the 58 bus outside Keith Hall Hair. It begins to rain cats 'n dogs as I jump off on Parliament Street. By the time I'm sitting down in the cosy Barley Twist on Carrington Street, I'm like a drowned rat and smell like a wet dog.

I dry out for around an hour whilst enjoying a couple of craft ales from Verdant in Cornwall and Shiny Brewery, who are based in Little Eaton, just outside Derby. Shiny are an under the radar brewery who very rarely brew a bad 'un. Their taproom is well worth a visit too.

I've taken a punt on beating Storm Darragh, which is on its way from Ireland. East Midlands Railways, who are spoken in the same breath as Carlton Tesco and artificial football pitches, do their best to muck up catching a connecting train from Grantham to York. Luckily that's a few minutes late too.

I'm as snug as a bug in a rug on the LNER high speed train, with my head buried into the latest publication by the razor-sharp broadcaster Martin Kelner. His book, called Wrestling in Honey, takes a nostalgic look at sports on TV from back in the day such as: Snooker, Rugby League and Darts.

My brother, Mark, picks me up from York station and drives me back to his house in the village of Upper Poppleton where the Belgian-born Leeds United defender Pascal Struijk used to live. We enjoy a few glasses of wine and prawn linguine as we catch up with one another before retiring to bed.

I love a few days up in York and always enjoy a break away from my natural surroundings. After a hearty breakfast we jump in the car and head up to the village of Aldborough. We wander past St Andrew's Church where in 1998 the Yorkshire and England cricketer David 'Bluey' Bairstow was laid to rest, having taken his own life. Bairstow suffered from depression, and it was led to believe he had financial troubles too. It's an extremely sad story, as he would have been incredibly proud of the cricketing career his son Jonny went on to have for club and country.

We're just a short drive away from Boroughbridge. We pull up in the car park of the Tap on the Tutt, which until 2023 was known as the Three Horseshoes. It's my 189th two star or three star CAMRA Heritage Pub. We're lucky that this watering hole is still in existence as it was sold off by its long-time family owners in 2003 and narrowly escaped being converted into a Chinese restaurant. The friendly barman pours a perfect pint of Jorvik Blonde from Rudgate Brewery.

We take a stroll around the quaint town centre which lay on the A1 London to Edinburgh road until a by-pass was built. Lunch is spent at an independent bakery. We peck away at our sandwich adjacent to a mightily impressive War Memorial.

A couple of pubs are visited on the outskirts of York city centre at teatime as folk finish up for the weekend. The first is another CAMRA HP called The Fox, which is owned by Ossett Brewery. Just around the corner is Volunteer Arms, which is a Good Beer Guide Entry in the 2024 edition.

The TV on offer for Friday evening is pretty crap to be honest. I barely raise a smile at Have I Got News For You or The Last Leg. Both shows are washed up and played out. Thank the Lord for Gogglebox and its real people. The 1996 Top of the Pops Christmas Special hosted by the Spice Girls and Take That, screened on BBC 4, was pretty much the death knell of the show.

Football fixtures are falling victim to the weather, and none are bigger than the Merseyside derby. After a couple of slices of homemade sourdough bread, smothered in butter and Marmite, my brother kindly drops me off at York station.

The original plan was to travel to the old coal-mining village of Goldthorpe, close to Rotherham, to tick off a chippy and take in Dearne and District versus Wakefield in Northern Counties East Division One. Having studied the weather map this would be a foolish decision to make as I can't afford to get stranded as I'm opening the shop at 4am on Sunday.

The plan is to stick to the main line. I bagged a ticket for Chesterfield v Tranmere Rovers yesterday. It was quite a painful customer experience on the phone to their ticket office, but we got there in the end. I've got an FA Trophy tie between Alfreton Town and Spennymoor Town in the back pocket should the football Gods go against me.

There are loads of Leeds fans milling around at the station, fretting that they are going to miss the early kick off at Elland Road versus Derby County. Overhead cables have been damaged on the east coast line. I have to rely on X-Country and EMR - my heart is already filled with disappointment. We arrive at Sheffield 45 minutes late, but somehow pull in at Chesterfield by 1pm. I pat myself on the back as my cunning plan and change of strategy is going well at this point.

It's pissing down with rain. It hits my face so hard that it's like someone is rubbing coarse sandpaper on my skin. 25 minutes later a soaked-to-the-skin Sticky arrives at the SMH Group Stadium. An overzealous steward has asked to look through my rucksack. I warn him that there are smelly pants and stinky socks in there; he's unperturbed. My brother has wrapped some Christmas presents, one of them is quite heavy - hopefully the latest copy of the 2025 CAMRA Guide. The nincompoop of a steward says he would like me to open it. "Not until Christmas Day, you Herbert" I reply. It's 1.30 pm and I'm the first supporter in the ground.

The wind is blowing across the pitch driving the rain into the East Stand. I've got six layers on, including thermals, but can still feel the cold. I'm cheered up somewhat by the DJ set. He plays: a couple of Jungle and Pet Shop Boys tracks. The teams emerge from the tunnel to Mr Blue Sky .. lol.

It's a one-sided contest in the first half, with Nigel Adkins' lowly, cash-strapped Tranmere Rovers spending most of it on the back foot. They are lucky to be only two goals down at half-time to brilliantly-worked goals. The DJ ups his set at the break with 'Heavyweight Champion of the World' by Sheffield-based band Reverend and the Makers.

Had it been a boxing match the referee would have stopped the game on the hour. Chesterfield are magnificent with their pace troubling the visitors down both sides. Manager Paul Cook has the luxury of saving some tired legs for another day. As for Tranmere, well the best they can hope for is the much-talked about takeover by U.S hip hop star A$AP Rocky.

Attendance: 7,923

Man of the Match: Armando Dobra

Radford FC 0-1 Clipstone FC

I pay the price for a long day out which included a football match and a gig at The Bodega, a venue celebrating their 25th birthday this week. The alarm goes off at 3 am on Sunday; like it does every week. Folk say why on earth would you rise from your slumber at some ungodly hour to work at a paper shop. It's simple: I love my job and adore the characters that come through our doors, even if they are Daily Mail readers.

I chat away to my Albanian taxi driver during the short ten minute journey to Arnold.. He says his homeland is a beautiful country that I must visit one day. I ask him if he's ever heard of Norman Wisdom. The 50s Cockney actor was a cult hero in Albania during their communist regime and was given the Freedom of Tirana, the country's capital. He's buried in the Isle of Man, a place I intend to visit sometime in the near future. And of course, I'll pay my respects.

I'm rushing around like a bluearse fly on Tuesday evening, due to the incompetence of Nottingham City Transport. This evening there have been more sightings of Lord Lucan than a 25 bus from Arnold. I have a five star chippy tea at the award-winning Oceans. I meet Faggsy outside the Nags Head. On Burton Road we are met with the flashing lights of blues and twos. The approach has been taped off due to a car accident. We can hear the sound of a fireman's cutting gear as we take a detour down Conway Road.

Dunston UTS FC, from up in Gateshead, are tonight's visitors to El Stadio Stokeld. It's where the flawed genius Paul Gascoigne grew up. I was up there earlier in the season for an FA Cup replay versus neighbouring Whickham FC. They weren't all that on a windy summer evening. But they did look handy down the left hand side, where ironically the first goal comes from as two challenges in the air are lost, which creates a gaping hole in the Millers' defence. Robson gets in behind and slots the ball home.

The Millers huff and puff but lack any creativity. It's doom and gloom in the clubhouse as Carlton's miserable run of form looks set to continue. When a side makes a 300 mile-round midweek trip it can bring a togetherness and siege mentality - I've seen this when Carlton have made long journeys to the north of the country on Tuesday evenings.  Remember these guys are only part-time. They will have given up half a day's wages to go and play football, when the monies paid by Non League clubs aren't as inflated as the bush telegraph thinks they are.

Faggsy and I settle in at the Old Volunteer as we try to pinpoint why the Millers have fallen to another defeat. 2-0 was a tad harsh, but they never tested a rotund and plump goalkeeper who would have gone down in installments had anyone bothered to have a shot on target. At least a roasty, smokie Raven porter and Mango IPA is a nice way to finish the night off.

I was saddened to see that Steve Cooper has been shown the door at the King Power Stadium. I'm unsure what the expectations of Leicester City FC and their supporters are, but surely you'd have settled for 17th position come the end of the season. I'm not sure who is running the show at LCFC, but their Owner does have previous.  Also the behaviour of the players on a weekend piss up in Copenhagen showed them in their true light. They won't be missed if they bite the dust in May.

It's Wednesday evening and I'm sitting in my armchair tucking into Tuscan Salmon that has been cooked with my fair hand. I stare at the TV screen in disbelief. That bloody dullard, Liam the doctor, is having a snog with Chas off 'The Farm,' How on Earth does this wet blanket do it? It's not his chat or gags; that's for sure.

It's Friday morning. The end of my working week was yesterday. Today it's the Jolly Boys Christmas Party. I push open the door of Plan A, the artist formerly known as Tuckers Cafe, on Friar Lane, in Nottingham. Tony Mac and Tory Boy Limon are already drinking tea and coffee. The full English, including toast and tea, is good value at £8.50.

We have to dash for a Number One double decker that's located around the corner on Beastmarket Hill. The bus winds its way through the villages of Gotham and East Leake. We alight the bus in Loughborough town centre. Matt Limon has been placed in charge of today's itinerary. 

We take a photo of a mural of Women's Marathon record-holder Paula Radcliffe, who gained a first-class degree in Modern Studies at Loughborough University back in the 1990s. We tick off three pubs in the town before jumping on a Kinch zig zag bus that takes us to the village of Barrow Upon Soar. I've been to most of the pubs in the village, but Limon is keen to visit a Charnwood Brewery Tap called The Fox Cub. 

I get a few disapproving looks from the locals as I've got my Nottinghamshire County Cricket Club clobber on.

Ackers and Mad Dog are also on the trip. We return to Loughborough where Moonface, Needle and Pin, The Wheeltapper are ticked off. We call by the Round RobINN and finally finish up at Brew Tavern, adjacent to Nottingham train station. Limon's nightcap is a beauty. It's 14.5% abv Imperial double stout from a nano brewery called Emperor's, who are based in Coalville. I decline his kind offer of a snifter. Thanks for organising the day out, Matt.

I laze around on Saturday morning. We were going up to Swinton, in South Yorkshire. But I'd noticed that Radford are entertaining United Counties Division One League leaders Clipstone FC. Not many girls can say they've been treated to an afternoon out in Raddy - that's twice this season for Ms Moon.

I loaf in my armchair placing football bets, putting the National Lottery on and updating the Keyworth Dream League latest scorers. Ms Moon is binge-watching Location, Location Location. She says that the host, Phil Spencer, inherited, along with his siblings, £18 million following the loss of his parents in a tragic accident. 

Mark Goodier is on Radio 2's Pick of the Pops. If you're ever suffering from insomnia give Goodier a go, you'll be out like a light. He does bring some cheer to the car (from me) when he announces that the year he's playing records (1996) is when Take That split up. He then plays Innocent Child by Mark Owen which is better than anything Take That have knocked out. Ms Moon disagrees.

We park up in Asda and then wander across the road. It's £6 on the gate. I get the usual lukewarm reception as I'm a Jonah on my visits to Selurst Street. I have some craic with Raddy physio Shoey and stalwart supporter and volunteer, ASBO as ELO's Mr Blue Sky plays on the PA system.

The game is scrappy, but Radford are handed a lifeline when the visitors' Mitchell sees the red mist descend and a red card correctly waved in his face by the young official. A wag shouts out from behind the goal, "not sure what's worse, the challenge or your haircut, you dirty northern ******".  If anything Clipstone play better a man down. They carve out some good chances. Although the Pheasants spurn a good opening when through on goal.

I manage a quick chat with Scott Ward, who I haven't seen for ages, since his involvement with Blidworth. The second half isn't the best. The game is desperate for a goal but it comes at the wrong end. I suggest to Ms Moon we edge nearer to the exit as Big Glenn has proper got it on him.

Crowd favourite Josh Gardner comes on way too late. The fussy official cautions him for entering the field of play without permission, such is his eagerness. He shows quality from his first touch. He turns the full back inside out and kills him for pace before being crudely brought down. I'd like to see him start next time, as he's a match winner.

Attendance: 100

Man of the Match: Matt Limon