I'm on my laptop planning meticulously a sojourn to Sheffield, where I require a further five watering holes to complete the steel city's Good Beer Guide 2025 pub entries. I peer over my screen as I hear a pot of tea being poured in the kitchen of Corrie's Ken Barlow's gaff. Claire Sweeney brings two mugs of tea through to the back room. It's a lounge that's barely been touched since Albert Tatlock died from a heart attack, at the age of 88 years old, in 1984. Ms Moon shouts out "don't drink it Ken, it's laced with antihistamines."
I enquire as to what the hell Claire Sweeney is doing in Barlow's abode? "Ricky Hatton won't be happy if he gets wind of it, he's Claire's boyfriend isn't he?" Ms Moon explains that Hatton isn't in the show and that it's only people acting. "Well Ricky only lives down the road in Hyde, he could get the tram in and he won't be mithering Granada TV for hotel expenses, although the Rovers Return bar tab might reach four figures. Ms Moon tells me not to be so stupid.
It did get me thinking, though, about the actor William Roache. He single-handedly bled ITV's coffers dry with the longest contract since Newcastle United awarded Alan Pardew an eight year deal back in 2012. 92 year old Nottingham-born (in Basford) Roache, has blagged a 65 year career playing the boring, womanising, academic on the cobbled streets. Fair play to him though, he did manage to pull Stephanie Beacham.
I'm feeling rather chipper on Wednesday evening as I leave work. I've three days off to look forward to. Next week Ms Moon and I are flying out to Tenerife for a fortnight. Don't worry folks, I've a couple of games lined up and a new ground to tick off.
I alight the 25 bus close to Carlton Square. I fancy a couple of pints to start the 'weekend' off. The Old Volunteer has a plethora of mouth-watering range of ales on; mostly from local breweries. I plump for another Bang the Elephant New Zealand pale ale called Gnarly. I slump in a chair in the corner of the room. There are kids running around, dogs continually barking and a game of bingo being played. I pretty much down my pint and head home. I get that pubs have to think out of the box to stay open. But Bingo at 6pm is not the one. And only eight people were playing. My Carlton pals say it would have been better to embrace it. Not at £10 per bingo book, it wouldn't.
My grumpy mood continues for most of the evening as Nottingham Forest and Arsenal play out the dullest of 0-0 draws - a Ken Barlow lecture would be more entertaining than the dross these two sides serve up. The NFFC drama darlings on social media are happy enough with a point. Well I wouldn't be, as the Gunners were there for the taking!
I'm on a Northern train that's heading up to Wakefield, which is another city I need to finish off following an evening spent there, a few years ago, with some Herberts in the Wakefield Labour Club, who took an instant dislike to a steaming Sticky and Tony Mac post BREXIT vote.
I've set myself the task of walking 10 miles around Sheffield today. This would be easy peasy in most cities, but unfortunately Sheffield has hills as high as the Matterhorn. I'm soon striding out into the leafy suburbs with their artisan bakeries, local family butchers and independent cafes and bars.
I'm blown away by the frontage of Broadfield, a pub that dates back to 1896. Sureshot, a brewery located under the railway arches in the Piccadilly East area of Manchester, have a cask ale on called Hysterical and Useless. It's a belter of a pint folks which barely touches the sides.
I continue my walk to the next scheduled stop, Rising Sun, in Nether Green, which according to Google maps is an hour away. I had contemplated jumping on a bus, but it's a beautiful day for a stroll and you see so much more on a wander.
Pub three is Blind Monkey. It turns out to be the final one of the day as an attempt to book an Uber up to a heritage pub, in Heeley called the White Lion, is aborted due to a lack of availability of taxis.
I'm out on my feet by the time I reach the station, six hours after I first arrived. 11 miles have been chalked up on my phone app which also records 26,000 steps ... ooh get me. I can't pass the Brew Tavern without swinging by for one. A disappointing pint of a session Deya pale ale called Friend of the Podcast sees the day out and lights out too.
I'm down Europe's worst supermarket, Carlton Tesco, first thing on Friday morning. Ironically 'Push the Button' by Sugarbabes is on Radio Tesco. When demolition day is announced I'll be at the front of the queue to perform that task. Evening dinner is bagged as I'm on cooking duty this evening. I then head over to south of the river to see what's on offer at the Trent Bridge Cricket Shop sale. It's not a lot, if I'm honest. I purchase a half priced shirt for my holidays.
I have a teatime pint in the Fox and Grapes and a swift half pint of craft ale at neighbouring Neon Raptor, who are hoping to move into new premises in the next few months. This is not without complications as news has leaked out that the brewery will be staying put where they are, and that the new taproom will be drinking inside only. Unless you buy a can, and then wander down The Avenues and ask for a glass at the brewery, so you can sit outside on the wooden benches, soaking up the summer sunshine.
It's Saturday morning and I'm sitting in the armchair doing a couple of hours admin for the Keyworth Dream League fantasy football thingy we first started running back in 1993. I place a £5 football bet on three away wins for the syndicate 'Chippy Fryer' and I are in.
I hear a car engine revving up outside, at just gone 11 o'clock. The Big Man is piloting up to South Yorkshire, so I can tick off another ground in the Sheffield and Hallamshire Senior League. Bros are singing 'I Owe You Nothing' on Greatest Hits radio, which is ironic, as I will be contributing £10 petrol money towards the trip.
The Big 'un is green with envy that Ms Moon and I are flying out to the 'Reef, as it's his favourite holiday destination. He often enjoys a drink in the back bars of Los Cristianos, just off 'Heart Attack Hill', with Mancunian ex-boxer Ricky 'The Hitman' Hatton, who has a place out there. Sweeney best not make a brew.
In just over an hour we're parking up in the church hall car park in the village of Maplewell. We'd previously visited a top chippy in nearby Darton. Unfortunately it's closed for two weeks, and they hadn't bothered to update their google page. You're never that far away from a good 'un in Yorkshire though.
They're already queuing outside Aqua Fish Bar in the village of Mapplewell. For £5.50 you get a small haddock and chips. I decline the batter bits that I'm kindly offered. Across the road from the Wentworth pub is a bottle shop and bar. The lady behind the bar is dead friendly and knowledgeable about the craft ale scene. She persuades me to buy a can of DIPA from Ireland.
Woolley Miners Welfare is a short drive down the road. I wrote a list of new grounds I wanted to visit at the beginning of the season. North Gawber Colliery FC has been on my radar since August. I've enjoyed the grounds in this League, less so the behaviour of management, players and fans; particularly in West Yorkshire.
I'm taking a few photos as the lady official blows her whistle to kick off the game. Within 10 seconds the home side are ahead, It's the quickest goal I've ever witnessed in over 50 years of watching football. We can't 'arf pick em.
The ground is a beauty and is shared with the cricket club. It's fully railed off with a wonderful old stand on the far side of the ground that was probably full in the halcyon days when 2,000 men worked the seams at the nearby colliery.
I chance upon a 'match hopper' from Wakefield, who tips me off on a few local grounds of interest. Gawber score again to make it 2-0. Kiveton Park, near to Rotherham, look half asleep. Herbert Chapman was born in the town. He later managed Huddersfield Town to two First Division titles in the mid 1920s before moving to 'The Arsenal' where a further two titles were won in the early 1930s. In 2013 he was voted as the World's 9th greatest ever manager.
Kiveton Park could do with Chappers today. They pull one back but leak another two goals. A supporting dad, stood next to us, says that there's too much focus on a team-bonding night out in Whitby after the game. I can't fault 'em for that. Whitby has some cracking boozers.
I arrive home to the news that two Charlton Athletic added time goals see my £5 treble over the line. I can't 'arf pick 'em. Thanks for driving Big Man.
Attendance: Head count 31
Man of the Match: Herbert Chapman
Beer of the Week: Sureshot, Hysterical and Useless
Best Record Heard on the Wireless: Sports Team, Bang, Bang Bang
