Nottingham Forest 2-0 FC Porto

I arrive home from South Yorkshire via the King Billy and Neon Raptor. I unzip my rain jacket side pocket and fish out a couple of craft ale cans that l've purchased from Rap Tap. I fire up my laptop and flop into my armchair. Ms Moon is as happy as Larry watching Strictly Come Dancing. I wind her up every week by asking if Holly Daly or Tess Willoughby still host the programme. The good lady corrects me each time.

I check all the Non League scores; it's my favourite hour of the week. The sports headlines have been dominated this afternoon with the sacking of 'Arrogant Ange' after a stormy 39 day tenure at The City Ground. I register for an online account on the Nottingham Forest website. There are plenty of single tickets available for the Europa League game against FC Porto. I bag a seat for £55 in the Upper Trent End, right behind the goal. I ask Ms Moon if she fancies lunch on Saturday followed by a film at the cinema. She's taken aback and nearly falls off the settee. "Oh, by the way, I'm off down Forest on Thursday, if that's ok?"

I've been shaking off a virus for about a month now - the reason why I know it's been that long was that it came on during the Notts v Warwickshire Championship game at Trent Bridge in late September. I should have had a couple of days off work or cancelled a few trips, but I soldiered on - ooh you martyr Sticky.

I stay off the occasional midweek craft ale or glass of wine and head up to bed at 7pm on Tuesday and Wednesday evening. I listen to 5 Live's excellent coverage of the Champions League which is presented over two nights by Kelly Cates and Mark Chapman. I get a couple of decent nights kip and feel much better on Thursday morning, the day of the match.

I lock up the shop at 5pm. It's been a busy old day on the parcel front. Let's face it, you'd trust a small business more to look after a parcel than the Post Office, who would charge you heaven on earth to ship it too - all they do is send innocent employees to prison.

I catch the 58 City bus into town and alight near The Cornerhouse, a leisure complex that was built on the old Nottingham Evening Post site. I ask the bartender at Slice 'n Brew pizza restaurant on King's Walk if there is a table for one available. I'm shoe-horned into a corner adjacent to a table that's housing two mums with two young kids. One of the small boys (Henry, if you're asking, probably from West Bridgford)  continually crawls under my table. "Henry come here, I think you're beginning to annoy that gentleman", says Mum. YES HE IS!

I wander through Market Square, down Lister Gate and up past the railway station. It doesn't have the feel of a matchday as people dash from work, but you can't beat walking to the game. A few Porto fans are wandering through the Meadows. I wonder what they will think of 'The World Famous City Ground' in comparison to their 50,000 capacity at their Estadio do Dragao.

As I queue at the turnstile there's plenty of laughter amongst cheery home supporters, now the buffoon Big Ange has departed. He was a man who never understood the history of the club or the importance of their fan base. He must have one hell of a CV writer to have landed some of the jobs he has had. The word charisma won't have been included in his strengths or profile. 

Only a few days ago Sean Dyche was appointed as head coach. Dyche has lived in Nottingham for a few years now. He's often seen out in the restaurants and bars in the city centre. Big Sean is a firm favourite of Ms Moon's We were invited out for a drink with him once on a Sunday lunchtime at the Hand and Heart on Derby Road. My old boss, Mick Leonard, was a close friend of Dyche's. Big Sean didn't want to talk ball. He was more interested in reminiscing about the old bars and clubs in Nottingham with Ms Moon.

There's a rousing rendition of 'Mull of Kintyre' prior to kick off that tingles your spine whether a supporter or not. A lot has been made of FC Porto's unbeaten start to the season. They drew a blank a few weeks ago when playing stiffer opposition in Benfica.

The atmosphere is electric as both teams start on the front foot. For Forest everything comes through Elliot Anderson who reminds me of Jermaine Jenas when he first broke through into Paul Hart's team in 2001. Morgan Gibbs-White scores from the penalty spot. He does a knee slide and does that silly celebration where he puts his fingers in his ears to 'block out the noise' - mate it's nearly November and you've just scored your first goal of the season!

Forest are good value for their lead at the break with the visitors only causing concern on a few occasions. The Tricky Trees are awarded what looks like a fortuitous penalty in the second half with Savona going down in installments. The referee is sent pitchside by VAR for a second look. He awards a penno and rescinds a yellow card for 'diving.' Jesus hits his spot-kick straight down the middle. At 2-0 it's game over. 

I shuffle with the crowds down the banks of the Trent before crossing over the bridge and pegging it down London Road towards Sneinton. I need to get home asap as I've an early start in the morning.

I'm up at the crack of dawn and back into town by 7 am. I grab a Greggs coffee en route to the train station. Tony Mac is loitering around the foyer. We're on the 7.43 Nottingham to Liverpool train. EMR make a pig's ear of it. We arrive in Stockport with only two minutes to catch our connecting train. After a dash up the stairs towards Platform 0 we catch the Buxton train with 30 seconds remaining.

Buxton is a spa town in High Peak, Derbyshire. It has a population of 20,000 and is well known for its Baths, Opera House and Pavilion Gardens. Buxton FC's Tarmac Silverlands Stadium is the highest ground in England above sea level (over 1000 feet) We partake in a full English breakfast at Eat No.5 that'll set us up nicely for the day. We enjoy a brief spell of blue skies before ticking off the four entries in the Good Beer Guide. Buxton Tap and the Red Willow Tap are different class.

The skies darken and rain begins to fall as we roll into Whaley Bridge station. We get a soaking as we dry out in a lovely old CAMRA Heritage Pub called the Shepherd's Arms. The other two pubs on the list don't open until 4 pm, so we head to the village of Disley and tick a couple off there.

Stockport is our final destination with the star of the show being an unspoilt landmark Robinsons pub called Blossoms - the rock band, The Blossoms, are named after this pub. We manage to call in at the Olde Vic and Runaway Brewery before catching the 8pm train back to Nottingham.

I'm on at the shop at 5 am on Saturday. I'm dog tired, but manage to shoot off at 10,30. I shower up and head into town with Ms Moon. We lunch at Delilah's where the good lady enjoys a curried potato soup and Welsh rarebit.

We settle in at Broadway Cinema for the 2.15pm showing of the critically acclaimed I Swear. There are tears of joy and sadness during the two hour screening, which is the story of the life and struggles of a young Scottish boy who lived with a condition called Tourettes Syndrome. It's an amazing film that folk should take the time out to watch one day.

Attendance: 29,195

Player of the Match: Neco Williams. Put a fantastic shift in.

Best Song I've Heard on the Radio This Week: Doves, Spirit of Your Friend

Real Ale of the Week: Buxton Brewery, Moor Top 2025, at Buxton Tap 

Silkstone United 0-3 AFC Dronfield

I've time to kill at Worksop railway station. It would be rude not to partake in an alcoholic beverage at The Mallard, a micropub that is located in the front car park. I enjoy a real ale from Marble Brewery, who are based in Manchester. I jump on my connecting train to Nottingham. A bald-headed guy emerges into the carriage from the automatic doors in Hucknall. It's Tony Mac, who I'm out with this evening in Nottingham city centre.

We enjoy a few real ales in some of our favourite haunts: Cock and Hoop,  Keans Head and Barrel Drop before the main event at Rock City. The band begins to tune up as we wander into the main room. It's the 40th anniversary of the formation of Leeds-based indie band, The Wedding Present. There have been mixed reviews of previous gigs on the WhatsApp group I'm on, with a few of the Carlton Town lads. Lead singer, Dave Gedge, has been known to be a tad moody and grumpy. It's a fantastic 100 minutes set, with all their songs being played in chronological order, but in reverse. I notice Drurs and Jude to my left. They are with 'Skid Widdow' a Gedling Miners Welfare season ticket holder. We retire for a nightcap back at The Barrel Drop on Hurts Yard.

We have a quiet one on Sunday. Ms Moon and I have breakfast up at The Old Flower Shop, on Mapperley Top. It has a lovely ambience and nice feel about the place. The food is always presented thoughtfully and the service is top drawer.

It's Tuesday evening and I'm walking down Burton Road with a tray of fish and chips, courtesy of Oceans. I was going to try Apollo Fish Bar for a change but the owners are away on holiday at the moment. Stoke Lane is tonight's destination. Carlton Town are playing catch up in the League after their FA Cup and FA Trophy runs have come to an end.

I'm met with a few sarcastic comments in the clubhouse as I haven't been down for a while. If I'm honest I'm not that fussed with the move from East League to Midlands League. It's better for the players, management and fans from a travel perspective, but in my opinion, as a spectator, the teams at Step 4 are much stronger in Yorkshire, Lancashire and the North East. Not to mention the superior grounds that are steeped in history and proper grass.

Lou Lardi asks Peter Shearstone, his carer, Dylan, NFFC legend Ian Storey Moore and myself to pose for a photo. Carlton have some of the coolest fans on the Non League circuit who are often ahead of the curve when it comes to innovation. Dan Thorpe has come up with the idea of a vinyl night event down at the club on Friday 31st October that's called: 'The Shed End Presents.' Folk are being encouraged to bring some of their own record collection down and maybe tell a short story about it before playing a few tracks. A local band called Pretty Windows will be playing a session too. 

Tonight's visitors are Shepshed Dynamo, a club I have very fond memories of. When I lived in Keyworth, the Big Man and I had a mate called Iain Screaton who was captain. We followed them home and away for a while. The game bursts into life on 44 minutes when Shepshed take the lead. The Millers reply immediately with an alert Lamin Manneh nipping around the keeper, steadying himself before stroking the ball into an empty net.

The second half truly is a magnificent game of football. The Millers boss the first 20 minutes and take the lead through Hylton. Back come Dynamo who camp themselves in the Carlton half. It's only down to a virtuoso performance from 'Felix the Cat' in the nets that sees the Millers over the line. He has the game of his life. Well played son. There's a spring in my step on the long walk home. It's amazing what 90 minutes of sport and a night out can do to improve your mental health and well being.

I meet my lads (Jack and Joe) for tea on Thursday evening at a Wetherspoons called the Trent Bridge Inn in West Bridgford. It's mostly football chat as they still both play for their village team. I enjoy some sticky Korean chicken.  I wave the lads off and head upstairs in the pub to a room I was last in on 8th February 1985, where I celebrated with friends and family my 21st birthday.

Tonight is the first meeting of the Notts Cricket Lovers Society and it promises to be an emotional one. In April 2015, 26 year old Notts and England cricketer James Taylor had the world at his feet. He was warming up in the field prior to the opening session of a friendly versus Cambridge University. His world fell apart in the blink of an eye and he was never to play professional cricket again. He was carried from the field and was diagnosed with a serious heart condition. The room full of cricket enthusiasts falls in silence as Taylor describes his journey from that day forward. What an incredibly brave bloke he is. He gets a rousing round of applause.

Ms Moon and I have a few after work drinky poos in the Woodthorpe Top. I'm no fan of 'Spoons head honcho, Tim Martin, but I do enjoy ordering drinks on their app, particularly when the bar is knee deep with customers. Both our orders arrive in under three minutes.

I'm out of the house by 10 o'clock on Saturday morning. I walk down to the bottom of Carlton Hill and take a right turn towards Netherfield. I admire the war memorials on the high street as I head to my meeting point of Lidl, across the road from Victoria Retail Park.

Blog 'Jolly Boy' Matt Limon swings into the car park. He has Greatest Hits radio on as we head up towards Junction 27 of the M1 through the back roads of Papplewick and Linby. Limon and I were both brought up in Keyworth where our paths never crossed as I'm 8 years older. Bizarrely we actually connected in the Partizan Tavern, in Sneinton, through our mutual love for ales.

If Matt was to appear on Mastermind his specialist subject would be Beef Dripping Fish and Chip Shops in the U.K. George-a-Green Fisheries, just outside Wakefield, is where luncheon will be taken. There's a queue snaking out of the chip shop door. Limon shows true chip shop queue craft. He shouts out to the chief fryer that he wants a two foot fish special. I wolf down my smaller portion, enjoying every mouthful. I would rate it as the best I've ever had.

We wash it down with a couple of drinks at pubs called Anvil Arms and Darton Tap, in a village on the outskirts of Barnsley. I make a pig's ear out of navigating to the ground. We end up at a disused park that was formally the home of Silkstone Miners Welfare. The ground is tucked away behind a petrol station at the bottom of Barnsley Road. It's shared with the cricket club.

We perch ourselves on the summit of a steep grass bank. A change of colours to all the trees behind the far goal gives it a picturesque setting. AFC Dronfield are the visitors. It's my second viewing of them in the last 8 days. They're going to think I'm stalking them.

Dronfield continue their recent good form. They score two superbly taken goals either side of half time. A melee on the far side ruins the game. I didn't think they did handbags up here and neither does an overzealous referee. The two number 4 jackets are sent to the dressing room, as is a player who has just been subbed. A Red card is shown to him as he's sat on a stool. We're on the M1 by 4 pm. You can't beat a 2 pm kick off.

Attendance: 25 (Head count)

Player of the Match: Felix the Cat

Best Song Heard On The Radio This Week: 'I Don't Blame You' Tom A. Smith

Real Ale of the Week: Snake Eyes, Black Iris, King Billy, Sneinton

Kiveton Park 0-2 AFC Dronfield

The Pies have battered the Latics 3-1, a scoreline that has flattered the visitors. The bar and back room at the King Billy in Sneinton is filling up with jubilant and euphoric Notts County supporters. Bar service comes swiftly and with a smile. I settle into the corner and check up on all the football scores as I quaff on my pint of real ale. I had hoped to catch the first half of the Chelsea v Liverpool game but the rugger is on the TV. I say hello to Faggsy and his pals on the way out. I dash home as I'm on cooking duties this evening.

It's back to the grind of the Media world on Sunday. I do 37 hours in the next four days. I hear a voice at the front of the shop "Sticky .... can he come in?" I see a forlorn look on the face of a little lad. It's Arnold's number one shoplifter Basil the Bluenose, a six month old Dachshund puppy, who a few weeks ago was caught red-handed stealing a packet of Fisherman's Friends. His two week ban is up and he is placed on probation.

Four days at work fly by. It helps that there's a game of football on Tuesday evening. The plan was to have left the shop bang on five bells, head into town and then jump on a train to Belper, where the Mighty Millers are playing. Any chance of that happening is dashed by the late arrival of a courier at the shop who collects all the parcels. Gedling Miners Welfare v Sandiacre Town is option two up on Plains Road.

The Miners got a good hiding up at Clay Cross on Saturday (7-2) in the League cup. It looks like a few lads didn't fancy it, as only twelve members of the squad travelled up to north east Derbyshire. Tonight's game is an entertaining 0-0. I get over myself these days when teams draw a blank, unless it's at a new ground .. lol. The Millers beat unbeaten Belper 1-0.

I've four days off to look forward to and have plenty pencilled in the diary. I sort the garden out on Thursday morning and give the lawn its final cut of the year. I jump in the shower before heading into town. I perused the website at Nottingham Broadway Cinema earlier in the morning and clocked that One Battle After Another starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Sean Penn is showing at 1.30. It has a running time of two hours and fifty minutes which is right up my street. It scored 95% on Rotten Tomatoes which is another good marker.

I've forgiven DiCaprio since Titanic. In fact the last movie I saw him in, Killers of the Flower Moon, was a belter. 170 minutes flies by and of course it's a happy ending. I drop by the Partizan Tavern for a couple of pints on my way home. Ms Moon is in a bad mood when she spots that Emmerdale Farm has been dropped from tonight's ITV schedule, due to the England versus Wales friendly at Wembley.

I had planned to visit the Staffordshire market town of Uttoxeter on Friday. I fancied a mooch about that would have included ticking off three Good Beer Guide Pubs. My favourite film director, Shane Meadows, was born in the town, so I had a few Dead Man's Shoes gags lined up for the blog. A broken down EMR train scuppers any plans of getting there. I only found out an hour before the train was due to depart.

I scan the departures board from Nottingham on the National Rail app. I notice there's a station at Mansfield Woodhouse. I alight the train just after lunchtime and take a wander around Woodhouse. There must have been some after-party up here following England's victory over Wales as there are countless St George's flags hanging from nearly every lamp post, as I walk towards The Greyhound pub, where I order a pint of New Rise from Welbeck Abbey Brewery.

I continue my walk into Mansfield town centre. I walk through Yeoman Hill Park where I stumble upon a spectacular war memorial for the lost during the Great War. Each memorial names the men and the country where they fell. It preys on my mind, as it should do, as I order a sandwich and a pint at the Stag and Pheasant.

I've 15 minutes to kill before the train leaves. 'Basil the Bluenose's local is The Railway which is adjacent to the station. I text his dad, Stevie Burrows, to see if he wants to meet up for a swift one.  Steve says Basil is busy at the moment wolfing down a three course meal prepared by the girls behind the bar which consists of: a bowl of chicken, a treat stick and a buffalo ear.

I'm rustling up some Vietnamese cuisine this evening. Ms Moon has very kindly picked up all the ingredients from Morrisons in Netherfield. I'm getting everything out of the kitchen cupboard and fridge when I swear loudly. I've no brown sugar. I traipse down to Tesco Carlton where I'm greeted by The Supremes singing 'You Keep Me Hanging On' - which you sure are folks, if you are queuing at the checkouts at Western Europe's worst supermarket.

Ms Moon only has a runaround for a car and it's not to be trusted. Obviously I'm without transport these days as I've only one chuffing eye. Once the good lady gets an upgrade we can travel further afar. For now the trips are solo, unless someone kindly offers to drive, which Matt Limon has volunteered to do next week.

I swing by Hungry Pumpkin for a bacon and egg sandwich before catching the same Mansfield train as yesterday, but staying on, instead, to its final destination: Worksop. I've a 25 minute change time. Kiveton Park has been on the 'to-do-list' for some time. One of England's greatest ever football managers was born here.

Herbert Chapman had a fairly unremarkable playing career. His managerial feats are well documented in a biography by the journalist Patrick Barclay. Chapman was manager at Huddersfield Town and Arsenal where he won four Division One titles and two FA Cup finals. It would have been more had his life not been cut short by pneumonia at the age of 55 years old.

Bloody hell, there are more flags up here than Mansfield, Kirkby and Sutton put together. Blimey Charlie, it was only little old Wales we beat you know. I squeeze through an unmanned turnstile. There's no charge for this Step 7 fixture in the Sheffield and Hallamshire County Senior League. I've already had a stroll around the cricket ground where the pavilion is named after Mike Smedley, who was once captain for Nottinghamshire CCC. 

The condition of the playing surface takes my breath away. It's like a carpet, folks. I sit in the glorious old stand as the players warm up. Dronfield, kicking down the slope, race into a 2-0 lead through two uncontested headers. There's little change in the second half, if anything it's the visitors who continue with their high energy, strong running and direct play. The word on the grapevine is that KPFC are a little light on numbers due to a stag weekend. Who gets married in the football season?

Attendance: 35 (head count)

Player of the Match: Herbert Chapman

Best Song I've Heard on the Radio This Week: Dracula, by Tame Impala

Favourite Real Ale This Week: Atlas, Marble Beers, The Mallard, Worksop Station

Notts County 3-1 Oldham Athletic

We wander down into town (Wakefield) from our hotel, after an overnight stay. A full English breakfast is devoured at Capri Lounge, a cafe that towers over the A61, a road which leads you into the city centre. With an hour to kill before our train departs Wakefield Kirkgate station, we take the opportunity to visit some of the buildings that are recommended on local websites. It's another ticked off city in the north of England, with the added bonus of watching a football match at a rugby league ground.

It's back to the grind, early doors on Monday,  at 4 a.m. to be precise, as I continue to shake off a virus that caused a synchronised cough-off between Ms Moon and Sticky at the Wakey Premier Inn in the early hours of Sunday morning. Apologies if you were in room 253 or room 255. 

There's disturbing news to be reported on from the shop, folks, that makes for some very grim reading. You need to have your wits about you when minding a newsagent. A thief/shoplifter will take advantage when you are distracted by another customer. I nearly fell for it hook, line and sinker the other day. I was chatting to Stevie Burrows, a Birmingham City fan, about the chances of the Bluenoses being promoted to the Premier League, when the perpetrator struck. They headed for the door at breakneck speed without paying for their goods. Luckily, he was apprehended before he shot up Front Street and out of sight.

I thought long and hard about whether to phone the police but felt a two week ban would suffice. The offender is well known in Arnold. His name is Basil the Bluenose, a Dachshund puppy. He tried to steal a packet of Fisherman's Friends, with his defence being that he had a kennel cough. I'm not falling for that one son.

There's no midweek football this week. I had the opportunity to go and watch Racing Warwick v the Mighty Millers, but the game was being played on 3G. There are exceptions to the rule of NO 3G, but I honestly didn't want to wipe anybody out with the lurgy should I get offered a lift.

On the subject of Carlton Town, this blog would like to send best wishes and condolences to Millers' legendary, stalwart central defender Dan Brown (215 appearances and still only 25 yrs old)) who had the misfortune to lose both his front teeth during a league fixture at Boldmere St Michaels. A distressful and anxious evening was spent by Dan and his dad, Malc, in accident and emergency at a West Midlands hospital. Get well soon Dan. I'll put the special offer bonfire toffee at the shop aside for now, pal, until the new gnashers are fitted.

Tony Mac and I managed to get a £30 each return train ticket to Blackpool a few months ago. Mac has booked us in for a one night stay at an Airbnb. We're on the train by 7.45 on Thursday morning. There are already weather warnings that Storm Amy is blowing through the west coast late on Friday afternoon.

We change at Manchester Piccadilly and alight first at Poulton-le-Fylde, a market town where The Police guitarist Andy Summers was born. The cloud is low hanging as we tick off a few Good Beer Guide pubs before jumping back on the train where we alight at Blackpool North station.

I've only ever been to Blackpool on three occasions. The first time was in the 1970s with Mum and Dad for the illuminations. The other two times were football-related:  A 2-2 draw for NFFC at Bloomfield Road back in 2012 - seem to remember Jermaine Jenas playing on loan that day and a 2-1 defeat for Lincoln City in 2019, Michael Appleton's first game in charge.

The Airbnb is in a suburb called Layton. The door to the premises is open. We startle the owner who is sitting at a table tapping away at the keyboard on his laptop. There's some confusion over the booking. We're confirmed by email. To make amends he drives us out to Cleveleys where the evening session begins. We end up at St Annes-on-the sea.

We manage to catch the second half of the Forest v Midtjylland Europa League game. Shambolic defending sees the Tricky Trees defeated. So-called 'fans' chant for the manager to be removed from a position he has only held for a few weeks. We see the evening out with a couple of nightcaps at Blackpool Cricket Club, where Harold Larwood was banished to after the Ashes tour of 1932-33 - Sticky we're sick to the back teeth of hearing about it.

The weather turns on Friday. A Spoons breakfast is polished off at The Velvet Coaster. The walk along the seafront is depressing. Most places are closed with many buildings falling into disrepair. We're back at the railway station for 6.30pm after a full day out at Lytham and Kirkham. Fingers are crossed on both hands that Northern Trains drivers aren't phoning in on the sick. We're over 20 minutes late arriving back in Nottingham (EMR ole ole ole again). Trainline email me to confirm that a part refund can be applied for.

Ms Moon and I both enjoy a massive lie-in, as we're still under the weather. It didn't stop me ticking off 28 pubs (half pints in most) in the North West - I haven't got time to be ill. I have a chippy lunch before jumping on the bus towards the bottom of Sneinton.

I thoroughly enjoyed my matchday experience at Meadow Lane a few weeks ago. Oldham announced a few days ago that they had sold out their away allocation. The visiting support are in the ground early and are enjoying a good old Lancastrian sing song. "Oldham are back. Oldham are back." You can hear a pin drop in their end when an Alassano Jatta deflected shot puts the Pies 1-0 up on seven minutes.

Jatta has got his mojo back after appearing unsettled since last January.  The Latics defence are unable to cope with his pace and power. Tottenham loanee Tyrese Hall increases the lead after guiding a shot into the corner of the net. Oldham manager Mickey Mellon is tearing his hair out as the Pies lay siege on the Oldham goal with aggressive, front foot football.

Jatta bags another, unleashing a left footed shot that goes between the 'keeper's legs. Oldham reply in the blink of an eye. Their alert stopper whacks a ball deep into the County half, a defender makes a pig's ear of it, Mellon junior, on loan from Burnley, pounces on the error before expertly lobbing the ball over an onrushing Kelly Roos. There are a few scary moments before fresh legs and reinforcements ease County to victory at a canter, to continue their recent good form at home.

Attendance: 11,418 (2,066 from Oldham)

Player of the Match: Tony Mac .. precision planning for the seaside trip

Best Record I've Heard on the Radio This Week: Avalon Emerson ... 'Sandrail Silhouette

'Real Ale of the Week: Mauldons Brewery ... Blackberry Porter in Poulton le Fylde