Notts County 1-3 Salford City

I'm queuing at the bar in Carlton Town's clubhouse. Sticky's splashing out on a big round of drinks following a Grand National shock win for Nick Rockett. Liquid Light's Day Tripper is always available on tap in the Millers' bar.

Carlton have drawn 1-1 to Brighouse Town, but the mood and talk amongst the fans is still upbeat. There is a presentation to two very popular players, Lawrence Stewart-Gorman and Lewis Durow, who have both made over 100+ appearances for the club.

I sit with 'Gilly', Framey and Duds as the Aston Villa v Nottingham Forest evening game kicks off. In the blink of an eye the Tricky Trees are 2-0 down. Sat adjacent to me is NFFC legendary supporter, Gary Clarke, who is clearly distraught at what he is witnessing He asks if the TV set can be turned off. Edward and I pipe up that it might be better if we watch the Brookside omnibus edition on Channel 4.

Forest react well to adversity. Shots are fired in, that narrowly go wide. They pull a goal back and miss a string of chances in the second half. It's a fantastic advertisement for the Premier League. But fortune is hiding today for U Reds, as the referee blows the final whistle.

It's 9am. on Sunday and I'm walking down Milton Street towards Victoria Centre, a shopping centre and social housing complex, in Nottingham. This brutalist building was constructed by Taylor Woodrow between 1967 and 1970. Victoria Market has all but closed. It was the place to be in the 1970s, when you could buy fish, poultry, fruit and lace amongst many other products. Nottingham can be a sorry and sad sight at this time of day. The shops are closed and it's eerily quiet. The homeless are wedged in shop doorways, buried in their sleeping bags.

Foodies and coffee aficionados are packed in like sardines at crowd favourite YOLK, which sits at the bottom of hipster Hockley. I decide to have breakfast at BEAR, a red-fronted diner, that's located in the heart of the creative neighbourhood. 

It's more worthy of praise than the 3.9 average google review score. I opt for Turkish eggs, served on Greek yoghurt, with crispy chilli oil and pink onions on warm flatbread. It's a best seller a mile away on The Avenue in West Bridgford. Fair play to the lads and lasses of 'Fur Coats and No Knickers Land;' it's an absolute banger when accompanied with a piping hot Americano and some warm milk - alright John Torode  .. calm down.

After walking off my breakfast, down Arkwright Street, and through the Meadows, I'm fumbling through my bag to find my phone, so I can show my members' pass to the steward who is on the gate at Nottinghamshire County Cricket Club.

I sit with Drurs, 'Acko', 'Seadog Paul' and the Horsburghs. Notts put themselves in a strong position following a century by 'one of our own', vice-captain Lyndon James. Drurs and I manage to get a couple of bollockings in the space of an hour. The first one is from an overzealous (bored) steward who says we aren't allowed to sit in the 'players area.' At lunch we feel the wrath of Durham's lead bowling coach and ex England Test cricketer, Graham Onions, when a stray, hurtling cricket ball narrowly misses us in the practise area on the outfield, as we saunter around the ground on the in-field.

It's Wednesday evening and I've finished up work for a few days - when I say work I mean talking to customers about football, cricket or the soap operas when all the TV magazines are published on a Tuesday. I've not been to flicks in ages. Why would you want to be cooped up in a tiny cinema whilst the sun is shining and the beer is flowing?

Mr Burton has been receiving some glowing reviews from the film press. What sways it for me is that the brilliant Toby Jones stars in the film, as an inspirational mentor and teacher, who encourages, cajoles and eventually adopts a young, promising Welsh actor called Richard Burton. Two hours flies by in a very busy Screen One at Broadway Cinema. I get my third bollocking of the week when an eagle-eyed usher clocks me checking the time on my phone. It's going to be one of those weeks folks.

I'm as happy as Larry on Thursday evening when I chance upon a half-price sale at Tartarus Brewery, who sell high end craft ales, up in Leeds. I bag 12x cans for £34. I explain to Ms Moon that they are soon to be past their best before date, so I'll need to drink 'em pretty quickly. "Any excuse", she replies.

I make the 4 mile walk to Trent Bridge Cricket Ground on Friday morning. I am accompanied by blog legend Faggsy (BLF) who has just spent the last five days walking the south west coastal path in Cornwall with Crazy Steve.

It's definitely a day to be lathered in Factor 30 sun cream as we sit like starfish in the Lower Radcliffe Road End. I've eaten most of my lunch only a few hours into play. Drurs and I retire to a shaded area in the upper Fox Road Stand for the afternoon session.

Managing director of England Cricket, Rob Key, is here to cast his eye over Essex's opening bowlers Sam Cook and Jamie Porter. It's worth the long trip as Notts are reeling at 78-5. 27 year old South African wicket keeper/batsman Kyle Verryenne comes to the rescue with a brilliant century on his seasonal debut.

Faggsy and I wander over Trent Bridge after the game. There's no time for a post-match beverage. We part company outside the Notts County ticket office. I queue for what seems an age as a few folk renew their season tickets. It's £27.50 to watch tonight's game - bloody hell, good job I won the Grand National.

Salford City are tonight's visitors. Trumpy Bolton and I saw them play away at Warrington about 15 years ago, when they only took three fans. 155 make the journey on a Coronation Street night (one for you there Edward).

I take my place in the Derek Pavis Stand, as Salford win the toss and spin round the home side, so they attack the Kop End, that's usually saved for the second half. The Pies form has been indifferent. They have had more recent successes on the road. Jodi Jones has been sorely missed, as has Dan Crowley (whisper that quietly) who has departed to MK Dons ('Voldemort FC').

The first half is bloody awful. Even an overexcited young boy, sitting behind me with his grandad, gets bored and starts blowing raspberries. Salford score a fortuitous goal on the stroke of half time after a miscommunication between the two officials. The game has been crying out for goal, maybe a few substitutions can fire up the home side.

There's a triple substitution made by an under pressure Stuart Maynard, who is sat in the stands, after three yellow cards. Jack Hinchy is unfortunate to be hooked, as he has at least tried to keep the ball moving and has got it out wide, despite being under pressure. 

Notts are soon 2-0 down with the lively 10 jacket, N'Mai, reacting the quickest to a parried shot. McGoldrick reduces arrears from close range after a corner. But Luke Garbutt puts the game to bed, at the second time of asking.Tempers are frayed in the Derek Pavis Stand, at the final whistle, as two County supporters are kept apart, as a feud has been brewing.

On Saturday after a 7 hour shift at the fun factory it's down to Trent Bridge for the afternoon and evening session. We can hear the noise of fans drifting over from The City Ground. At 4.50pm a supporter sat in the stand says Everton have scored. "Who was it?", I enquire, "Doucoure." I had a £2 first goalscorer (16/1) and £2 anytime bet (13/2) on the Mali international scoring. Sorry Red Dog Roly, but that's my night out paid for. I can't 'arf pick 'em.

Attendance: 9,643

Man of the Match: Abdoulaye Doucoure (Sorry NFFC Fans)

Song I liked on the Radio: CMAT, Running/PlanningBest 

Best Beer Supped this week: Eunomia, Tartarus

Nottingham Forest 1-0 Manchester United

The game has ended 1-1 in the East Riding of Yorkshire. We see out the afternoon in the North Ferriby FC clubhouse. They have a session SALT craft ale on behind the bar. I sink a couple whilst the players tuck in to the snap that has been laid on by our hosts. The banter is flying around the bus on the journey home. After a rip roaring set earlier in the day, 'Disco Dave' is now taking requests. Blog legend Edward asks for Rasputin by German 70s disco band Boney M. I ask him to perform, in the aisle, the Russian cossack dance called the Kozachoc. He politely declines my request.

Aggro Nige' isn't hijacking the decks, as he is too occupied and immersed in following NFFC's quarter final tie versus Brighton, down on the south coast. The game is as dull as dishwater. Cometh the man, cometh the hour. Sticky's favourite, Ryan Yates, blasts home the final spot kick to send the Tricky Trees to Wembley.

I'm dog tired when Edward very kindly drops me off at home at 8.30 pm. Ms Moon asks me if I want to play Lee Mack's 1% Club quiz show. As previously mentioned, Ms Moon has a higher IQ than Sticky. You wouldn't have thought so this evening readers, as I breezed my way to a rare victory.

It's Monday evening and I've just alighted a Nottingham City Transport bus, adjacent to The Cornerhouse complex. The plan was to have a spot of food at Slice n Brew, one of my favourite pizza joints. It never seems to be open on a Monday. I head down King's Walk, through Market Square, where folk are basking in the glorious late afternoon sunshine, and onto Victoria Street, where Rudy's Pizza Napoletana restaurant is located.

I grab a table for one and order up a soft drink and a salami pizza with a chilli and honey dip. My oh my, it's delicious folks. I walk it off in the city centre, whilst looking up and admiring the wonderful architecture that our city is so proud of.

The doorbell rings as I enter the quaint and quirky Barrel Drop micropub that's hidden away up Hurts Yard. I nurse a half pint of a cherry Raven Magpie dark stout beer, as I've overindulged at the weekend and I'm not in the mood for alcohol on a school night. Blog legends Tony Mac and DJ Murph are also in attendance. We're joined later by 'Aggro Nige', his partner Sue, blog reader and diehard Notts County fan Sean and his wife.

The reason for our gathering is that Irish post punk band, Gurriers, are playing Rescue Rooms. The original gig was at The Bodega, but tickets sold out so quickly that there has been a venue upgrade. £14 is a steal to watch the Dublin lads. Mac and I caught them in action at the Hare and Hounds, an iconic music venue in Kings Heath, Birmingham, at the back end of 2024. They blew the house down that evening.

DJ Murph is raving about the support band from Limerick called Theatre - what a terrible name to search on Google. We're only here for the main act; they don't disappoint. The set is full of energy, shouty vocals and loud guitars. Murph slopes off half an hour into the set, mumbling that they are average. The sellout crowd would beg to differ.

The diet is out of the window the following evening. I grab a cheeseburger at Five Guys before making my way through the Meadows on route to The City Ground. I sit on the banks of the river Trent listening to the bagpipes playing as the sun sets.

I'm in the ground 75 minutes before kick off - this is pretty impressive, even by my OCD standards. I paid £52 for my ticket - the last time I shelled out this sort of lolly was to watch The Cure in Birmingham, a couple of years ago.

I'm sitting a few rows above the players' tunnel. It gives me a bird's eye view of all pre-match activities. I can see makeup being applied to Ally McCoist, Martin O'Neill and Rio Ferdinand. TNT commentator, Darren Fletcher, who ironically lives just down the road, scurries off to his commentary position up at the top of the gantry. The Big Man (Mr Marinakis) makes an appearance on the pitch. He's dressed casually in a jacket and a white T-shirt - I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of the Big 'un.

The DJ set, prior to the turgid stuff they play 15 minutes before kick off, is excellent. A lot of it is early 90s dance music. I used to love the DJ at NFFC, a few years back, who just used to play all the Madchester stuff like the Happy Mondays, Black Grape, The Charlatans and Stone Roses.

It's a pulsating game of football. Anthony Elanga latches onto a Ryan Yates headed clearance. He leaves a few players for dead before unleashing a shot that hits the back of the onion bag. The noise is deafening. United's away support is up there with the best in the country. Win or lose, they never stop singing. The guile, skill and speed of Garnacho gives them something to cheer about. But they are toothless up top, with nothing for the 20 year old Argentine to aim at or fire into.

There's a sensational end to the game when a Harry Maguire effort is cleared off the line by the Brazilian, Murillo. At the final whistle the players fall to the ground in exhaustion. I walk home over Trent Bridge with a spring in my step and fireworks high in the sky. It was some game for the neutral to view.

I stroll down to Trent Bridge Cricket Ground on Thursday morning, via the canal, where a few nasty Canadian geese are having a hissy fit. I renew my cricket season ticket to the tune of £209 - it's incredibly good value, considering the amount of games you can go to. I wander back into town and jump on a tram that heads up to Radford. I enjoy a couple of afternoon beers in the garden of the Lion, in Basford.

It's 'Christmas Day' on Thursday morning - more commonly known as the first day of the cricket season. I take my seat in a sun-drenched Lower Radcliffe Road Stand. I'm sat with Drurs and an old history teacher from South Wolds Comprehensive School, in Keyworth, called Peter Ford.

It's a fantastic day's cricket with Durham posting 376-9. Notts's overseas Australian bowler, Fergus O'Neill, has taken four wickets on his debut. I enjoy a couple of pints of 'Plain Sailing' with Red Dog Roly in the Fox and Grapes in the 'Nottingham Covent Garden.'

I volunteered for an extra shift at the shop on Saturday morning as they are short on personnel. It's a 4 am alarm call. Chippy Fryer and I enjoy some terrific bants with the general public of Arnold as they purchase the Daily Mail. We shout to all and sundry to back 'Nick Rockett' in the Grand National. In the real world my name is Nick.

I grab a power nap on return to HQ. I head out down Burton Road with clear blue skies and a stiff breeze at my back. The expectation of the Millers' faithful today is another three points. There's an astonishing wind-assisted 50 yard strike from Nat Watson that puts Carlton 1-0 up. It's no fluke, folks. 

The visitors, Brighouse (minus the brass band) are deservedly on level terms shortly before the break.  A cross from the winger, who is in acres of space, is headed home from close range. Carlton can't get a stranglehold on the game. They'll need a reset at the break, as well as a few choice words, as the levels will need to be upped.

The clubhouse is packed as two horses jump together at the final fence of Aintree's Grand National. "What are their names?"  I ask a keen racegoer. "Nick Rockett and I Am Maximus", he replies. I've backed 'em both. I tell Jon Gilbert, Duds and Framey: "I can't 'arf pick 'em." It's my round.

Brighouse continue to impress. There are some fine saves by 'Felix the Cat' who keeps them at bay. At the death their sub fires over from a few yards out when it looked like it was easier to score.

Attendance: 233

Man of the Match: Nick Rockett

Beer of the Week: 'Plain Sailing' Otherworld Brewery, Dalkeith, Scotland

Best Song Heard on the Radio: Stones Throw, Greentea Peng

North Ferriby 1-1 Carlton Town

It's 5pm, and I'm sitting in the Millers clubhouse celebrating a 3-1 win over Ossett United with club sponsor and good friend Jon Gilbert. We're both quaffing 'Day Tripper', a Liquid Light craft beer. It's a brewery that's based in the Sneinton and St Anns area of Nottingham.We're packed in like sardines; there's standing room only. The exhausted players file in one by one; they have given their all during a sublime second half performance, where a cricket score would have been posted, had it not been for the Ossett stopper.

A very special presentation is about to be made to one of the club's all-time greats. In a day and age of Non League players drifting from club to club, not caring two hoots, just for an extra tenner, here or there, the Carlton Town captain, Niall Davie, has racked up an incredible 300 first team appearances, at the age of 27 years old. He also, in the club's hour of need, scored one of the greatest goals in the history of the club. I had the privilege of witnessing that event, up in Hebburn, on a chilly March evening, back in 2023.

There's a heart-warming and emotional speech from Tommy Brookbanks, followed up with an acknowledgement and thank you from Niall, who is looked up to and respected by all at the club. His mum and dad look on, glowing with pride.

Ten of this squad have made over 100 Club appearances. Lawrence Gorman is on 184 and Dan Brown on 203. I leave the ground with DJ Murph entertaining the crowd with an alternative set. I finish up the evening with Ms Moon celebrating a 60th birthday party at the Cosy Club on Victoria Street. It's an iconic building that dates back to 1870 - I wish the beer did too, as the Brixton Pale ale is akin to dishwater, and gin measures are measly, unlike the Reef where they are full to the brim. Supper is a mini kebab from Vegas on Carlton Hill. Google reviews are spot on. Support your local businesses. 

I'm back down Stoke Lane on Tuesday evening. 'The Keyworth Georgie Best' 'Sizzers' and 'You've Been Framed' are also in attendance. It's another six pointer. The visitors, Emley, have had a dip in form, but will prove to be a tough nut to crack. They once knocked my team, Lincoln City, out of the FA Cup, before narrowly losing to West Ham 2-1 in the 3rd round back in 1998.

Liam Moran is firing on all cylinders. A quick word on this lad. He pitched up from a lower level of the game in the pre-season, before suffering an ankle injury. He's had to battle to win game time and you could see his confidence and self-esteem was low. A Tommy Brookbanks masterstroke saw him loaned out briefly over the Christmas period. He returned to the first team, knuckled down and won over the doubting Thomas's. He opens the scoring after pouncing on to a scuffed clearance.

It's nip and tuck in the second half as I wander over to meet Faggsy, who is across the way in the Malc Brown Stand - Malc, ironically, is AWOL in Lanzarote. We celebrate a hard-earned three points with a couple of Magpie real ales in the Old Volunteer.

Ms Moon is down in Brighton on business for three days. It's pretty clear that Virgin Media are unaware of her whereabouts as they called today (Thursday) to ask why the TV set hasn't been switched on for the last 72 hours. Normal service will be resumed at the weekend with Catch Up TV and Four in a Bed.

There have been some very flustered and worried pensioners popping into the newsagent's this week for their 82p issue of What's On TV. The breaking news is that The Farm's number one heartthrob, Caleb, is missing. "Do you think he's dead?" asks Maureen. "No love, he's gone on holiday to Scarborough for a couple of weeks", I reply.

It's Friday morning, and once again I'm loitering around Nottingham train station, minus my 'right arm' (Tony Mac) who is off to watch Spiritualize in Bristol. It's another Keyworth Jolly Boys Outing, to that there London. It's on days like these that you need a hearty 'Spoons breakfast, and less so the pint of Alpha Female from Roosters Brewery that accompanies it.

Ex Conservative Party supporter, Matt Limon, maps out a phenomenal trip. The beer isn't all that down Sarf, but the historical pubs more than make up for it. 16x Good Pub Guide tick offs are completed. We concentrate on the Soho and Covent Garden areas before finishing up at the Parcel Yard in King's Cross. The best beer of the day is back at Brew Tavern, in Notts, where Wallsend Brewery, Two by Two, have a 6% abv ale on. It's a beauty folks. Wallsend, in Tyne and Wear, has a conveyor belt of football talent from the area including: Michael Carrick, Lee Clark and Brian Laws. 

Ms Moon's sister has stopped overnight as she is playing for an orchestra who are performing the soundtrack from the 1982 film E.T. at the Royal Concert Hall. They are having lunch together in town prior to the show. There are already a few people milling around the Estadio El Stokio as I walk through the gates of Carlton Town for the third time in 8 days.

Support is a little thinner on the ground today for the visit up to the East Riding of Yorkshire. A few of the Millers are down on the south coast where the Tricky Trees take on the Seagulls in an FA Cup quarter final tie. The roll call for the coach includes: Club Shop Ken, Murph, Disco Dave, Justin, Aggro Nige, Sonya, Elliot, Unders, Edward and James.

Most of the squad board the coach at Millers Barn, with a few more joining us at Junction 29. Former Millers legend, Grant Brindley, has donated his £50 '200 Club' winnings to buying some beer for the supporters and players for the return coach journey home - nice touch that Grant.

'Disco Dave' has got the toons on. Pet Shop Boys and ELO are the pick of the bunch as we pull in at Scunthorpe Services, so the players can get some food. 'Aggro Nige' hijacks the decks as we head nearer to Yorkshire. Mark E Smith, of The Fall, belts out 'Hit the North', Sparta FC' and a belter of a cover version of Sister Sledge's 'Lost in Music' - What's On TV subscriber and Daily Mail reader, Edward, is mightily impressed.

The coach drops us off at the Duke of Cumberland, a pub in the village, that's a short walk from North Ferriby's ground, We're joined by 'Split Ticket Sam' who has travelled over from Stockport. Justin very kindly buys me a pint of Wainwright's, although I'm still feeling a tad fragile. It's a lovely stroll up to the ground, past the village hall and War Memorial. It's £8 on the gate. The ground is magnificent. I've been a few times when my mate's lad (Ross Durrant) played in the nets for Ferriby. I also came to a sold out pre-season friendly versus Hull City, when we had to pick up tickets from the local post office.

I take advantage of the empty, padded seats in the 'Visiting Directors' Box.' The Millers play with a stiff breeze at their backs. It's a scrappy opening, with nothing doing, until an in-form Moran gets round the back before falling to the ground, the referee points to the spot. The locals around me are incandescent with rage. I remain unmoved and keep my head down as "10 more years, 10 more years Niall Davie" blasts home the spot kick. The Carlton Cattermole should have doubled their lead, but his effort is blocked by the alert 'keeper.

Lewis Durow spurns a golden chance, early in the second half, to put the game to bed from close range, just before the hour. Ferriby have rarely threatened, but are back in the game when they score direct from a corner. They get their pecker up and begin to dominate the middle of the park; slicing through it like a knife through butter. A flurry of substitutions steadies the ship for the Millers. Watson nearly wins it for them after weaving his way through. only to see his blistering strike cannon off the bar.

The long, unbeaten run continues, with only one loss in the last 18 outings. You'd take a point before the game, but they might end up ruing those missed opportunities.

Man of the Match: Dean Freeman (back four, to a man, were magnificent)

Attendance: 339

Beer of the Week: Two By Two - Citra Simcoe Ekuanot IPA 6% abv

Best Record I've Heard This Week: Ian Brown, 'Golden Gaze.' 2000

Credit photos: Steve McKeown and Lou Lardi

Carlton Town 3-1 Ossett United

It's Monday 3rd March and I've plonked my backside in Nottingham Forest's 'A' Block for the first time since the Steve Cooper days. I miss my midweek outings to The City Ground. I look back at my blogs gone by when Reading, Millwall and Hull City were the visitors and wonder where the additional 13,000 fans were hiding in those days; not to mention the 11,000 who are on the season ticket waiting list.

I'm sat with Sticky jnr, who to his credit has supported the Tricky Trees through thick and thin; mostly the latter. Aitor Karanka and Mark Warburton seem a distant memory. The Tractor Boys, from Ipswich, are tonight's visitors for an FA Cup tie. I engage with a steward, who is actually a Lincoln City fan. He says only 8,000 NFFC season ticket holders have taken up the option of watching tonight's game - bet they'll be at Wembley, should fortune be on Forest's side.

The Tricky Trees aren't really at the races. Danilo and Sangare are way off the pace. It's the leadership, grit and sheer determination of skipper Ryan Yates who gets Forest back in the game, after somehow they had fallen behind to a George Hirst header.

'A' Block are on fire with their witty ditties. I join in with the 'Tax Dodging Farmers' chant that's aimed at the away following. The penalty shootout is never in doubt. Belgian 'keeper Matz Sels gets down well to push away the final spot kick to see Forest into the quarter finals. I have more pressing matters to attend to as I peg it up London Road, I've a 2.30 a.m alarm call, and for once it's not for 'media duties.' (MSR)

Wayne the taxi driver arrives at 3 a.m. on the dot. I've actually had zero hours kip for the first time since an all-night party at Mark Brown's house, on Selby Lane, Keyworth, back in 1978, when I inherited the nickname 'Sticky' as I was about 8 stone wet through back then.

We've a Ryanair flight out of East Midlands Airport at the ridiculous time of 5.45 a.m. I (we) sleep for three hours during the flight. It's fantastic to return to the sunnier climes of Tenerife after over a year away. For two weeks as well, folks: happy days indeed.

We're staying at Port Royale, a complex at the back of Los Cristianos. The climb from the harbour to our apartment can only compare with 'Donkey Hill' in St Anns or the walk from Matlock train station to the Thorn Tree pub. If you aren't gasping for air after either of these hard slogs then you should donate your lungs to medical research.

Tenerife never disappoints. The walks up the coast, meals in La Caleta harbour, the tribute bands in the bars, the seven mile stroll through Los Cris, Playa de las Americas up through to Costa Adeje, that is dripping with sunshine.

I manage to get three games of Canarian League football in. The standard isn't great, but it always puts a smile on my face. The first game was up in the hills at San Isidro, where the visitors were from Las Palmas, in Gran Canaria - there's a deadly rivalry between the two islands, and if it all kicks off then I'm tooled up with a bucket and spade with the Reef lads. The visitors arrived on the back of a four month unbeaten run. Their goalkeeper was red-carded with ten minutes remaining for almost decapitating Isidro's 9 jacket. 2-2 felt like a win.

The following day I treat Ms Moon to a lunchtime kick off at CD Marino, whose stadium is at the back of Kn Columbus hotel in Playas. A 3-0 reverse doesn't dampen my enthusiasm or love for Marino. The final match was miles up in the mountains. I foolishly under-clubbed it on the clothes front. It was 23 degrees and sunny when I left Los Cris. I was the only supporter wearing shorts at San Miguel's stadium. Most have thick coats on and are clutching brollies as black clouds began to blow in. I asked for a San Miguel, the barman said they only have Mahou - "but the village is called San Miguel" I exclaimed, as I was comforted by the warmth of the bar. The game was awful, but thankfully there was a goal which brought some cheer and a glow for the locals.

There were a few tears shed by Ms Moon when the devastating news was received from blog regular Mr John Harris (by twitter dm) that ITV's flagship show Dancing on Ice is to be axed from their winter schedule. I have to pay the cleaner an extra 20 euros to mop up the river of tears that have flooded the apartment. I thought I'd cheer her up by playing cards (rummy) on the balcony each night. Unfortunately she lost 80-65 over the two week period. I celebrated with my annual cigarette, which coincides with my 30th anniversary of 'No Smoking.'

The holiday ends on a high note when we lunch with fellow Carlton Town fan Nigel Harlow and his partner Sue, in the harbour at La Caleta on Sunday lunchtime. I don't think we'll return for Cheltenham Week or St Patrick's Day, as all the resorts were full to the brim, making it hard to get served or book a table.

I'm sat in the Stratford Haven, in West Bridgford, an hour after landing at East Midlands Airport. Tonight Carlton Town are playing up near Wakefield, in West Yorkshire. The Mighty Millers are on a great run of form, it's a game not to be missed. Club sponsor and an old school friend of Ms Moon's, Jon Gilbert, picks me up outside the Co-op. We enjoy some banter on the journey up the M1, grabbing a chippy tea a few miles from the ground.

The usual suspects are holed up at the ground - DJ Murph, Danny, Dean, Justin, Johnny, Aidan, Pete and his carer Dylan. The Millers play a beautiful game and deservedly take the lead through the in-form Liam Moran. Chances are spurned to be out of sight. The inevitable happens after a mix up. Immediately from the restart Nat Watson sees a speculative shot from 60 yards just dip the wrong side of the post with the Liversedge 'keeper stranded.

It's a brilliant game for the neutral in the second half. Carlton shade it 3-2, but overall deserve the win. It maintains their good run of form. We're as happy as Larry and euphoric on the journey home.

Thursday tea time is spent with Crazy Steve in the VAT and Fiddle and TBI before attending a Notts Cricket Lovers' Society meeting where the guest speaker is Derbyshire CCC captain Wayne Madsen who has some entertaining anecdotes as well as an interesting journey and successful career.

The pace is relentless since returning from the Reef. On Friday I grab a bacon sandwich and Americano at the Hungry Pumpkin before meeting up with Tony Mac at Nottingham Railway Station. We catch the 9.16 to Stoke-on-Trent where we have some Good Beer Guide unfinished business.

We wander down the Trent Mersey Canal towards Etruria where the Holy Inadequate pub will be opening at midday. The only times, over the years, where I've had to wait for a pub to open, have usually been in the company of Mr Trumpy Bolton.

A few miles up the road is the town of Newcastle-under-Lyme. It has a population of over 75,000. Notable people from the town include: ex Stoke City kitman 'Nello', who starred in the best film ever, 'Marvellous', footballer Robbie Earle and cricketer Dominic Cork.

We're taken aback at how smart the town is. There's a park which houses statues of Queen Elizabeth II and Queen Victoria. The pubs are magnificent. Ones for the notebook include: The Hop Inn and Bridge Street Ale House. 

We jump in an Uber and head up to Burslem where one pub was closed on our last visit. A new entry is Ye Olde Crown. A few early Clash tracks see out a brilliant end to another superb trip out.

A long overdue lie-in is taken on Saturday morning. Ms Moon's friend Jill has come round for coffee as I slip out of the door and head down to Carlton's number one chippy Oceans. The owner is grumpy today and chooses not to engage in small talk - at least the fish, chips and curry sauce are on form.

It starts to rain as I make the half an hour walk down to Stoke Lane. On arrival the supporters are seeing out a game of Sticky 13s in the clubhouse. DJ Murph plays a cracking track by Leeds band The Sunshine Underground called 'I Ain't Losing Any Sleep.

'Today is 'Niall Davie Day' as Carlton's Captain, Leader and Role Model makes his 300th appearance for the club. A presentation is to be made after the game in the clubhouse - more on that next week.

The rain has set in and is falling quite heavily as the players emerge from the changing rooms. It's a scrappy opening with the visitors having the better of the exchanges. The Ref has worse eyesight than me, when Manneh is sent tumbling, a penalty isn't awarded, despite the whistle being drawn to his mouth.

Watson scores from a peach of a free kick. Moran doubles the lead after picking the pocket of a dozing defender before slotting the ball past an advancing 'keeper. Two to the good, they'll take that, despite being nowhere near the levels required by Tommy Brookbanks and his backroom team.

Ossett pull a goal back. but are soon behind again following a pinpoint corner and flick on which sees a smart finish by Dean Freeman at the back post. If it wasn't for the efforts of the visiting stopper then half a dozen goals wouldn't have flattered the Millers.

Attendance: 286

Man of the Match: Ossett 'Keeper

Record of the Week: The Sunshine Underground, 'I Ain't Losing Any Sleep.'

Beer of the Week: DouGall's, Hazy APA (Spanish microbrewery)

North Gawber Colliery 4-1 Kiveton Park

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