Bilborough Pelican FC 3 Dunkirk FC 1

I was meant to be watching the film Control tonight. It’s about the life of Joy Division cult lead singer, Ian Curtis. Apparently it’s more depressing than being a season ticket holder at Field Mill.

My mate Taggart, (miserable Scotsman) is stuck on the M25 and can’t make the film. Sticky jnr is on a residential trip with school in Derbyshire and “The Skipper” is training with his team down the Powerleague.

I surf the net for a fixture and come up with a gem on football mitoo: a blood and guts local cup clash between Bilborough Pelican FC and Dunkirk FC.

The Taxman is up for it and we arrange to meet White Van Man at the Brian Wakefield Memorial Ground on Lenton Lane.

It’s a bargain £2 entry, including programme and parking. I bump into a few junior managers I know from my scouting and coaching days; they express concern that I no longer coach. “The Skipper” is sought after, but he just enjoys playing for his village, with his mates.

Bilborough Pelican FC is an amalgamation of two clubs; this season they have dropped back into the NSL. They share this venue with Unity Casuals Cricket Club. Dunkirk play in two leagues above. I rate them highly; a few weeks ago I saw them blow away Blackwell MW with a powerful display of high tempo football.

The midfield engine-room has departed since then: Marquin Smith has gone to Carlton and Jack Reid to Heanor, they will be missed. Dave Harbottle’s men dug deep into their reserves last weekend, with an epic encounter against Gedling MW in the FA Vase.

The mist rolls in off the chilly waters of the nearby River Trent. It’s an absorbing game of football for the neutral. Tyrone Cairns is Dunkirk’s centre-forward this evening; I prefer him on the right wing, but his pace unsettles the home defence. He wastes two good chances early on.

It’s a man’s game, without malice. There are personal battles all over the park, but total respect. Everybody wants it; Bilborough Pelican that little bit more.

Roy Sharp has done the rounds, but tonight he looks lean and mean, and more importantly, hungry. He is dynamic. He cushions the ball and is full of ideas and not afraid to unleash the trigger. He opens the scoring, turning his defender, finding space, and expertly curling a delicious shot over the visiting keeper, Lowe. He’s denied a penalty before the break; he has plenty to say about that one. Bilborough Pelican are impressive.

I’m informed by an official of the Notts FA that tonight’s referee is being fast-tracked through the leagues, he is young and ambitious. I hope for his sake there’s no referee’s assessor here tonight, he blows his whistle louder and more frequently than Tony Blair’s mate, Dr David Kelly. There are five or six unnecessary bookings. The tackling is hard but not crude.



Footballing journeyman, Mark Nangle, has landed at Dunkirk, he’s still got it, but BP’s big number four is dishing it out. Nangle is to be commended for showing tremendous restraint. Young Joel Wilson is absent tonight, both he and Nangle will be a formidable partnership for The Boatmen.

A familiar pattern continues in the second half with BP playing the better football. Sharp converts a left wing cross, to put them two up. He draws breath on an imaginary cigar, playing to the crowd, he is loving it.

Word on the touchline spreads that some cars have been broken into. I nip and check that Sally Gunnell (not much to look at but a bloody good runner) is OK.. By the time I return James Hendry, who has bust a gut tonight, has made it 3-0.

Dunkirk are not at the races, they are disappointing and play without width. They camp in the BP half for the final 15 minutes and have a late rally, scoring from a corner.

They find the BP goalkeeper in fine form. Ian Barker gives a master class in the art of goalkeeping. His handling, punching, kicking and positioning are first-class. Too much is often mentioned about outfield players. Barker has been a major influence in his side’s cup upset tonight.

We finish the night off with a couple of pints of Thwaites Lancaster Bomber in a nearby country pub, with a roaring log fire. It’s the perfect end to the day.

Bilborough Pelican 3 Sharp (2) Hendry Dunkirk FC 1 Pratt

Attendance: Unconfirmed (nearly 100)

Man of the Match: Ian Barker

Retford United 1 Nantwich Town 2

Did you see Dida, AC Milan’s goalkeeper at Celtic Park the other night? Christ almighty, he went down quicker than the Italian Army in the Second World War. Fair play to him though, have you ever smelt a Scotsman’s breath after a dozen tinnies of Tartan Ale?

I’ve had my eye on coming to Retford for a while now, and this mouth-watering fixture versus Cheshire’s Nantwich Town fits the bill perfectly.

Retford is a market town in North Notts with a population of just over 20,000. Famous people from this area include: Stoke City’s Liam Lawrence and the greatest fielder the world has ever seen (apart from me) Derek Randall – Arkle to his friends.

103 year old resident, Esme Collins, has been in the news this week; she was turfed out a nursing home after the owners insisted on a further £100 a week. Sadly she didn’t last a week at her new abode.

The A46 and A614, which I travel up today is a drive down National Coal Board memory lane. I pass signposts for Cotgrave, Calverton, Blidworth, Rainworth, Bilsthorpe and Ollerton; the pits are gone but never forgotten.

I drive past Clumber Park and skirt around Retford town centre. Cannon Park is on the edge of Retford, it’s a handsome setting, and parking is free. It’s £6 to get in, with a further £1.50 for a supreme programme.

It’s 2.30pm and already busy. The Cannon Park Social Club is a hidden treasure, as good as it gets, only Gainsborough Trinity has topped it for me. Everything a clubhouse should have is here: endless photos on the wall, trophies, replica shirts, table football and a pool table.

Three generations of families sit together, unfortunately they’re watching the rugby, thankfully my back is turned to the telly. I ask you, who wants to watch a bunch of Coppers and barristers throwing an egg around? I swig my pint of Grolsch at £2.60.

Retford United are managed by ex-Blade, Peter Duffield, whilst the visitors, Nantwich, have former Barnsley defender Steve Davis as boss. Both teams are bang in form and something has to give. Retford’s Barbadian international, Neil Harvey and former Sheff Utd winger, Adrian Littlejohn, are both absent today. That’s disappointed me.

The Badgers have had a meteoric rise up the non-league rankings; it was only a few years ago that they played in the Notts Alliance. They were only formed in 1987. Nantwich Town won the FA Vase in 2005/2006.

The hosts look nervous from the start, as if the weight of being league leaders is a burden on their shoulders. In comparison the Dabbers are not short of confidence and are on an unbeaten run of their own.

Retford try to out muscle them and after a few heavy challenges pay the price. Impish winger Danny Griggs catches the home defence cold with a quickly taken free-kick, 1-0 Nantwich. The visitors are cavalier in their approach and are always looking to play their wingers in.



Retford continue to give away possession cheaply and it’s soon 2-0, with a firm header from Bott from yet another accurate cross from Griggs, after he had once again shown the home defence a clean pair of heels.

Retford are all over the show and swap full-backs to no avail. Nantwich 7 jacket, Ashley Carter, is a class act, he is poetry in motion on the ball; he runs inside and out and bamboozles the Badgers’ defence on every occasion. He is like a gazelle. Retford are lucky to be only two down at the break. Everyone is having a good old moan about the ref, but for me he allows the game to flow.

After the break, Retford play with more purpose and passion, there’s more movement and pace. Godber reduces the deficit and the visitor’s baton up the hatches for the final quarter.

Ryan Hindley drives forward with the ball but it’s not meant to be. They pay the price for a sloppy first forty five. Rob Hackney, the Dabbers’ keeper uses his large frame to effect and makes some fine blocks.

Simpkins and Chambers are powerful at the rear for Retford, they aren’t up against any real pace today, but where the visitors are really clever is that there front two play in the wingers on both flanks, where they get round the back. I can’t wait to see Nantwich again; they could be this season’s Cammell Laird.

Retford Utd 1 Godber Nantwich Town 2 Griggs and Bott

Attendance: 238

Man of the Match: Ashley Carter.

Long Eaton United 0 Pickering Town 2

Mrs P has entered into the world of free enterprise. The good lady is delivering catalogues for Kleeneze cleaning products. Naturally I’m delighted, it means I can, with the extra revenue generated, visit more upmarket grounds, such as Stevenage, Rushden and Diamonds and Worcester City.

If you would like any cleaning products, egg timers or Christmas Cards please leave a comment on the blog.

White Van Man has been on the blower, he’s been asked to scout for a Unibond Premier League club and tonight’s target is playing in this Northern Counties East League clash.

He’s got the hump, he saw a 0-0 on Saturday. I text him all 5 goals from Boston. We’re there in 20 minutes, although, I cock it up, and miss a turning, despite having been here a few times before.

WVM has tickets on the gate. He has gained V.I.P. status. I came last year to a FA Cup tie against Warrington. Long Eaton were dire that day. I’m hoping for an improved performance tonight, on a level playing field.

Long Eaton, unfortunately for Notts’ exiles, is in Derbyshire (just), I can confirm this from passing a signpost on the way in.

It has a population of 38,000, from which a miserly 42!!! turn up this evening. In 1981 Sticky P bagged an away win on the pools coupon in Donovan’s nightspot, when he stole a young bride from beneath the preying eyes of The Sheep, and whisked her back over the border into the Mecca better known as Nottingham. I even treated her to a single ticket home on a Barton’s Bus in the morning, seeing her safely back across the cattle grid.

This area is a breeding ground for footballers: Mark Draper, Lewis McGugan and Nottingham’s No.1 carpet fitter, Garry Birtles are all from this area. Birtles was certainly more entertaining on the pitch than he is as a summariser on Sky Sports.

It’s £4 admission fee and a £1 for the programme. We nip in the bar; Sticky has a quick half of Caffreys. I think they could do with a new carpet in here, but the bar staff are friendly.

Long Eaton have played at Grange Park for over 50 years. Jim Fairley is the Chairman; in fact Jim Fairley is everything: Long Eaton is his life. It’s a hive of activity tonight as three or four junior teams are training down here.

We elect to sit opposite “The Big Jim Stand” in another small seated area. There is only one person sat in there and I know him from years ago; we exchange pleasantries.

Pickering, tonight’s visitors, are from North Yorkshire. It’s a lovely little market town, if you get the chance to visit it. We hired a cottage up there one Christmas a few years ago; I don’t remember a better Christmas Day in my lifetime. Neil Warnock signed Craig and Chris Short from Pickering Town, whilst he was manager of Scarborough.

The pitch is bumpy and bobbly. The Pickering coach tells his defenders to “clear their lines.”

Long Eaton have a good spell of attacking football in the first fifteen minutes. The Pickering 'keeper looks nervous on crosses and the home team go close on several occasions.

Pickering begin to get a stranglehold on the midfield, they are dominant down the right hand side. A sweeping move on 22 minutes ends with Matthew Biggins side footing home a cross from the right. I haven’t a team sheet tonight and I’m struggling for players’ names. Pickering hit the bar; the home team’s heads are down.




We have a stroll round the ground at half-time and partake in a tea and Bovril at the snack bar, where WVM has some banter with the girls serving.

We stand on the opposite side of the pitch and Pickering really up the tempo. It’s no surprise when Biggins makes it 2-0 on 73 minutes.

Pickering are impressive and move the ball around nicely. Long Eaton hardly have a shot of worthy note. Greening, Pickering’s No.10, has ran the home defence ragged. Long Eaton are sponsored by McDonalds; they’ll be no Happy Meal tonight.

The player that WVM has scouted has been ineffective; I’m amazed he wasn’t subbed. WVM gets the call from UPL manager on the way home, he’s kacking himself. “Just tell him the truth” I say, “You’re putting your reputation on the line.”

Long Eaton Utd 0 Pickering Town 2 Biggins 2

Attendance : 42

Man of the Match: Greening.

Boston United 4 Buxton FC 1

Mrs P has joined the anti-rugby brigade, courtesy of ITV’s decision to cancel Coronation St in favour of England v Tonga. Like I said before, surely ITV 4 is tailor-made for minority sports?

I could write a book on Boston United, being a Lincoln City fan I have little sympathy for them. The Taxman can’t come today; he spent enough time here during slimy Steve Evans’s period in charge, inspecting the “cooked” books.

For a five year period, they failed to declare over a quarter of a million pounds worth of PAYE and National Insurance contributions; cheating their way out the Conference at the expense of Dagenham and Redbridge.

Football never fails to surprise me; this crook is now at the helm of Sussex Blue Square Conference team, Crawley Town.

Still this little club court controversy, recently they signed full-back Rob Wesley, who is serving time at nearby North Sea Camp open prison. He took part in cash machine raids at supermarkets and slashed a horse to death.

In the programme they have a Q&A profile on him. One of the questions is what is your favourite electronic gadget? I thought his answer might be the electronic tagging device he probably has wear on match days. Sadly he shows no sense of humour. Playstation 2 is the predictable answer.

Crap author, Jeffrey Archer, had a short spell at Boston. Unfortunately this too was at North Sea Camp. He was jailed for four years, not for writing atrocious literature (although the judge should have added a year on for that) but for perjury and perverting the course of justice.

The journey to Boston is a shocker. You go through the bottle-neck of Grantham and along the dangerous and laborious A52. I park on a cul-de-sac and head for one of my all-time fave chippies, Eagles.

It’s £4 for fish and chips and I wash this down with a fine pint of Bateman’s at the snug Coach and Horses. There’s the sound of ambulances in the distance and the voices of Eastern European children in the streets playing. I imagine it to be a bit of a scary place at night.

Today’s game is an FA Cup tie, I pay £12 entry fee and a further £2.50 for a programme. York Street is blessed with beautiful sunshine today. Pre-match music sinks to an unthinkable low with Abba’s Lay All Your Love on Me. Neil Vickers is making his debut on the public address system, and he is having a nightmare. His microphone is Norman Collieresque and he stumbles and stutters his way through the starting line-ups.



The Pilgrims begin the game with wave after wave of attacks. Former imp Matt Bloomer fires a shot in from the edge of the box, the ball falls fortuitously at the feet of ex Ipswich forward Kieran Leabon, he makes no mistake. They are soon two up courtesy of a David Galbraith penalty following a blatant foul on O’Halloran.

Buxton begin to find their feet after their early wobble, Towey and Macpherson go close. An Ellender own goal puts them back in the game. Their approach work is tremendous but they are lightweight upfront. The Pilgrims’ centre pairing of Ellender and Crane are too strong for the slender front partnership of Bingham and Reed. The former is trying, the latter barely breaks sweat.

Adam Smith, is on loan from The Posh and is getting some joy down the left side, he floats a delightful ball to the far post for John Froggatt to make it 3-1. The game is no contest on 52 minutes with Leabon getting his second of the afternoon following good work by O’Halloran.

Buxton hit back and former Manchester United trainee Lee Crockett has to be at his best to keep out a Ridley drive and a follow-up from sub Paul Walker.

I see my best individual performance of the season from a player today whose side are 4-1 down. Buxton skipper, Anton Foster, is inspirational. He fights tooth and nail for every ball, closing down his opponent rapidly. His feet are quick, his passing incisive, he wants it so badly. At 27 years old it’s not too late for him to play higher up the pyramid.

I’ve enjoyed the day and not the drive, Boston played some sparkling stuff and it will be interesting to watch their progress in the Blue Square Conference North.

Boston 4 Leabon 2 Galbraith and Froggatt Buxton 1 Ellender og.

Attendance: 1347

Man of the Match: Anton Foster.

Hednesford Town 2 Ilkeston Town 0

I got the call-up for the Boss Hogg Sunday X1. They had their final fixture of the cricketing season at the picturesque setting of Colston Bassett, which is where Stilton Cheese is made.

All was going well for yours truly, a couple of catches and some tight bowling, and there was I thinking this game is a piece of p*ss. Unfortunately for me, Duncan bowled one donkey drop too many. With the ball travelling at the speed of sound I made a heroic attempt at a hat-trick of catches.

I’m in Sally Gunnell driving like a lunatic down the quiet country lanes of the Vale of Belvoir towards the QMC. I’ve split my ring finger open and it is dislocated. If things couldn’t get any worse the Eastenders Omnibus edition is on at the A&E Department, on my arrival. Ninety minutes of Ian Beale could tip me over the edge.

Six hours later nurses have administered more injections on my hand than an afternoon surgery with Dr Harold Shipman. I’m sorry to say this but the NHS are a bigger joke than D**by County. It’s like a scene from Carry on Doctor.

White Van Man is driving tonight; we are joined by HM Inspector of Taxes. We meet in the Fairway Public House car park. I saw a crane in this excuse of a watering hole on Saturday and smiled at the delight of it being knocked to the ground; sadly there was a charity bungee jump being held.

We drive down the old A38, it’s years since I’ve been down here, and boy can WVM drive.

Hednesford is in Staffordshire, close to Cannock. It’s Forest legend Stanley Victor Collymore’s patch – he often took his “dog” for a walk down Cannock Chase. Former Man City and Macclesfield manager, Brian Horton, was born in the town. He has managed over one thousand league games. Hednesford has a population of 7,000. It’s famous for stock car racing and coal mining.

Both teams tonight are managed by former Forest players: The Pitmen by Phil “Bambi” Starbuck and Ilson by Nigel Jemson. Both are under pressure. Hednesford Town won the FA Trophy in 2004, a fantastic achievement for a town and club of this size.

We pay £9.50 to sit in the Main Stand behind the dug outs. It’s a bit fresh tonight and my ring finger is playing up. The ground is large but deserted, it’s soulless.

The Managing Director of the Pitmen has made a scathing attack on the players in the club’s programme. It’s no holds barred and an interesting read. Philip Starbuck’s patience has snapped too, Club Captain, Dave Macpherson has been stripped of the armband and placed on the transfer list.

Ilkeston are a bit light tonight. Two of my favourite players Paul Robinson and Chris Adam, now ply their trade for thehe Pitmen and not Ilson. Ironically Adam scores against his old club after six minutes, after being allowed too much time and space.

Ilkeston create very little, Holmes and Walker huff and puff. Jermaine Palmer, the son of Pies’ legend Charlie, is the Ilson centre forward tonight. WVM saw him rip Lincoln United to bits a few weeks ago, but he is powder-puff on this showing. The Pitmen have him in his pocket.

Jemmo is pure entertainment on the Ilson bench; he kicks every ball and questions every decision. “Gerd” Muller runs his socks off without reward.



Rene Gilmartin is the home team’s Achilles heel, but Ilson fail to exploit this. They have a good spell of pressure before the break but the ball just won’t drop for them.

WVM is a happy soul. I treat him to a Jumbo Hot Dog and a cup of tea, as a thank you for driving. There’s a non-league who’s who in the crowd tonight: Steve Burr at Stalybridge Celtic and Eastwood’s Paul Cox sit in the stands, as well as a couple of Lincoln United players.

The second half is dire. I’m desperate for it to end. Jemmo rolls back the years with a 45 minute appearance at centre half; it’s cringe worthy.

The game is effectively over in the 52nd minute after a sixty second game of pinball in the Ilson box; Tom Marshall finally puts the ball in the back of the net.

The Pitmen shut up shop; Jemmo goes 4-3-3. Former tricky tree, Ross Gardner, is far more effective in the centre of the park and goes close on a couple of occasions but Ilson rarely trouble the home keeper.

Hednesford Town 2 Adam and Marshall Ilkeston Town 0

Attendance: 383

Man of the Match: Paul Robinson

Gedling MW 3 Atherstone Town 2

A pleasant night at Plumtree Cricket Club last night with Sticky junior picking up the Bowling Award for the u11s. “The Skipper’s” team returned to form this morning also, but once again I chose to stay away, I’m not ready to watch my team yet.

I saw a neighbour earlier today, whilst washing the car, and asked him how he was. He replied he was nervous at the prospect of watching England v Samoa. To be honest I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. It turned out that it’s the Rugby World Cup Finals, I was totally unaware, and personally I’d rather have a night out with Lee Bowyer than watch them egg chasers.

I’m off to Gedling today, not Town, but Miners’ Welfare; they are playing Atherstone Town, from Warwickshire in the FA Vase. The visitors play two rungs further up the non-league pyramid. It will be a good test for Gedling.

Atherstone has a population of 10,000 and lies close to the River Anker. The Coventry Canal, with its eleven locks is nearby. In years gone by it was famous for hat-making. They were previously known as Atherstone United, and once sold Andy Rammell to Manchester United for £40,000 back in 1989.

I pass the old entrance to Gedling Colliery. There’s a plaque outside with 1899-1991 on it. The mine produced some of the best coal this county has ever seen from its High Hazles Seam – Maggie got personal and closed it down.

I park in the Welfare car park (it’s now called Mapperley Social Club). It’s a mandatory £4 admission and a £1 for the programme, which once again is of a high standard and has won many awards.

The ground lacks atmosphere, it’s neat and tidy and on a slope, and is hidden away from the busy main road.

I take my pitch in between the two dugouts. The Adders have come in a posh coach and are sponsored by Aldi.

Gedling start the game well and youngster Ryan Johnson thumps a shot home from the edge of the area after Atherstone had failed to clear a corner.

Gedling are rampant, midfielder Matt Richards hits a pearler from distance to make it 2-0 after 7 minutes.

The Gedling management are an amusing duo and have a little chat with me now and again.

The Atherstone bench are livid with their team. They don’t have to wait long for a comeback with Reece ghosting in at the far post to nod home a Wells cross. It’s 2-2 after 12 minutes with Tomlinson the quickest to react to a loose ball.

Atherstone take hold of the game by the scuff of the neck. Gedling can’t get near them, their movement is the key. Dunkley is top drawer for Atherstone.



Sticky gets hit the face by a stray ball, at half-time: “no wonder you’re a sub” I shout at the guilty Adders’ player.

I meet a lovely old guy from Gedling who has painted the whole ground pre-season. And I also chat to a fellow Hopper who tips me a few grounds to go to.

Atherstone don’t enjoy playing with slope second half, and slowly but surely Gedling’s confidence begins to increase. A dreadful mistake by Adders’ Civzeis leaves Henson in the clear, his finish is clinical.

The Adders’ coaching staff are a miserable pairing they could moan for Warwickshire. Dollies are out the pram over where the spare ball should be kept. Atherstone coach Jimmy Ginnelly calls Gedling’s John Bartlett a “p***k.” The crowd roar with laughter.

They are poor losers and aren’t used to it. They’ve lost their sparkle and have begun to look predictable. Ryan Johnson, on the wing for Gedling is mustard. They use him as an outlet in the last 15 minutes and he’s unlucky not to add to his early strike. A few league clubs have been sniffing about, and I’m not surprised, he’s a raw talent.

The final whistle goes, the Gedling bench are euphoric; their team are good value in the second period. Lessons will have been learnt by the visitors.


Gedling MW 3 Johnson, Richards and Henson Atherstone 2 Reece and Tomlinson

Attendance: not many.

Man of the Match: Matt Richards

Nottingham Forest 2 Leicester City 3

I was sitting in bed on Monday night, reading When Saturday Comes, when Mrs P gave me the shock news: “Barry McGuigan has won Hell’s Kitchen” she shouts, “Did he say thank you very much Mr Eastwood?” I enquire.

Brooker has sloped of to Menorca for a week, so I’ve blagged his ticket, and arranged to meet up with Homebird in “B” Block.

The traffic is nose to tail down the A606; most of Leicester have clocked off early from knitting jumpers and making shoes and are heading for The City Ground.

A Traffic Cop sits in a lay-by at Wheatcrofts Roundabout; he’s probably playing on his PSP. In front of me is a car full of Foxes’ fans dressed in Burberry; it’s the old skool Baby Squad.

I park at Bridgford Library and walk down Hound Road and onto Radcliffe Road. It’s a sea of blue. There’s a real atmosphere in the air tonight. The fans all drink outside the numerous takeaway establishments. Proper fans would have been drinking Everards Tiger in the Stratford Haven. Plod lurk on every corner, waiting for the first sniff of trouble.

I plonk myself down in the Main Stand. A cover version of 'You Keep Me Hanging On' is on the tannoy. There’s only a 1000 or so lost souls in the ground. I have some good mates who follow Leicester. I’ve been on many an away trip with them. I particularly remember Friday night’s in Hull and Tranmere under the Brian Little regime and an unsavoury FA Cup tie at Oxford’s Manor Ground when Leicester fans invaded the pitch.

There are a dozen or son young lads sat in front of me, they’re all Under 16, but are well up for it. Of course, the tie is being replayed tonight because of the sudden illness to 27 year old Dubliner, Clive Clarke. There’s an extra bit of spice also, one of the club’s most unpopular managers in recent times, is back in town: Gary Megson.

The three things I remember about Gary Megson’s tenure at The Reds are as follows:
He was good at chewing gum, he bought all his suits from C&A and he fell out with Reds’ cult hero David Johnson. On the field he achieved nothing, the football was vile, he flooded the club with journeymen footballers, and he was a disaster.

You have to wonder how Nigel Doughty has survived in business because he wouldn’t know a good manager if he stared one in the face (Paul Hart excepted). "Old Big Ead" summed him up (Megson) in one sentence: “He couldn’t trap a wet bag of cement”.

Martin “Mad Dog” Allen has bought wisely, they won’t be lacking in fight and spirit. Gareth McAuley is their No.5 this evening; we used to call him “The Big G” at Sincil Bank. Keith Alexander paid £10,000 to Coleraine for his services; you’d get a million for him now. He went to Leicester on a Bosman, he is crucial at set pieces.

Forest rewarded their August Player of the Month, Sammy Clingan with a place on the bench on Saturday. Former Reserve Team Coach, Ian McParland, can relate to that, he won the Pontins Reserve League last season, there was no pat on the back for Charlie, just his P45.

Calderwood makes a bold move from kick-off, electing to play without a goalkeeper. Paul Smith waltzes through the Leicester midfield and defence unchallenged and finishes with aplomb, 1-0. Rumour has it that the Foxes had nominated. Scott Dobie to carry out the sporting act, knowing full well that the ball would have ended up in the River Trent.

The crowd are in shock, the guy next to me still thinks its 0-0 20 minutes later. Forest begin well, the pace of Tyson and Agogo unsettles the Leicester defence. On the half hour Kelvin Wilson once again fails to clear his lines, DJ Campbell, once of Yeading, pounces on the ball, but is upended on the edge of the box. The resulting free-kick is expertly bent round the wall by Irishman Alan Sheehan. 1-1.

Hungarian born Marton Fulop, on loan from Sunderland, is the busier of the two keepers.



Forest are different class second half and swarm all over the visitors, they take a deserved lead in the 65th minute, with Nathan Tyson timing his run perfectly to latch onto a Commons through ball and finish with style.

Forest are now pouring forward and Blocks A and B are in full song, sadly it is cheap jibes at Leicester’s multi-cultural society: “Rule Britannia” “England” and Small Town in Asia” leave a sour taste in the mouth. It’s so unnecessary, and ignorant, the game is played in an excellent spirit. The chants, once again, will go unreported, and be swept under the carpet.

Forest are running the clock down, and are close to empty, they will deserve this win. They balls up a short corner, and leave themselves short at the back. Leicester sweep forward down the right flank, sub Stearman bundles the ball home.

Forest are fragile, on the ropes, and the Foxes go for the jugular. They once again attack with pace down the right, with this time Stephen Clemence finishing from the edge of the box. Daylight robbery, smash and grab, call it what you want, but it can only happen at Forest right now.

Homebird is a diehard Red, but he’s in a state of shock, for once he’s lost for words. “We’ve outclassed them” is all he can mumble.


Forest 2 Smith and Tyson Leicester 3 Sheehan, Stearman and Clemence

Attendance: 15,519

Man of the Match: Luke Chambers