Notts County 0-1 Grimsby Town

I exit Field Mill onto Quarry Lane as I head towards the A60. The mighty Imps have extended their unbeaten run to 16 games after a 2-0 victory over Mansfield Town. I can hear the Lincoln fans heralding their Ukrainian powerhouse central midfielder, 21 year old Ivan Varfolomeev. It is said that City paid (undisclosed fee) close to £300,000 for his services from Czech republic side FC Slovan Liberec.

I stand at the bus stop with a group of Mansfield Town fans waiting for the Pronto bus back to Nottingham. I keep my head down as I hand over £3 cash to the driver, who has a mentor on board. We're only 10 minutes into our journey when I hear a commotion downstairs. The mentor is on his walkie-talkie to Control to report that the driver's dashboard lights are on the blink. We stop at Larch Farm for what seems an eternity before being told to leave the bus and catch another one that's following behind. Add to the Mickey Mouse list Stagecoach and Blakey from On the Buses.

I finally alight the replacement bus outside a Grade II listed Heritage Pub called The Vale, in Woodthorpe. The main room is closed to pub goers for a private function. In another dimly lit room a small group of rugby fans are watching the fag end of the Six Nations game between Wales and Scotland. They burst into song at the final whistle. I gate a pint of Guinness as they sing the chorus to Flower of Scotland.

I treat Ms Moon to lunch on Sunday afternoon. I've booked a table for two at the highly-rated Alora on Mapperley Top. We've enjoyed the small-plate, around the world tapas dishes before, but have never had their much-talked about Sunday roast. The treacle-cured rump of beef, with all the trimmings, is to die for. Despite preferring quality over quantity, there's no room for a dessert.

We notice, as we wander back to the car, that Tamasha, an Asian fusion restaurant, has changed its name to Mood. It was recently all over social media. To steal a line from the 1970s sitcom, The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin, there was a 'cock up on the catering front', on of all days, Valentine's night. Star-crossed lovers were left outside in the cold and the rain because tables were overbooked or diners outstayed their welcome. It has changed its name, since that omnishambles, to Mood.

I'm grazing on a 3% Kernel craft ale table beer at Barrel Drop on Monday evening as I wait for Carlton Town's Jack of all trades, Alan Murphy, to rock up from a late shift at work. We're off to a gig at Rescue Rooms on Goldsmith Street, in Nottingham. Older readers will remember Mortimer's Cavern and Isabella's night spot on the same street from back in the day.

The headline act is a band called Sorry who hail from north London and who are not to be confused with the sitcom starring Timothy Lumsden, who was played by pint-sized comedian Ronnie Corbett. Sorry, the band, recently released a brilliant new single called Echoes. Give it a whirl folks, it's a beauty. They are ably supported by Hank, who are also from 'The Smoke.'

I'm back up Mapperley Top on Tuesday. There's time to kill before Gedling Miners Welfare take on Swallownest, from South Yorkshire, in the United Counties League. I have a burger at Old Flower Shop. I was hoping it was grill night as the gammon in there is on another level.

Poor old Gedling are on a terrible run of form. I'm still doing my customary lap of the ground when they fall behind after 30 seconds. It's a comedy of errors and sad to see them 5-1 down at the break. What do you say as a manager in the changing room after a horror show like that? The company is good though. Faggsy, Nigel Harlow and the Goulder brothers are in attendance.

On Thursday a blog legend returns to these pages. I have arranged to meet Mr Trumpy Bolton for a few scoops at the Stratford Haven in West Bridgford. He's doing his bit for the Treasury and hospitality industry by announcing his retirement. He's already planning trips to Devon (Exeter City) to watch his beloved Leicester City, should they be relegated from the Championship, as he expects they will be.

I grab a coffee and bacon and egg cob in town on Friday on my way to the railway station. I've cocked up myself today as I've double-booked. Sleaford Mods are showcasing their new album The Demise of Planet X at Rock City this evening. Foolishly, I arranged a Jolly Boys outing with the Keyworth lads in the East of England.

I jump on the Norwich bound train with Matt Limon and Coops before joining up with Chopper Harris and Ackers on a Greater Anglia choo choo bound for Stansted Airport. We alight at the market town of Bury St Edmunds where I've been a few times including watching their Non League team.

The town is well known for its Greene King Brewery and British Sugar. We visit a GK pub called The Nutshell, which is one of many boozers in the U.K. who claim to be the smallest. Matt Limon has mapped out a superb itinerary which are mostly Good Beer Guide entries. We return to the cathedral city of Ely to visit a few more. The pick of the bunch is Drayman's Son, a Three Blind Mice taphouse. We get stuck into a few crafts before the journey home with a can(s) in hand. 

On Saturday I meet the artist formerly known as 'The Keyworth Georgie Best', his partner Becky and more importantly my six week old granddaughter Romy, for brunch in the Trent Bridge Inn, in West Bridgford. Little 'un only stays awake for ten minutes, but manages a few smiles for Grandad. She melts my heart, each and every time I see her.

I've arranged for a pre-match drink with a mate I've known for over 50 years. Leggy is a great lad and is a legend not only at South Wolds School, but also at Keyworth Cricket Club where he has dedicated hours and hours of his time coaching and volunteering on the groundworks side of the club. Every Club needs a Leggy, what a smashing lad he is.

He claims to have not watched Notts County for over 25 years despite being a Pies fan. We enter the Derek Pavis Stand to the crashing drum beat of New Order's Blue Monday. The Magpies still have Palmer, Norburn and Jatta as notable absentees. Grimsby will need to win here to stay with the chasing pack for a play off spot.

The other week, at Sincil Bank, a little girl sat next to me colouring in her book for the entire first half. I wish I had that book as it would be far more entertaining than what these two sides dish up for 46 minutes. The Mariners put everyone behind the ball as they look to nick one on the break. They nearly do, twice, at the beginning of the second half, but Pies 'keeper Belshaw makes two smart saves.

The time-wasting, by the visitors, is cringeworthy. as Notts get on top. The goalie rolls around to break up play and more importantly, momentum. The Kop ain't happy and direct their venom at the Grimsby stopper. The game-changer is on 76 minutes. A weary Lee Ndlovu clumsily lunges in after losing control of the ball, with his studs showing up. The disappointment is, rather than the official taking timeout to consider what action to take, he instead immediately brandishes a red card from his back pocket. 'Fagin's' (Martin Patterson) gameplan is shattered into pieces. 

Moments later, having only being on the pitch for seconds. the Notts County 22 jacket leaves Mariners winger Charles Vernam in acres of space. He shrugs off a challenge before finding the corner of the net with a fine strike. The away following can't believe their luck. In fairness what they lack in ideas and quality they more than make up with effort and endeavour.

Grimsby see out approaching 100 minutes (time they wasted) with not too many scares. It's smash and grab and not particularly pleasing on the eye. County need those three absentees back sharpish or it's going to be another nailbiting play off scenario again.

Attendance: 12,487

Player of the Match: Leggy

Best Ale I've Supped This Week: A Tribe Called Quest, Arbor Ales, from Bristol

Best Song I've Heard on the Radio This Week: Kneecap, Liars Tale.

Mansfield Town 0-2 Lincoln City

I peg it from Sincil Bank, down Scorer Street, where former Arsenal, Nottingham Forest, Leeds Utd and Sheffield Wednesday striker, Lee Chapman, was born. How the Imps could have done with his finishing prowess today against jammy  Bolton Wanderers. 22 shots and yet only one goal to show for their craft and guile.

I engage in conversation on the journey home with some Trotters fans. They admit they got out of jail and are happy with a point. The train stops at Carlton. I slog it up the hill after three days away from HQ. There's no warm welcome from Ms Moon on my arrival back at Chez Palms. She's proper got the face on as the Six Nations Rugby Union thingy has killed her Saturday night TV entertainment schedule. Scotland v England or Michael McIntyre - if only there was a third option. 

We have a lazy Sunday. I order three cook books from World of Books - there's going to be plenty of stir frys, pasta dishes and slow cooker meals once they drop through the letterbox and onto the doormat. I had a productive Saturday evening. I acted quickly in securing a ticket for the Mansfield v Lincoln game at Field Mill. With the Stags causing a Cup upset at Turf Moor, the match is bound to be a sell out. I'll be sat on my hands in the home end.

I'm still hard at it trying to complete the 92 Football League grounds and revisit clubs who have new stadia or hold a special place in English football heritage and culture. My mate, Dean, is Head of EFL Research for the computer game Football Manager. He's aware I've not been to the 'new' Doncaster Rovers ground.

I jump in an Uber after shutting up shop at the best newsagent in Arnold. The taxi ride takes me on a trip down memory lane. The journey is through the village of Calverton where I spent many happy years 'working' at the coal mine. It's where I met my mate Chippy Fryer, who is now my boss at the paper shop. We used to play golf every week at Springwater Golf Club. Ironically, it's across the road from the  Chinese restaurant, which has a large water feature in the car park. It's where the driver drops me off. Dean is travelling from the village of Lowdham where Notts County's all-time great, centre forward, Tommy Lawton, once ran a pub that's still standing, called the Magna Charta.

We're parked up at the ground an hour before kick off. We enjoy a pie and a drink whilst we catch up on the team news. There's some nice artwork with a nod to the past of some of the legends that have played for Donny Rovers. Charlie Williams made 151 appearances for the club and was one of the first black players to play professional football after the Second World War. He later became famous when he became a comic on the ITV show, The Comedians - his catchphrase was "me old flower." He used to respond to racist hecklers by shouting out: "shut up or I'll buy a house next door to you." How sad is that?

Former Rovers goalkeeper, Harry Gregg, is also remembered. He played for the club 94 times in the 1950s. He joined the 'Busby Babes' at Manchester United in 1957, for what was a world record fee for a goalkeeper at that time. He became one of the heroes of the Munich Air Disaster, helping save the lives of some of his colleagues, including Bobby Charlton, by dragging them out of the burning wreckage.

We're sat in the Press box and to be honest there's not much to report on apart from a successfully converted penalty by Lee Molyneux. Huddersfield Town are disappointing. They have little threat in front of goal, with the irony being that they have farmed out striker Joe Taylor to Wigan on loan, who is scoring goals for fun. Thanks by the way Dean, it's another ground ticked off.

I've just the one midweek day off work this week. I make good use of it by cleaning the house from top to bottom and preparing a slow cooker dinner which is braised beef with soy and mushrooms. Cooking did involve a walk down to the worst supermarket in Western Europe (Carlton Tesco). But I'm pleased to report that the visit passed without any incidents, apart from an old lady's bank card not working at the tills. 

There's always time for a scoop or two on a day off. I slope off to Junkyard, a laid-back craft ale house, located down an alley off Weekday Cross. I enjoy a couple of quality crafts from Beak in Berkshire and Garage from Barcelona. A third of a pint of Centaur Army from Neon Raptor hits the spot and sees me off for the evening.

It's Saturday morning and we both enjoy a few extra hours in bed. The rain has cleared and the sun is shining as I place my football bet. I continue to read the Les Dawson autobiography called A Clown Too Many, that Mark E Smith from The Fall recommended. Dawson tells a good yarn and writes beautifully. It's an incredibly sad tale of his early life living in the slums of Collyhurst, in Manchester, to a succession of failed jobs at the Co-op and Hoover, where he sold vacuums to customers in Moss Side. It's a riveting read and well worth £3, the price of a bus ride.

Ms Moon very kindly drops me off on the A60. I nearly nodded off listening to Radio 2 DJ Emma Willis. The BBC play it safe these days by hiring bland presenters with non personas. I do have a pub to tick off in the town called The Pavilion, which is a long walk away and not open until 2 pm. I want to watch this game with a clear head. I walk up Quarry Lane and go through the turnstile of the Ian Greaves Upper Stand. It's only 1.45pm.

It gives the Mansfield Town DJ the opportunity to spin a few of his favourite tunes and he doesn't disappoint. We're treated to Mia by Wunderhorse and Shawshank by The Royston Club - it's like being at Carlton Town.

'The Lincoln' arrive on the back of a 15 match unbeaten run. They are brimming with confidence, but are without Freddie Draper, who was exceptional last week. The pitch is a quagmire. Arteta's Arsenal aren't going to enjoy it here, in the FA Cup, in a few weeks time. Both teams struggle to control the ball and stay on their feet. 

Lincoln control the game in the first half. Their 21 year old Ukrainian midfielder Ivan Varfarlomeev is pulling all the strings in the middle of the park. The Imps get the goal they deserve shortly before the break from the penalty spot after Jack 'Magic Man' Moylan is brought down. Street makes no mistake. At least it means the gobby youth sat in front of me pipes down after moaning about Lincoln's foul play and direct tactics for 45 minutes.

Nigel Clough gets stuck into his troops at the break and makes a couple of changes. It seems to work as the Stags up their game. They are unlucky to see two penalty appeals waved away by the official. A couple of shots whistle over the bar or go wide of the upright. 

Lincoln look lethargic. The two substitutes, Jefferies and Bayliss, combine to put the game to bed. 2-0 flatters them but it won't bother the noisy 2000 fans behind the goal who have backed their team all day. I stand on my own at the end to watch the coaching staff, players and fans celebrate as one. I've been sat on my hands for over 95 minutes.

Attendance: 9,773

Player of the Match: Sonny Bradley

Best Record I Heard on the Radio This Week: New Leaf, The Reds, Pinks and Purples

Best Real Ale I've Supped This Week: Centaur Army, Pastry Stout from Neon Raptor

Lincoln City 1-1 Bolton Wanderers

The Wigan fans were factually incorrect when they sang "you're getting sacked in the morning" at their crestfallen manager, Ryan Lowe, who was standing only yards away from the Latics following, at Peterborough United's London Road ground. He was in fact sacked in the evening, just hours after the 6-1 shellacking. Wigan supporters drown their sorrows on the 5.30 pm Norwich to Liverpool train. I bump into a Blackburn Rovers fan on his way back from a lunchtime kick off at Carrow Road. He bravely displays gallows humour at a club that has been in freefall for a number of years now.

I was excited for some Tuesday night action at either Carlton Town v Anstey Town or Gedling Miners' Welfare versus Big Glenn's Radford FC. A deluge of rain puts paid to that. I scan the screen listings at Broadway Cinema, where I clock a 5.45pm showing of Saipan. That'll do for me.

The film is about the epic spat and long-running feud between Ireland manager Mick McCarthy and skipper Roy Keane. It all comes to a head in the Western Pacific island of Saipan, prior to the 2002 FIFA World Cup. The film, which includes a masterclass in acting from Steve Coogan and Eanna Hardwicke, does not shed McCarthy nor Keane in a particularly good light.

The final set-to, during a team meeting, is a gripping watch. Keane is asked to pack his bags after a number of tantrums. It's the first time during the film that there has been a show of strength from Big Mick. He comes across as weak and anxious. He won't be happy to have been portrayed that way. All I remember from that time ago was Keane being chased by a pack of Press reporters and photographers whilst walking his Labrador dog, Trigger, close to his home in Cheshire.

I'm back in town on Wednesday, with my backpack on, as I'm on a three day roadtrip. Ms Moon is working down in Brighton, so I'm making hay whilst the sun shines. Actually it's raining again as I push open the door of Slice 'n Brew. Only outside tables are available. Sod that for a game of soldiers. I get lucky at Rudy's where I grab a bar table and a salami pizza with a hot honey dip.

I jump on the 6.45 train to Grantham after a last minute platform change. East Midlands Train staff are utter buffoons - how the chuff didn't I manage to land a job there? I suppose only having one eye might have been a hindrance. I arrive in York bang on time thanks to LNER. The rest of the evening is spent at the Lord Collingwood pub, in Upper Poppleton, where my brother and sister-in-law win the quiz.

One of my hobbies is to visit Good Pub Guide entries. The inclement weather curtails any chance of a walk to a nearby National Trust property. My brother, Mark, and I, head in the car towards the West Yorkshire village of Otley, where former England rugby union player, Mike Tindall, was born. He is married to Zara Phillips, daughter of Anne, Princess Royal.

Otley is a thriving market town that lies on the River Wharfe. It is said to have the greatest number of pubs per head of population. Three will do today for Our Mark and Sticky. The Black Horse Hotel is the pick of the bunch. It has a Victorian interior and a wooden floor. I enjoy a pint of Porter accompanied by a steak and kidney pie that's soaked in gravy. 

I'm up and away, the following day, after a hearty breakfast that's rustled up expertly by Our Kid. I change trains at Leeds and jump on a Northern towards the town of Skipton. I alight at Bingley where I'm met with drizzle and snow that has settled up in the hills. I mentioned to my niece's fella last night that I was visiting Bingley as in the Bradford and Bingley Building Society - he said he'd never heard of them. They became part of the Santander Group in 2008. I tick off three boozers before heading down to Saltaire.

Saltaire is a UNESCO-listed Victorian industrial village. If you love your history it's well worth a visit. It was founded by the industrialist Sir Titus Salt, who built housing for his mill workers. The English painter, David Hockney, exhibits many of his paintings at a gallery in Salts Mill.

I enjoy a few drinks, including a visit to SALT Beer factory, before wandering down to Shipley where I chance upon the pub of the day The Beehive. After a period of closure it reopened in 2023. It's a proper local with a vast range of cask ales available.

I finish the night up in Doncaster, as I wanted to stay somewhere cheap and cheerful on my way to Lincoln, where hotel prices are sky high for a Friday night stay. I check-in at a Premier Inn before making the short walk to Doncaster Brewery Tap House. The room is welcoming and warm. I down a 5.3% pale ale that is a collaboration with a USA brewery. I'm tucked up in bed by 9 pm.

The unlimited breakfast ain't the best folks, but the staff are so attentive and courteous. I change trains at Retford having spoken briefly to a groundhopper from Grimsby who was on his way down south to watch Romford FC versus Great Wakering Rovers in the Essex Senior League.

I chat to an Imps fan from Newcastle on the train station platform. He says he is enjoying the ride and not nervous about today's game. I mention that I've watched Bolton quite a few times in recent seasons, and that they have been poor on each occasion.

I can confirm that Steep Hill is still a bastard to walk up. I'm sweating cobs by the time I reach the summit - well actually it's the newly opened Organ Grinder, a Blue Monkey taphouse that has taken over the former premises of BeerHeadZ on Eastgate. I quaff a pint of Chocolate Orange stout. On my way back down the hill I smirk at kids having tantrums and folk gasping for air as they ascend towards Lincoln Cathedral, that's shining like a beacon in the early afternoon sunshine.

I grab a baseball cap at the superstore. I'm plonked in my seat above the tunnel an hour before kick off. The best track the DJ plays is Turn the Page by The Streets. The Red Imps are on a long unbeaten run. They were bloody awful the last time I saw them at Rotherham United's New York City Stadium. They were missing a few that day and are at full strength today.

The game is a sell out and the atmosphere is electric. Lincoln come out of the traps the quickest. Jack 'Magic Man' Moylan megs a defender, who he then runs around on the inside of, before unleashing a ferocious shot that crashes off the woodwork. Moments later he goes close again. Bolton are rapid on the break. Moylan opens the scoring after a breathtaking move, he nonchalantly guides his first time shot home. Bolton are on the ropes but somehow hang in there. Freddie Draper is strong as an ox and putting a solid shift in, Bolton can't cope with him. Their coach Steven Schumacher spends most of the first half bleating in the ear of the fourth official. To be fair the referee has dished out a few soft yellow cards.

The second half follows a similar pattern. Lincoln are first to every ball and physical in the challenge. It's only when they sub off three exhausted players that we see a change in the pattern of play. Former Imp Ethan Erhahon has a wand of a left peg. He curls in a cross with pace, Sam Dalby does the rest. 22 shots, with 10 on target, count for nothing. Bolton have got out of jail. Their large following will breathe a huge sigh of relief that they have nicked a point.

Attendance: 10,235

Player of the Match: Jack Moylan

Best Song Heard on the Radio This Week: Arlo Parks, 2SIDED

Best Real Ale Supped: Black Forest Gateaux, Sunbeam, from Leeds, in The Beehive, Shipley

Peterborough United 6-1 Wigan Athletic

I'm enjoying my football-free weekend. Ms Moon and I exit Broadway Cinema, in Hockley, Nottingham on Saturday teatime. We've just watched the Oscar nominated Hamnet, whose production team includes Steven Spielberg and Sam Mendes, who was born in Reading, if you're asking. We're baffled and bamboozled by the 'modern English language' that's used in the final 15 minutes of the film, when Shakespeare's play Hamlet is re-enacted.

We part company at the bus stop outside the Fox and Grapes, at the very spot where the body of pub landlord, George Wilson, was discovered in 1963. Named as the 'Pretty Windows Murder' the case still remains unsolved. 

I slope off over the road to the King Billy. I nurse a pint of Snake Eyes from the Black Iris Brewery. The rugby is on the TV set. Nobody seems particularly interested; I'm certainly not. My phone has been switched off whilst I was at the cinema. I boot it up to check on the final scores. Lincoln City and Notts County are both victorious again. Tony Mac is up at Fleetwood; he'll be loving that.

I'm back down Meadow Lane again on a wet and freezing cold Tuesday evening. I've five layers of clothing on, including some thermals. Gareth Ainsworth's Gillingham are in town. County are on a hot winning streak. I check the team news on my phone. I'm gutted to read that both Jodi Jones and Alassana Jatta are notable absentees. It will be a battle without them as 'Wild Thing's' teams are always physical and uncompromising. 'Over and Over' by Hot Chip is the pick of the bunch of a decent pre-match DJ set.

The Pies are well backed by a vocal Kop End. They are soon on top and take the lead through their fiery Scottish midfielder Scott Robertson, following some pitiful defending by the Gills. Ainsworth, dressed in a bomber jacket, tight jeans and some brown boots is straight down the tunnel at half time, to give his troops the hairdryer after a lacklustre first half.

I sit with former player, Tim Wilkes, in the second half. He made a handful of appearances for the Magpies during the Sam Allardyce era before suffering from serious injuries. Debutant, Lee Ndlovu, fluffs his lines to put the game to bed for the Pies. There's an extraordinary grand finale when 'keeper James Belshaw is called upon on three occasions to keep the Gills attack at bay, with a series of spectacular point blank saves.

It's Thursday morning and I'm back on my old patch in the village of Keyworth. I'm 62 years old today and the best birthday present I've ever received arrived a few weeks ago. Her name is Romy Palmer. She's my granddaughter and melts my heart. I have a cuddle for 90 minutes before she falls asleep in my arms.

I alight the bus, on the journey home, at Musters Road junction in West Bridgford. I wander down to Trent Bridge Cricket Ground. I think of times back in the 1980s when I used to go to a nightclub called Harvey's Bar, that was located on this very road. I used to stalk the DJ with requests for The Smiths or Echo and the Bunnymen, when all the Herbert was interested in playing was Wham or Five Star. 

I sit with Faggsy at the Notts Cricket Lovers' Society meeting. The first speaker is Kirstie Gordon, who is the captain of The Blaze and a Scottish international. The second half of the meeting is a question and answer session with Director of Cricket, Mick Newell, and opening batter Ben Slater. I always find Newell witty and engaging, even if I don't agree with everything he says, or decisions he makes. We finish up the evening on Carlton Hill top with Ms Moon and her brother for some more birthday scoops. It's a Vegas mini kebab for supper.

To celebrate both our February birthdays I've booked a table at The Ivy on Bridlesmith Gate in town. They've got an offer on, so why not? Whilst Ms Moon is still at work I enjoy some real ales with Tony Mac up in the Canning Circus area of town, at: Organ Grinder, a newly painted Sir John Borlase Warren and a rejuvenated Hand and Heart on Derby Road.

I'm pleasantly surprised at how good The Ivy is. The building was formerly Hugo Boss and before that Cafe Rouge. It's tastefully renovated and has a lovely ambience too. The food is delicious and served with a smile. Two blokes, sat nearby with their partners, are glued to their phones watching Leeds United v Forest. I don't know who is more irked and annoyed by this: Sticky Palms or Sean Dyche. As we walk through the rain soaked streets towards the bus stop, I hear Isolation, by Joy Division, blasting out of a cocktail bar called Neon, on Weekday Cross. Ms Moon tells me to calm down as I get overexcited to hear such a great random track.

It's rained cats 'n dogs all week in Nottingham and it's proper got me down folks. What's even more annoying is seeing ITV News 'weatherman' Alex Beresford smirking in the studio or sheltering in some posh garden centre in Surrey. As soon as the sun's out this nincompoop is strutting his stuff whilst posing on Brighton Pier or the Eden Project. A whiff of rain or a gust of wind and you'll find the charlatan under cover. 

I made a call yesterday on which game to go to. It's highly unlikely that the Carlton v Belper game will go ahead (I was wrong). I've enjoyed visiting the old school Football League grounds again. I message a close friend called Ackers, who lives in Whittlesey, near Peterborough, to see if he fancies Posh v Wigan. I catch a late morning train to Norwich that stops in Peterborough in just over an hour. Ackers and I embrace at the station. We have both suffered with our eyesight in recent years. It's the blind leading the blind as we walk up to the ground to buy some tickets.

With time to spare we wander up to Old Fletton where we tick off Wonky Donkey, a  local CAMRA City Pub of the year in 2025. We're perched up in the Upper Meerkat Stand half an hour before kick off. Some Wigan fans I met on the train predicted that the Latics, managed by under fire Ryan Lowe, would be 2-0 down within ten minutes. It was actually nine minutes with a brace of gift wrapped goals coming from Kyrell Lisbie (son of former Charlton striker, Kevin). 

Luke Williams' Posh threaten to run riot, but remarkably a slip in defence sees a cross tucked into the corner of the net by the hard-working Joe Taylor, who I rate highly. It's Posh that are now under the cosh, but again when your luck is down things can go wrong. Chelsea loanee, J J Morgan, races onto a ball over the top, he lifts it over the 'keeper only to see it bounce off the bar. He wins a race to the ball to head home the rebound. The visiting fans direct their venom towards Lowe, who hangs his head in shame, as they sing "you're getting sacked in the morning." (it will probably be this evening).

Wigan enjoy a lot of possession early in the second half. But fall apart by conceding three more goals in the final 20 minutes. I don't think Lowe will even bother to catch the team bus home.

Attendance: 8,443

Player of the Match: Kyrell Lisbie

Best Record Heard on the Radio This Week: SAULT, Good Things Will Come After the Pressure

Favourite Real Ale Supped This Week: Marble Beers, Up All Night, at The Embankment

Notts County 2-1 Swindon Town

I exit Bramall Lane with seconds remaining. The Blades are head and shoulders above anything Ipswich Town have to offer. They've hassled, harried and tackled all over the pitch. It's only on my walk back to Sheffield railway station that it dawns on me that my train is to Norwich and that it will call at Peterborough and Ely.

It's standing room only on the EMR 17.40 to Nottingham and yes, it's full of whinging, bleating Tractor Boys (what about the girls?) fans. The manager has lost the plot according to them. They have too many round pegs in square holes, with injuries to key players too. It's a relief to alight in Nottingham 50 minutes later.

Ms Moon and I breakfast up at the Old Flower Shop on Mapperley Top, late on Sunday morning. They do a decent fry up that will hopefully set me up for the day. I'm going to need it, as I'm out in the afternoon and into early evening. Tony Mac and I have made a late call to attend Beat the Streets, a music festival that brings Nottingham music fans together to raise funds for the homeless. Over £500,000 has been raised in the last seven years.

I collect my wristband just shy of 2 pm at East Midlands premium music venue, Rock City. We stand with Casually Dan, his wife Katy and Daz, a Notts County and Carlton Town fan, who also sings in an Oasis tribute band. There's a great underground scene in Nottingham right now. The band who impresses me the most are called The Rossettis, who play at Rock City Beta. They remind me of early Babyshambles. 

Bloodworm play the main stage at Rock City. They've really pushed on since I first saw them a couple of years ago. Chris Hawkins has been plugging their new single on his early breakfast show on 6Music and they have also been supporting Suede on their recent tour. The final band we watch are high energy rock outfit Marvin's Revenge, who play a superb set to a large and appreciative crowd. They list Sonic Youth and early Pixies as some of their early influences. Ms Moon is watching Celebrity SAS when I arrive back at HQ. I ask if that big baby Graeme Swann has left the building yet. She says he has. He has form for clocking off early.

I've been invited down to Meadow Lane by a former MSR Newsagents delivery driver called Barry, who I get along well with. I meet him outside the Meadow Lane Sports Bar where he has just had a pint and some tea. Barry's an interesting character who has a fantastic CV. He's been a pub landlord at three different hostelries in inner city Nottingham, as well as running a chip shop on Haydn Road. He was also a lorry driver for many years.

The game tonight has the makings of a classic. Notts have picked up six points from their last two fixtures, whilst the Robins have lost their last three games including an FA Cup defeat to in-form Salford. Swindon are excellent for the first 20 minutes. They fashion a chance when a header flashes wide of the County post after a cross is whipped in from the left.

The Pies begin to get on top. Jodi Jones is skinning his full back alive. He sees a shot thunder off the underside of the bar and onto the opposite post. It's hit with such venom that it forces the net to shake. Jatta has a header acrobatically saved by the 'keeper. Swindon take the lead against the run of play in sensational style, with a vicious volley from the edge of the box by Ollie Clarke finding the back of the net. County respond immediately through Jatta.

Matthew Dennis wins the game for Notts after only being on the pitch for 15 seconds. But it takes a brilliant save from James Belshaw to thwart a Swindon attacker in the dying embers of the game, to ensure victory. Ian Hollway gives a great post match interview where he compliments both the Club and Pies fans. He is generous in defeat, but they were well beaten in the second half.

I bought a £10 return train ticket to Birmingham at Christmas in the Rail Sale. There's nothing much doing on Thursday so that's the day to visit Brum. I swing by my Italian cafe for a coffee and a bacon roll. It's full of Ferencvaros fans who are here for the Europa League fixture at The City Ground this evening.

Once I reach New Street I jump on a train to Kidderminster. Time isn't on my side as it's an advanced ticket that has to be used by 4pm, so I'm pretty annoyed that my West Midlands train has a fault on it. I alight at Cradley Heath and walk up a steep incline towards Brierley Hill.

Victoria Cross recipient, Anthony Clarke Booth, is laid to rest in the local churchyard. His VC was awarded during the Zulu War. He was born in Carrington, in Nottingham, where one of my favourite haunts, The Gladstone is located.

The purpose of the visit is to tick off my 310th two star or three star CAMRA Heritage pub. After a long slog up the hill I come across the Vine Inn, a Batham's brewery tap. I squeeze into a traditional front bar room that has an air of vibrancy and order up a pint of mild.

There is a staggering choice of rolls, cobs and pies to choose from, but I'm still full from breakfast. A pub regular sporting a The Stranglers baseball cap, boasts that he's seen the band 17 times in the last 12 months. I have a shufty about the place. There are plenty of other rooms for folk to sit in. There's time for a quick pint up the road at The Bell Inn before returning to New Street. I have a swift craft ale at Cherry Reds, an independent cafe bar, a stone's throw away from the station

I promised Ms Moon a football free weekend, as we didn't have much of a Christmas, due to the good lady being laid up with a slipped disc, which left her in severe pain and a lot of distress. We do pop down Carlton Town Football Club on Friday evening to support Casually Dan and Unders in their community coming together called 'The Shed End Presents', which includes a live band and folk playing their favourite vinyl. I sup a couple of pints of Liquid Light's delicious Starburster as we watch the excellent Alex and The Christopher Hale Band. We both don't recognise some of the vinyl people are spinning, but that's what it's all about, introducing new music and old bands to one and all.

On Saturday morning I enviously look on social media at Millers fans on their travels to watch Carlton play away at Wellingborough Town's Dog and Duck ground. Ms Moon and I jump on the 27 bus into town. We enjoy lunch at Delilah's, an indie deli on Victoria Street. Sue enjoys wild garlic mushrooms on toasted sour dough bread with a fried egg sat on the top.

Due to Hamnet having received 8x Oscar nominations, it has returned to the screens at Broadway Cinema. When I booked tickets there was a spare seat next to me. Thirty seconds before screening a bearded man with wild hair inches his way down the row, annoying cinemagoers. He has two backpacks that would see him to the summit of Mount Everest and back down again, In one of his plastic shopping bags is the board game Buckaroo. I remark to Ms Moon that he better not set it up as it will make one hell of a racket. He noisily gnaws his way through a packet of pumpkin seeds, instead, much to my chagrin.

The film has a two hour running time and is excellent. We're both a wee bit confused with the ending, but hey, it's Shakespeare innit. Irish actress, Jessie Buckley, will definitely be in the running for best actress. Ms Moon can't 'arf pick 'em.

Attendance: 8,931

Player of the Match: Ollie Norburn

Best Song Heard on the Radio: Bloodlust, by Bloodworm (Bauhaus/Cure esque)

Real Ale of the Week: Two by Two, New England Pale, from Newcastle

Sheffield United 3-1 Ipswich Town

I've not had a chippy tea in ages. The stars align on Tuesday evening, as time isn't on my side. After a full shift in the media world (paper shop) - and let me tell you it's a grueller with all those bloody soap magazines being published - I dive into Oceans chippy at the bottom of Carlton Hill. The grumpy owner is perched on a stool watching the fag end of Deal or No Deal. His lad is pleasant enough though. He throws me a fresh haddock into a fryer that's bubbling and sizzling with piping hot oil. I wolf it down ten minutes later, accompanied with a small tray of chips and some Chinese curry sauce.

Runaway NPL Midlands League leaders, Carlton Town, are hosting Long Eaton United tonight. I peg it down to the game with Faggsy. I thought it best to get there 15 minutes early as they'll be a queue snaking from the turnstiles - and I wasn't wrong. DJ Dan is playing New Order's first ever single, Ceremony. It was originally going to be a Joy Division release, but was hastily re-recorded following the sudden death of lead singer Ian Curtis. I recommend watching the Anton Corbijn film, Control, that documents Curtis' struggles with depression and severe epilepsy. A lot of scenes are shot in Lenton and Sneinton. The film stars Nottingham born actress Samantha Morton, who plays the part of Deborah Curtis. The script is taken from the superb book Curtis wrote, called Touching From a Distance.

I have a brief chat with some Notts County Cricket Club members before wandering over to the far side of the ground. The Millers have had a couple of feisty games with 'The Blues' this season, with both results ending in a draw over 90 minutes. There's also been some beef with their 'keeper, Lewis King, who looks like a man who could fall out with someone in an empty room. King's name crops up on the 'Group Chat' a lot. Some of the comments are negative and churlish. I hope the Carlton fans rely on their quick wit and good humour when the visiting stopper defends his goal this evening. It would be a shame to tarnish the good reputation the Millers have as a friendly and welcoming club.

From the off Carlton are magnificent. They should be 3-0 up before they finally take the lead through a sublime finish from former York City striker Ash Chambers. The game has been on simmer but the referee has kept the lid on it. Long Eaton are trying their best to get midfield influencer Nat Watson sent off, but Mr Moreton sensibly calls over skipper Dan Brown to defuse the situation.

Our man King, in the nets, looks like he's about to blow a gasket when two goals are scored in quick succession in the second half. In fairness to him he has a safe pair of hands and a kick like a mule. His distribution is also excellent over the two games I have watched him play. Fags and I dissect the game and sink a couple of pints of Harvest Pale ale back at the Old Volunteer, in Carlton Square. It's recently been taken over by Star Pubs - so it's a wave goodbye to beers from Magpie and Bang the Elephant. 

My weekend starts on Wednesday evening. I enjoy a couple of drinks in the Partizan Tavern, on Manvers Street, in Sneinton. Tony, the landlord, keeps a lovely pint and is a massive Notts County fan too. I rustle up some supper on arrival back at HQ. I've quite a collection of easy cook books now from the likes of Nathan Antony, Jon Watts and Alex Hughes. As long as no skill is required, then I'm your man  .. lol.

Thursday is a special day. I catch the Keyworth Connection to go and meet my one week old granddaughter, Romy, for the first time. I can't describe the feeling when I hold her in my arms. My heart beats ten to the dozen and my spine tingles when she grips my fingers. She's soon fast asleep after I've bored her to death. A few bedtime blogs in the future will soon see her hit the sack and zonk out.

I recently purchased the 2026 issue of the Good Beer Guide, so there's a few new entries in the East Midlands I need to mop up. Three pubs in Leicester are on the agenda. It's drizzling with rain as I wander out of Leicester station and onto Granby Road. I pass the market where Gary Lineker used to help his dad sell fruit and veg. A Wetherspoons called Corn Exchange is the first tick off. It's also one of the few 'Spoons where you aren't required to book an UBER to the toilets.

The next pub is close to Leicester Castle and was formally two cottages knocked into one. A couple of Yuppies take advantage of the free wi-fi as they tap away on their laptops - they call this 'working from home.' They slowly nurse their cappuccinos as I down a Titanic Plum Porter, poured by a jolly licensee, before heading out into the wind and rain again.

The Clarendon is my final destination in this gem of a city. Google maps takes me through Nelson Mandela Park and a very impressive Victoria Park, where there are a number of memorials to soldiers lost in battle over the last 150 years. The park was previously a racecourse but now has 69 acres of open space.

A golden coloured Spaniel dog runs up to me for some fuss. Its owner shouts out my name. What a coincidence, it turns out it's Rachel a former colleague of mine at Ideagen PLC, who are headquartered in Ruddington, in Notts. 'The Clarry' is in the Clarendon Park area of the city. It has a hipster feel about the place. The beer choice isn't all that. 

I make the long slog back to the railway station after an enjoyable three hours spent in this multi-cultural city. Ms Moon is still at work so I have a quick pint of Headless from the Red Willow stable in the King Billy in Sneinton. Before I head home I swing by Neon Raptor taproom to grab a couple of rocket fuel craft ale cans for the second half of the weekend.

Supper is homemade doner kebab meat made by my own fair hands. It's accompanied, unfortunately, by the final episode of The Traitors. Almost 10 million viewers have tuned in. I'm not allowed to talk whilst the programme is on - I don't know why, we're hardly going to miss 'owt. I finish off my book which has stories about how the Anti Facist Action group kicked the living daylights out of the British National Party (Reform in new money) all over Lancashire and London in the 80s and 90s - it's far more entertaining. 

I've been given permission to speak on Saturday morning by Ms Moon. I haven't got long though, as there is another train to catch. I announce that it is going to be a football free weekend next Saturday. On Friday night we'll support DJ Dan down at the club for 'The Shed End Presents' where a live band will play and folk will spin some of their favourite vinyl. On Saturday we'll have lunch in town and go to Broadway Cinema to watch a film. There will still be a blog as I'm at Notts County v Swindon Town on Tuesday evening .. lol.

I'm sat in a bustling and hustling Sheffield Tap by 12,30 p.m. It's stacked out with groups and couples pre-drinking before catching a train for a day out in Leeds or Manchester. I'm sat in the St John's Street Family Stand an hour before kick off. Rihanna's 'Please Don't Stop the Music' (please do mate) is blasting out of the Bramall Lane p.a. system. 

The last time I was here Mark Kennedy's Lincoln City won a penalty shootout. I got so overexcited I left my rucksack under my seat in the Tony Currie Stand. It gave me an excuse to return and visit a few new pubs.

A pumped up Chris Wilder gave a spiky press conference yesterday after a dip in form and three losses in a row, one of which was an FA Cup defeat to Nigel Clough's Mansfield Town. They could easily be 2-0 down in the early moments of this game but the Tractor Boys fluff their lines. The Blades twice come close themselves, before taking the lead, ironically following an Ipswich corner. O'Hare pounces onto a ball, holds off a few opponents before lifting the ball over an advancing 'keeper, whose boot leaves a wound to the attacker's head. Minutes later it's 2-0 after a series of shots rain in on the visitor's goal.

It's been a breathtaking first half with more to come. Ipswich look shellshocked. Their passing is sloppy and they are caught in possession too often. They are thrown a lifeline when their best player Jack Clarke scores from a spot kick. Patrick Bamford lashes a left foot shot home to put the game to bed. He's later sent off for a dive, having rounded the 'keeper. I can't 'arf pick em.

Attendance: 28,638

Man of the Match: Callum O'Hare

Best Ale I've Supped This Week: Eclipse, Flying Gang Brewery, Newcastle

Best Record Heard on the Radio: Alabaster, by All Those Witches