The goals have flown into the net at North Shields in the north-east of England. I'm as happy as Larry as we check-in at Motel One in the heart of Newcastle city centre. I peg it down to my favourite pub, Crown Posada, whilst Ms Moon 'powders her nose.' I quaff a couple of Tynemouth Blondes (real ale), whilst admiring the stain-glassed windows in the city's oldest pub. They have a vintage record player that has vinyl records and a stylus. Two Hearts Beat As One by U2 crackles through the pub speakers.
I've a raging thirst as Ms Moon and I hit the town - not bad eh, for a couple of golden oldies (speak for yourself Sticky). I've already had a comedy moment in the car park when I had to cough up for parking twice (£16) as I punched in my car registration plate at the pay station when we were, in fact, in the good lady's car.
One or two lads have been on the lash in the Toon since the Liverpool v Newcastle lunchtime kick-off. The result hasn't gone down too well with four beer-fuelled young 'uns, who are kicking the ever-loving crap out of one another. I step in to break the scuffle up, avoiding a couple of haymakers in doing so. We have a great night out regardless.
I catch up with the FA Vase results on Sunday evening and notice my local team, Gedling Miners' Welfare, have a replay up at Plains Road on Tuesday evening. I contact their Press Officer, Tony Hay, who is a good mate of mine, and offer to sponsor the game, which he happily accepts.
I don't have the usual chippy tea up Mapperley Tops on Tuesday evening, as I've had my fair share in recent weeks when I've been on the hoof. It's £5 on the gate, but the programmes have sold out by the time I arrive. Tony quickly rustles one up and invites me into hospitality at half-time. Gedling pay the price for a dreadful first-half display; bowing out to Step 7 Clay Cross Town (who were superb) 3-2. The cheese and ham sarnies weren't bad though.
Wednesday evening is spent up at another one of my favourite clubs, Heanor Town, on the Notts/Derbys border. It's great to see Tony Squires, a proper football bloke, return to the Club. Kimberley MW are tonight's visitors. They've pretty much lost their whole team from last season, as the players, like sheep, have followed their old manager to Dunkirk. I won't watch the Boatmen whilst he's in charge. Folk like him think it's fair game to up sticks and take all the players with him, with no thought about aftercare or a club's well-being.
I stand with Mr and Mrs John Harris. The game appears to be over as a contest after 45 minutes. The young Miners play with heart and soul in the second half. They are cajoled and encouraged by manager Graham Furnell. I look forward to monitoring their progress as they play the game the right way and in a good spirit.
The Forest v Barnsley game has been lined up for ages. I'm not that fussed if I'm honest, but an old cricketing friend, 'Heppers', has flown in from the Cayman Islands, as he's settling his lad into Nottingham Trent University. He's got the lads from back-in-the-day together for an all-dayer which includes the T20 Finals Day which we'll watch on the TV; it's too good an opportunity to miss.
Before all that is my third match of the week, out in the old coal-mining village of Cotgrave. I saw Keyworth United's Green Army turn them over good and proper in a 'Floody Friday' game last week. It doesn't help matters that high-flying Woodthorpe Park Rangers are in town this evening.
It's a cracking first half and 1-1 at the break. I fancy Woodthorpe to turn up the heat in the second half, and they duly oblige, scoring a further four goals without reply; three of them after being reduced to 10 men after a professional foul. The game is brilliantly refereed by Lewis Quayle, who allows the game to flow, although Cotgrave are aggrieved to have a 'stonewall' penalty turned down.
I get chatting to legendary groundhopper Peter Miles who has pitched up here from Southend. He's watched games in 49 countries and has visited over 2700 grounds. Tomorrow he's at Airdrie and Sunday at the Hearts and Hibs Edinburgh derby game. I ask him if he's watched any matches in Tenerife. He says he hasn't - it's a consolation goal for Sticky, as Peter is a proper hopper.
Ms Moon (Cinderella) rolls in after midnight after a night on the sauce with her pal Jill up at Mapperley. She stinks the place out with a Chinese takeaway, although I nick a few prawn crackers whilst she flicks the kettle on. I switch off the TV after watching another award-winning episode of New Tricks.
All the lads are getting stuck into a few 'sherbets' as Notts chase down Worcestershire's modest total of 147. It looks a formality, but Notts have previous for choking. The lads laugh at my pessimism. I remark that Ben Duckett isn't that clever upstairs. Following some Kamikaze running between the wickets, Duckett, whose claim to fame is being sent home from an England Lions tour in Australia, after pouring a pint of Fosters over Jimmy Anderson's head, in Perth, requires one run to send the Outlaws into the final. The lad looks a nervous wreck. I can barely look as the final ball is bowled. He takes a swipe and hits fresh air. Notts are out. My stomach churns and blood pressure rises. I ask the barman for a Cognac.
We troop up through Central Avenue in stony silence and disbelief in what we've just seen. At least the football will take my mind off it for 90 minutes. We're sat up in the gods in the Brian Clough Stand. A round of applause will take place in the fifteenth minute to remember 'Old Big 'Ead' who died 15 years ago.
Forest wiped the floor with D**y County a few weeks ago in the League Cup, or whatever it's called. I giggled and chuckled in the Main Stand 'B' Block as Forest outplayed and outsung the Sheep. 'Lampard start the bounce' was sung every time the Tricky Trees found the back of the Onion Bag. 'A' Block belted out their entire back catalogue. I bellyached my way home up London Road that night.
It might be a false dawn, but there were raised eyebrows last weekend that NFFC are serious promotion contenders after a 1-0 victory at Swansea City's Liberty Stadium. It's no coincidence that a couple of old school defenders in Joe Worrall and Michael Dawson are the regular doormen at The City Ground. I met Dawson once when he stopped at our hotel in Portugal with Hull City during a pre-season. What a great bloke he is and a superb role model for Worrall, who has returned full of confidence after a season-long loan under Steven Gerrard's tutelage at Rangers.
I might as well have had a nap in the first half as there's absolutely sweet diddly-squat to report. The football is safe, with no risk-taking as both opponents eye one another up. Heppers might have made a 10,000-mile round trip for a 0-0. My mood darkens with the news that my team Lincoln City are having a snooze and are 2-0 down to Oxford - 'Bagpuss', sat in front of me, teases me, as he supports them.
The second half is much improved. Barnsley start to shift the ball around and boss the midfield. They look the likelier team to open the scoring. Their fans start to believe and have begun to be heard above the moans and groans of some impatient home fans. Incredibly Forest take the lead following a swift, breathtaking counterattack down the right-hand side. Cash and 'Ain't Nobody Like Joe Lolley' exchange passes before Ben Watson sweeps home the cross.
Sabir Lamouchi injects some pace. Crowd favourite, 22-year-old Portuguese No.10, Joao Carvalho, is hooked. He's had little effect on the game. Some are saying around me that he's being eased back into the side after being kicked up in the air at Alfreton during a pre-season friendly (most people are). Maybe it's me, but I always seem to catch him on an off day. Five goals is a poor return for an outlay of £13,000,000.
It's all hands to the pump as Barnsley throw the kitchen sink at Forest. The Tykes play a beautiful game but can't break down the Forest defence. Worrall and Dawson are immense. Keep these two lads fit and you never know, they might sneak a play-off place.
The evening continues in the land of 'Fur Coats and no Knickers' I'm blowing a gasket having been told 'The Lincoln' have had a 0-6 shellacking. I sink some strong German wheat beer in Zinc bar, before partaking in the Gin Palace back at the Test Match. I watch through gritted teeth as Essex win the T20 final, off the last ball. The 'Lord Mayor' and 'Big Bear Baker' (Essex fans) are gloating. The chuffing taxi can't come quick enough.
Man of the Match: Joe Worrall and Heppers (not the Oxford fan)
Attendance: 29,202 (1,952)
No comments:
Post a Comment