Nottingham's hostelries are second to none; particularly the real ale ones. The city is steeped in a history of brewing beer. Shipstone's, Home Ales and Hardy and Hanson used to rule the roost, back in the day. I'm sat in a window seat of one of my favourite pubs, Lillie Langtry's, named after a British-American socialite (a bit like Gemma Collins off TOWIE). I people-watch the hustle and bustle of folk going about their business on Upper Parliament Street, as a string of Motown and Northern Soul tracks are played on the iPod shuffle.
Just down the road, a Joe Lolley inswinging corner away, is The Playwright pub. In 1865 it was known as the Clinton Arms. Back then, a group of Shinty players met at that pub, on Shakespeare Street, and Nottingham Forest was formed. A Blue Plaque is above the pub doorway.
I sink a couple of 'Dizzy Blondes' before jumping on the 27 NCT bus to Carlton. The rest of the evening is spent writing up our visit to the West Midlands yesterday. The blog doesn't go down too well in the Black Country. I get a message from a supporter of Cradley Town asking for my phone number, so the 'Manager' (clown) can discuss some of my comments. I tell Ms Moon to double-bolt the doors and to not answer the doorbell, even if they claim to be Jeff Brazier from the People's Postcode Lottery.
The Taxman is back on the groundhopping circuit following major eye surgery. He seems quite chipper when I pick him up from his mansion in Plumtree. He can't even moan about his beloved Nottingham Forest who have hit a rich vein of form of late, apart from a setback at the Northern Soul capital of England, Wigan, on Sunday.
I've suggested that we have a spot of tea at the Tap and Run, a pub and kitchen in the idyllic village of Upper Broughton, which nestles on the Notts/ Leics border. The pub is part-owned by Notts cricketers Stuart Broad and Harry Gurney. The beers on offer aren't thrilling. I have a lime and soda instead. We sit in the conservatory and chew the cud whilst hoovering up fish and chips. The chips are chunky and undercooked, a bit like some of Harry Gurney's long hops in the T20 Blast.
Tonight, there is a Leicestershire Senior Cup tie between Melton Town and Barrow Town. The venue, the Melton Sports Village, is alive with kids teams training in a variety of sports, as we park up just shy of fifteen minutes before kick-off.
Ms Moon and I first visited the ground back in 2016. It was very much work in progress then and still is now. Mind you, the pitch is immaculate. I've always wondered why a town the size of Melton Mowbray (population 25,000) doesn't have a decent football team. This does seem to have been addressed over recent years. There's certainly a pedigree of player in these parts as former Nottingham Forest wingers Paul Anderson and Oliver Burke are from the market town.
Barrow are excellent in the first half, playing up the slope. The Taxman is already bleating that it's going to be 0-0, at half-time, as we queue up for a cup of tea. I'm taken aback and startled to see who is playing in centre midfield for Melton. I recognize his low sense of gravity, his fleet of foot and speed of thought. It's former Mansfield Town and Lincoln City winger, Nathan Arnold.
Arnold scored an injury-time winner for the Imps at Sincil Bank versus Ipswich Town three years ago, in an FA Cup third-round replay. Sticky Palms moonwalked down the aisle when Arnold rounded the 'keeper and rolled the ball into an empty net. Lincoln made over £3 million from that Cup run. Nathan has battled with anxiety in recent years and is a motivational speaker on the subject.
Melton run out 3-1 winners, but it's the visiting No.10 and No.11 who catch the eye for Barrow Town. I look forward to watching them again with a pint of ale and cooked chips, pre-match, at the Packe Arms in Hoton.
Sticky jnr ('The Keyworth Georgie Best') has sorted a couple of tickets out for the clash with Hull City. He's been a diehard Red for over 20 years now, during which he's had very little to cheer about in those two decades. When Joe Kinnear and Gary Megson were in charge at Forest and 'junior' had been a naughty boy at home, I used to threaten to take him down to watch the Tricky Trees.
I meet him at the back of the Brian Clough Stand as a Happy Mondays track blasts out of a crackling PA system. He's already had a few scoops in Ruddington and the NFFC Supporters' Club on Pavilion Road, near the main gates. He orders up a bottle of Carlsberg (dishwater) and downs it in two large gulps. Everything he does is at 100 mph. I love him to bits; he's so funny. We had a tough time together when I managed his local team last season, as I never showed him favouritism, or showered him with praise. Quite the opposite, as I often singled him out for criticism. I made a big mistake going back to manage there. He's best left to his own devices.
We sit in the 'Brian Clough Lower.' I always fear for Forest when their colossus, legendary defender Michael Dawson is missing. It's no coincidence that there's a high percentage win-rate when the old warrior is at the heart of their defence. Joe Worrall has come on a bundle since his year-long loan with Steven Gerrard at Rangers. The production line of talent emerging from the youth set up is never-ending. Brennan Johnson and Sticky's favourite, Ryan Yates, are both on the bench.
The opening exchanges are cat and mouse as both teams look to suss one another out. It was like this against Barnsley a month ago when the Tricky Trees were fortunate to take all three points. Hull look there for the taking, but Forest don't seem capable of upping the tempo. I much prefer them when they play on the front foot like they did when D***y Clownty's circus came to town in the League Cup.
Matty Cash is having a torrid time coping with the fast feet of Hull 11 jacket, Polish winger Kamil Grosicki. The opening goal comes from the Hull left and is scored by Josh Magennis. Sticky junior has not only broken the seal but has furiously chewed his way through half a packet of Rowntree fruit pastilles. He fires a few obscenities in the direction of the 690 away fans from Humberside, sat close by, before scurrying off to the concourse for a cheese and onion pasty. Flakes of pastry are spat over my Parka as he angrily dissects the first-half performance.
I mention to 'junior' that I fancy Hull to score another. It duly arrives early in the second half as Dad once again witnesses a string of expletives from an exasperated 'junior'. He's soon out of his chair celebrating a Matty Cash toe-poke after a superb, mazy run by the 22-year-old stand-in full-back who has an outstanding second half.
There's a grandstand finish to the game with the visitors reduced to ten men following a poor tackle. The question marks remain about Forest as a defensive unit. Wide gaps are open and once again they are in debt to some brilliant shot-stopping from bargain-buy Congolese 'keeper Brice Samba, who on this form will be in the Premier League next season, regardless of whether Forest are promoted or not.
Attendance; 27,624
Man of the Match Sticky jnr and Brice Samba
No comments:
Post a Comment