It's January 1974 and I'm leaning back on a wooden chair with my hands behind my head, sat at a wooden desk, at Keyworth Junior School, on Nottingham Road. It's lucky dip time. Everyone's name is in the hat for a prize draw. There are 30 pupils in our class. Due to cutbacks (Ted Heath's Tories are in power), only one minibus will be travelling into Nottingham, to the Savoy Cinema, on Derby Road.
We've been reading Barry Hines's classic book, A Kestrel for a Knave, for weeks now. I'm sat next to my best mate Kev Flinton. We both desperately want to see the film adaptation by Ken Loach - there's no second chance viewing on Betamax, Film 4 or Amazon Prime. I'm last out of the hat, a bit like Chichester City in the first round draw of the FA Cup a few weeks back - I don't win £36,000 for doing nowt, but hey, I'm on the coach for a big day out in town.
I'm mesmerised and captivated by the screenplay. I cry my eyes out (we all do; you should all do) when Billy finds Kes dead in the dustbin, killed by his brother, nasty man Jud, because Billy forgot to place a 'winning bet' at the bookies on the horses for him. The football scene in the film lives long in the memory. Brian Glover plays the PE teacher, who despite being from Yorkshire is obsessed with Manchester United and, in particular, Bobby Charlton. If you've never seen Billy Casper swinging on the crossbar then get on YouTube and hunt down the scene. A few years later, my mate, Kev, got his own back when we pulled short straws to be ball boys at Nottingham Forest v West Ham United - tell you what though, I wouldn't have missed Kes for the world.
By coincidence, Ms Moon and I are up at Dodworth Miners' Welfare on Saturday for some Sheffield and Hallamshire County Senior League action, in the Barnsley area, close to where Kes was filmed. What's even more remarkable is that the actor Greg Davies (Mr Gilbert off The Inbetweeners) is featuring in a BBC Four documentary called Looking For Kes.
It's a compelling, heart-warming hour of TV; the BBC at its best, and also a welcome break from all the General Election tosh we're being served up. Davies, a Welshman, admits to having never visited Barnsley before. He meets Ken Loach and Billy Casper actor Dai Bradley. He's visibly moved throughout the story when he learns how the book was pieced together by Barry Hines.
I mention to Ms Moon, the following day, on whether she fancies a trip down memory lane to Hoyland Common, where Kes author Barry Hines grew up and wrote the book. The deal is signed and sealed. All we need now is the rain to hold off.
'The Lincoln' have been in freefall since 'He Who Should Not Be Named' did a moonlight flit. To be honest their form had dipped before his departure. Two wins in fifteen games has seen the Imps plummet down the League table, as new incumbent Michael Appleton oversees a new era and playing style. In their hour of need and 'fresh' from a week's sunshine in Tenerife, I jump into my car on Tuesday evening and zip up the A46.
It's the usual pre-match ritual. I have pasta at Ask Italian on the Brayford. I take my seat in the Selenity Stand, 45 minutes before kick-off. I love watching the ground come alive: The pre-match warm-ups, Sincil Bank filling up and the music booming out of the PA system. Boy oh boy, they are knocking some toons out this evening. Hard-Fi, 'Hard To Beat', New Order, 'Regret' and Stone Roses, 'Made of Stone' are the pick of the bunch.
'City' are short on confidence in front of goal. Big John Akinde shanks two gilt-edged chances wide of goal. The inevitable happens with seconds remaining on the clock. Former Notts County, Irish attacking midfielder, Alan Judge, finishes off a fine passing move from the Tractor Boys. It's payback time from three seasons ago when a Nathan Arnold last gasp winner, live on national TV, knocked Ipswich out of the third round. The Imps went onto make £3 million from that Cup run.
I'm back on my old stomping ground the following evening. Keyworth United will fancy their chances in the Notts Senior Cup against Ashland Rovers from the north of the county. The Green Army control the first half and look good value for a 1-0 lead shortly before half time. An own goal changes the script. In the second half, they forget how to defend and lack legs, intelligence or energy. A fitter, slicker visiting team run out worthy 4-2 winners.
It's Friday evening and I'm like a kid at Christmas. I've mapped out our trip up to South Yorkshire tomorrow, regardless as to whether Dodworth MW v Houghton Main is hosed off. I'm tucked up and fast off by 10,30 p.m.
I find out in the Schwartz spice aisle in Morrisons that Dodworth MW twitter have announced that the game has been watered off. Oh well, at least the chilli con carne is still on the menu this evening. I have another game up my sleeve at High Green Villa, near Hillsborough, Sheffield. It's where the Indie band Arctic Monkeys are from. They mention the Sheffield suburb in the song 'Ritz to the Rubble.' - to the taxi driver: "It's High Green, mate, via/Hillsborough, please." The problem is that Sticky Palms doesn't do 3G.
A proper groundhopper on Facebook comes to the rescue. He mentions a club called Oughtibridge War Memorial Sports Club play on grass, and that it drains well too. Ms Moon drives north up the M1 with the pitter-patter of rain dancing on the windscreen.
I check my clipboard (borrowed off Gordon from The Brittas Empire). The first scheduled stop is St Peter's Church in Tankersley. We both love a bit of celebrity grave-hunting. It has brought a few comedy moments and tears over the years. Ms Moon likes to be first on the scene, but today is my moment.
Yesterday, first thing, I emailed Dai Bradley the actor who played Billy Casper in Kes. He kindly replied as quick as a flash to tell me where the book's author, Barry Hines is laid to rest. We pay our respects at his graveside, before the short journey into Hoyland Common.
Dai Bradley has told me there's a blue plaque at 78 Hoyland Common where Barry Hines, a humble, working-class man was born. Ms Moon spins the car around at a deserted police station and parks a short distance up the road. The queue at Caspers chip road is snaking out of the door as the lass behind the counter serves at a snail's pace. I ask Ms Moon if she would be so kind to drive up to the ruin where Billy first discovered Kes. The stone brick wall is still there. Everything seems untouched from forty years ago. We finally get chips and batter bits at the second time of asking.
Ms Moon negotiates awkward car-parking conditions at Oughtbridge WMSC. I take a few snaps before hooking up with the good lady. We're both gobsmacked and taken aback with a tree adorned to the clubhouse brick wall where those that served our country and lost their lives in the two World Wars are remembered and named in a tree sculpture.
The ground is an absolute pearler. What a day we're having. The game doesn't live up to the setting; a massive hat tip to all the volunteers whose efforts have pulled out the stops to get the game on, and have prevented a grumpy groundhopper from swallowing his pride and watching a game on 3G.
Ms Moon remarks that one or two of the lads look out of shape I explain that we're dipping our toe into Step 7 where camaraderie, team-spirit and taking part are more important. The biggest lad on the field has a first touch to die for and a shot on him. He opens the scoring with an Exocet missile that Ms Moon misses as she grabs a coffee and chinwags with the Referees' secretary.
I meet Bobby a six-month-old Staffy puppy. She's as daft as a brush and won't calm down for a still shot without a choccy drop out of Dad's pocket.
It's been one of the best days out in ages. Just think, we could have stopped in for Jeff Stelling's Soccer Saturday. Not on your Nellie.
Man of the Match: Billy Casper (Dai Bradley)
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