It's Monday morning and I've jumped into a cab in Carlton. Destination, for the umpteenth time, is the Queen's Medical University Hospital, in Nottingham. For those of you who are first-time readers of this 15- year-old blog, I've had no sight in my right eye (detached retina) for over 12 months; add to that my other eye has a cataract that requires surgery. Tom, at work, calls me 'The Carlton Stevie Wonder' - I must check-in with HR on that one.
The taxi driver, from Iran, is also down on his luck. He and his wife have saved hard-earned cash since 2008 for IVF treatment, without success. I feel sad and selfish for thinking about my plight. It's good news at the hospital when my consultant, Mr Zaman, sends me for a pre-operation assessment. I'm measured up for a new lense to be fitted sometime in September. I'll finally be able to watch the Soaps with Ms Moon again .. Doh!
I'm happy as Larry as I skip out of the sliding doors of the main entrance and into a taxi. My driver is from Afghanistan. He's angry about the West's withdrawal as he has family stranded out there. I sympathise with him and wish him well. I've a spring in my step for the rest of the day. At close of play I finish off with an 8 mile walk around Colwick Park, a happy place I spent many an hour at during 'Lockdown.'
It's Tuesday evening and the same drill. I wander around the banks of the River Trent and the back streets of Lady Bay with Alex, a good friend from work. We hook up with 'Our Joe' and 'Dafty' at the Stratford Haven in West Bridgford (a pub my father opened) - it's on a road where one of Nottinghamshire's greatest ever cricketers lived. C.E.B. Rice was a hard-hitting batsman and fiery fast bowler from South Africa. He lived at 246 Stratford Road. How do I know that? Because it was listed in the phone directory.
I bump into an old school pal, 'Tich' Colman, a Keyworth Tavern legend, who works in the brewing industry. It's like a busman's holiday to him as he can 'put more away' than blog legend Trumpy Bolton. Dafty and I stroll up Bridgford Road before meeting up with 'Bally' in the car park of The City Ground' behind the Peter Taylor Stand.
Wolves arrive on the back of a 1-0 reverse versus Spurs on Sunday. Manager, Bruno Lage, makes 7x changes. Nottingham Forest's back five (including their 'keeper) have one League appearance between them. NFFC are battered for 90 minutes despite holding the baying pack 0-0 at the break.
I'm back at Trent Bridge on Wednesday evening - thankfully it's for cricket and not football. I alight the bus outside Topknot Hair and Beauty, just to the north of the river. I adore Castle Rock's The Embankment pub. It's filling up with cricket supporters who whet their appetite at the prospect of a T20 quarter final clash between Notts Outlaws and Hampshire Hawks.
I wash down a Meatball Melt, wrapped in flatbread, with a pint of Fletchers from a microbrewery in Newark-on-Trent. Traffic is gridlocked as I Jaywalk over Trent Bridge. I enter the ground on Hound Road. I plonk myself in my favourite spot in the Larwood and Voce Stand.
Hampshire are under the cosh from the very first ball and post what looks like a dismal 125-9. The bloke behind me says 145 is a par score. The wicket looks slow and the ball is keeping low, but then again what do I know with only half an eye on proceedings?
Notts have a history of self-combustion and capitulation. I'm dreaming of celebratory beers in Sneinton Market ('The New Covent Garden') as the Outlaws cruise at 65-1. Another Finals' Day beckons at Edgbaston. I rub my eyes in disbelief and pop an extra blood pressure pill as I witness the unthinkable loss of nine wickets for 68 runs. Notts would have been better off sending in 'Nuts' (a squirrel) the mascot rather than 11 jacket Dane Paterson as he feathers a ball to the 'keeper to see Hants through. The away following mock the Trent Bridge faithful with a rendition of an old Joy Division song 'Notts ... Notts are falling apart again." Clive Rice will have been turning in his grave.
I'm so angry with Notts' display that I hardly speak to a soul on Thursday. My mood is lifted with an annual appearance at the Ruddington Beer Festival on Friday evening. I hook up with Tom (Tottenham home and away) and Charlie (Chelsea toff and Rugger fan) on the village green. 'The Keyworth Georgie Best' (my eldest lad) rocks up with a beer in hand, whilst drooling over a rolled-up cigarette that hangs from his lips. He's hung up his boots for KUFC after a 20 years of loyalty - I can't say I blame him, as he was treated appallingly by his previous 'manager.' I go in big on the ABV's from the Bang the Elephant brewery based in Langley Mill. It's bus fare home for Sticky Palms at 9.30 p.m. and lights out before 10.30 p.m. without supper too.
I'm up with the larks on Saturday morning and down at Tesco Carlton just shy of 8.30 a.m. I'm rustling up a prawn linguine tonight, it's a piece of cake folks (just don't tell Ms Moon as I'll string it out). I don't hang around in the supermarket as Craig David is on Radio Tesco - it sees most shoppers scampering towards the exit door.
I mow the lawn and prune the roses before taking a shower and jumping on the No.27 bus into Nottingham. I cross over Southwell Road and walk through the doors of the Fox and Grapes in Sneinton Market. Bar staff are huddled around a radio listening to the fag end of the first half between D***y and Forest. The Rams are a goal to the good. I enjoy a pint of Atlantis from North Brewing Co, based in Leeds. I head past the Nottingham Arena. I get angry when I notice that Michael Ball and Alfie Boe are playing there in December. They couldn't even sell out Carlton Top Spot.
I love going down Meadow Lane. The Pies remind me of my team, Lincoln City - luck is not often on their side. The hullabaloo of the attention-seeking previous owner, Alan Hardy, is a distant memory. The dreamy, Walter Mitty character promised to get Notts out of League Two - he delivered in his second season as 'U Pies' plummeted into the National League. It never sat comfortable with County faithful that Hardy surrounded himself with Forest fans at Board level. His cronies formed a drinking circle in the pretentious bars of West Bridgford (the Red Side) with then manager Kevin Nolan, but soon spat their dummies out when the forementioned was relieved of his duties following defeat, ironically, at Sincil Bank.
The new owners, in contrast, are under the radar and don't seek the limelight. They have a business model, although BREXIT has wreaked havoc, with points required to work in the U.K. They have, however, managed to capture a couple of players from Torquay, who caught their eye last season.
I meet another 'Tavern' legend, Alan Jackson, along with his son, Stuart, next to a wall where supporters have bought bricks in an effort to raise much-needed funds. 'Jacko' has five family members named on separate bricks. 'The Taxman (big mates with 'Jacko and myself) is a no-show today. 'Jacko' says he's in hospital awaiting surgery on a hernia - he's had more operations than Darren Anderton.
I'm sat in the Derek Pavis Stand. The playing surface looks immaculate. The DJ's set is decent - 'Pump it Up' by Elvis Costello and the Attractions and 'Juice' by Lizzo are the pick of the bunch.
Notts are slow out of the blocks as the visitors impress in the early exchanges. The Magpies see an effort crash off the woodwork. The game-changing moment is a spoiler for us neutrals (obviously I want Notts to win). Wootton is through on goal and is fouled. It's a straight Red for the offender. Dan Holman, a player I have admired for many years, since his Histon days, is sacrificed on the half hour. Incredibly the Gulls take the lead. The goalie launches the ball down the middle, County fail to deal with it, allowing the ball to bounce, Slocombe, in the nets, hesitates and is beaten in the air by Danny Wright - it's route one at its finest and without finesse.
I chance upon 'Jacko' at the break. He's already on his second packet of Hamlet cigars. He prefers to wax lyrical about his recent Keyworth Bowls Club Doubles Championship win with his partner 'Doc' Martin. He also chuckles when he lets slip that 'The Taxman' is moaning about a soon-to-be enforcement of 20 mph speeds limits in the city centre - I nod in agreement as The Taxman has failed to get out of second gear on most journeys - a little like the Magpies in the first half.
Torquay are pinned back in their own half for most of the second half. There is stoic defending as they block, head away and throw themselves in front of a flurry of crosses. Notts make the breakthrough. A Chicksen cross is headed home by fans' favourite Wootton.
It's all set up for a grandstand finish, but Notts just can't break 'em down. It's like the bull versus the matador. There's a set-to with the two managers on the touchline as Torquay understandably deploy cringeworthy time-wasting tactics - they are on another level to Danny Cowley's Lincoln City
Torquay see out six minutes of injury time with relative ease despite their tiring limbs. Notts will need to put up a better showing in North Wales at big-spending Wrexham on Monday evening, if they don't want to come back empty-handed.
Attendance: 6,934
Man of the Match:
Mr Zaman, my eye consultant
Thanks to Rich Cooper for ground photo.
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