We return to Halifax train station after a comfortable 2-0 win for the Tricky Trees over the Terriers of Huddersfield. There are a few Rozzers knocking about as Stockport County have been playing at The Shay. I move out of our hotel and slog it across town up to a Premier Inn. A Forest Tyke has very kindly tipped me off, on twitter, about a craft ale tap house close by.
The majority of Sunday is spent in the quaint town of Holmfirth where 31 series and 295 episodes of the BBC comedy Last of the Summer Wine was filmed. We stroll up the hill to the churchyard where 'Compo' and 'Cleggy' are laid to rest in adjacent graves. What makes it even more remarkable is that both actors, Bill Owen and Peter Sallis, weren't northerners, but in fact Londoners. Earlier in the day there was a second aborted attempt to find the grave of wrestling legend 'Big Daddy' (Shirley Crabtree) in Halifax.
I tick off a few more real ale houses and craft tap rooms, including Magic Rock Brewery, who sell their beers to many supermarket chains. The long weekend is finished off at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park, close to the City of Wakefield. The park comprises of over 100 sculptures set in 500 acres of woodland in the 18th Century Bretton Hall Estate. It's a steal at £6 entry per person.
It's Tuesday evening. I've eased myself back into work and I'm now sitting in my armchair, like Jim Royle, watching (suffering) Emmerdale Farm. The latest news is that Cain Dingle has given somebody another good hiding. The bloke has made more court appearances than Rumpole of the Bailey. The only other piece of news to report is that Amos Brearly, the landlord of the Woolpack, has changed a barrel of Timothy Taylor's.
Things go from bad to worse the following evening when it is announced, from the set of the cobbled streets of Weatherfield, in Coronation Street, that crowd favourite Norris Cole has sadly passed away. Rita will have to wheel in a replacement paper lad at The Kabin.
I've a planning meeting at Junkyard Bottle Shop and Pour House, on Bridlesmith Walk, in Nottingham, with Tony Mac at Thursday teatime. I'm waiting for a big operation on my dodgy 'mince pie' so have to do everything at short notice. The plan was to go boozing down east London for a few days. After a couple of big-hitting craft ales we opt for a day and night in Leeds, followed by a Trans Pennine Real Ale Trail, by rail, the following day, finishing off with a few early evening scoops in Wakefield.
I return home to the devastating news of the sudden death of our fridge freezer. The knock-on effect is how the heck am I going to keep my craft ales cold? Ms Moon is crying a river of tears as her Prosecco is at room temperature. We're relying on Amazon to deliver a beer fridge in the next 24 hours otherwise the weekend will be in ruins.
Amazon have come up trumps; the fridge is delivered at 6 p.m. Ms Moon is a bit miffed as she was watching The Chase. Beers and bubbles are fridged up; happy days are here again. It's an early night as it feels like Christmas Eve. It's near on 20 months since I last saw 'The Lincoln' play. They produced some of the best football in their 137- year-old history last season - the fans hardly saw a ball kicked. Our fantastic manager Michael Appleton is recovering from cancer. I love him to bits.
Ms Moon drops her daughter, Becky, off at The Plough at Normanton, on the Old Melton Road, in the picturesque village of Normanton on-the-Wolds, in south Notts. She is the general manager at this cosy gastro pub, where I spent many an evening drinking underage, back in the early 1980s - chain-smoking John Player Blue and potting a few Shipstone's ales whilst feeding the Space Invaders machine in the foyer.
After battling through traffic near to Clifton Bridge we jump onto a dual carriageway and hare down the A453 in Ms Moon's Fiat 500 with the Italian go-faster stripes. I pick up the tickets from the ground whilst Ms Moon sticks the car in an industrial estate a five-minute walk away. We chance our arm as there aren't any signs threatening wheel-clamping or £50 fines.
Burton upon Trent is a market town in Staffordshire with a population of over 70,000. It is well known for brewing and exporting beer. At its height it sold 25% of Britain's beer. Sticky Palms loves a pint of Bass or Burton Bridge. Notable people from the town include: the brilliant actor Paddy Considine from Dead Man's Shoes and singer Joe Jackson. The Marmite Food Extract Company was founded in the town in 1902. This by product came from the yeast at the nearby brewery.
There's no posh nosh lunch sat by a canal today. It's muck 'n nettles at Greggs. The sausage roll is nae bad, but the caramel doughnuts aren't a patch on Birds in Sherwood. We wander down Derby Road before crossing over onto Derby Street. I have arranged to meet an old schoolmate, who I've known for over 50 years, at The Alfred public house.
'Robbo' rocks up with his lad Charlie, who has just finished a shift at a butcher's in Leek. I've already sunk a pint of 'Stairway to Heaven' from the Burton Bridge Brewery at 5% abv, in an attempt to settle my nerves. I can already feel my stomach knotting and tightening as the anxiety kicks in. For God's sake I'm meant to enjoy these games.
We enjoy a catch up as a lot has happened in our lives since we last met. I've lost eyesight in my right eye (not that sob story again Sticky) and Robbo has had two knee replacements. His lad is a chip off the old block. He's a tough tackling footballer and a decent all-rounder at cricket.
The teams are filing out of the tunnel as we stand on some concrete steps to the back of the North Stand (home end). 1000 Imps have made the 130 mile-round trip. They are in good voice despite a slow start to the season. Lincoln have been ravaged by injury; they field a side with the average age just shy of 22 years old. Skipper Liam Bridcutt is missing today. He is a huge role model and influencer on this young team.
Lincoln are electric in the first thirty minutes. They bamboozle the Brewers with some fast-flowing two touch passing. On-loan Manchester City 19-year-old attacking midfielder, Lewis Fiorini, puts them ahead on 10 minutes with a 22 yard daisy cutter. Burton finish the half strong. Daniel Jebbison is guilty of a glaring miss.
We chew over the cud at the break as 'I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor' by Arctic Monkeys booms out of the P.A. system. Robbo isn't too happy with the shift Burton have put in. There are reasons to feel more optimistic in the second half, but again chances go begging.
The Imps are lightning on the break. In-form Anthony Scully, a free transfer from West Ham United, bags his 10th goal of the season with a smart finish. Burton can feel hard done by. They are camped in the Lincoln half for the last 30 minutes. There are goal-line clearances and a magnificent one-handed save by 20 year-old 'keeper Josh Griffiths. Albion have hope when clawing a goal back they richly deserve with five minutes remaining. Lincoln hit the post when it looks easier to score and sub Remy Longdon trips over the ball with only the 'keeper to beat.
The travelling fans are loud and on good form; they might need to brush up on their geography though: "You're just a small town in Derby" is volleyed back with "We're in Staffordshire you idiots."
Robbo isn't too happy at the final whistle. 27 attempts at goal and only one cherry dropped in. I can't 'arf pick 'em. Ms Moon's 12th away game with the Imps and the lucky mascot has yet to see them defeated.
Attendance : 3359
Man of the Match: Regan Poole
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