I wander back into the Minster town of Southwell following the final ever game of Senior football at the War Memorial Ground. A young Keyworth side have competed but not created enough, in open play, to come away with any reward.
I jump on the No.26 bus outside Southwell Minster. Within 30 minutes I'm walking through my front door in Carlton. There's enough time for a shower and a shave before a DG taxi pulls up at just gone five bells. We're dropped off in Hockley, a cool as Clough hipster area of Nottingham. We're having to queue outside Peggy's Skylight, a jazz club on George Street, as temperatures plummet. It's a James Bond themed night. We're here to celebrate Piers and Barney's birthdays.
There's no sign of real ales or craft ales. It's for the best as I've been coming down with summat for the last few days. I settle for a glass of Merlot as the band strike up the Bond theme tune. A voluptuous lady singer appears from nowhere. She belts out a few Bond hits including 'Diamonds Are Forever' and 'Licensed to Kill.' There's rapturous applause and a standing ovation an hour later. We finish up the evening in a French restaurant called Bistro Pierre on Milton Street. A few of our group move onto Revolution De Cuba. I'm done in folks; it's goodnight Vienna.
There's no Sunday lunchtime stroll around Nottingham city centre, where I usually swing by Lillie Langtry's or the Fox and Grapes in Sneinton Market. I manage one solitary can of craft ale; kidding myself that an ale full of mango and bananas will form part of my two out of five a day.
I work from home on Monday and don't leave the house all day; not even to go to the dustbin. I'll take a fitness test in the morning to see if I'm up for work and more importantly Nottingham Forest v Sheffield United at the world famous The City Ground.
I jump on the 27 bus out of Carlton at 6.30 a.m. on Tuesday. I feel as rough as a badger's arse, but there's no way I'm missing football. A friend at work, Alex, runs me into West Bridgford at teatime. I have a soft drink at Trent Bridge Inn and a bite to eat with some work colleagues. I peg it out of the pub and onto Radcliffe Road before turning onto Fox Road where the Larwood and Voce pub is housed.
I hook up with Tricky Tree fan and top Twitter wind-up merchant, Jitz Jani. Dexter Blackstock is his latest victim to have had a nibble on social media. The cricket T20 World Cup is barely mentioned due to a dismal showing thus far from India. Although there is some talk of four days away in Amsterdam, next June, when England play Holland at cricket in three ODIs. Jitz says it's only £110 on the Eurostar.
Everyone is sinking pints ten to the dozen. Sticky Palms looks a sorry sight sipping on his diet coke. We're pretty much last into the ground - a stark contrast to my usual itinerary. Mull of Kintyre is at the fag end of the final chorus.
It only takes the visiting support five minutes before the tiresome, boring, predictable chants of SCAB are hurled in our direction. The first 25 minutes are a drab affair with the Blades dominating possession without looking a real threat. Forest pick up the pace with on loan right back, Djed Spence, a constant threat with his athleticism, pace and strength.
I get chinwagging to an old boss of mine at the break, who has been a season ticket holder in 'B' Block for many years. He's not too chuffed to see me, as he's well aware of what a Jonah I am on my visits to The City Ground.
Forest are excellent in the second half but fall behind to a sucker punch of a goal on the counterattack scored by on loan Wolves attacker Morgan Gibbs-White. Forest play with courage and heart. They deservedly equalise through their talisman and captain Lewis Grabban. The game has been breathtaking and played at a fast pace.
I rest up for the next few days as I've a big day out on the sauce with Tony Mac and 'Mad Dog' on Friday. We meet up for breakfast at Bill's on Queen Street. It's dished up cold, a bug bear of mine. I ask the waiter to remove the service charge before settling up the bill.
We catch the 10.35 a.m. train to the Metropolis (Lincoln). Sticky has some cracking pubs lined-up for the lads. Tony Mac is keen to avoid the Steep Hill area of Lincoln as it has had its fair share of victims. We try to circumnavigate the area, finally joining the Hill halfway up.
Former Lincoln City manager, Chris Moyses, is an authority on the watering holes and eateries in Lincoln City centre. He's tipped me Morning Star, just off Steep Hill. The landlady is tossing a couple of logs onto a roaring fire as we walk. into the Lounge. I enjoy a pint of ale from the Pheasantry stable, based in East Markham, Newark, as I also do in the following pub, the popular Strugglers Inn.
It all gets messy in BeerHeadZ where 'Mad Dog', living up to his nickname and reputation, necks a 11% craft ale. The rounds start to get silly and it isn't even 3 pm yet. We share cans of 10% ales before jumping on the train to Newark Northgate.
A further three pubs are ticked off in Newark - Just Beer, The Navigation and Castle Barge. It's an omnishambles folks. We end up walking back to the wrong station before finally pitching up at Newark Castle. 'Mad Dog' catches the 8.35 p.m. bus back to Keyworth whilst Mac and I finish off the evening at crowd favourite Barley Twist. It's the usual drill for Sticky Palms, Five Guys and lights out.
I'm dog tired on Saturday morning. I had planned to blog from Bestwood village where Netherfield Seniors were the visitors. Legendary striker, John Manders, tipped me the wink late on Friday evening that the visitors had cancelled the fixture. Second choice game was Wollaton v Keyworth. The No.30 bus can be caught outside West End Arcade on Upper Parliament. Ms Moon is as happy as Larry, two-fold: her granddaughter is visiting this afternoon and yours truly is cooking this evening during Strictly Come Dancing.
I alight the bus outside the Admiral Rodney, a pub I used to take first dates to, back in the 80s. After yesterday's shenanigans alcohol is the last thing on my mind. I stand in silence, head bowed, outside the Royal British Legion
I'm greeted at the gate by Wollaton Chairman Bill Fishwick, who has volunteered tirelessly for years at the club. It's £3 on the gate including a programme. I make my apologies as I'm cashless but promise I will make a donation to the club. Bill is really chatty and says he reads my blog religiously and follows my Twitter feed too.
I bump into a good mate from back in my Keyworth CC days. Johnny Buttery is also a groundhopper. We usually meet up a couple of times a season but this has become harder as he is often on standby as an emergency driver who delivers organs to hospitals for life-changing operations.
Big Sam Ralph is on the lash in Prague with half of Clifton. Chris Thompson and Lee Clarke stand in for him as Green Army managers. The Sugarbags of Wollaton are managed by Justin Eastman. It's a scrappy disjointed opening to the game, with neither team able to string two passes together on an uneven playing surface.
A game-changing event happens with Keyworth's Daniel Chadwick limping off after a heavy challenge. He's replaced by Adam Wright whose impact is immediate, nodding home a far post cross after a brilliant passage of play. Keyworth see out the remaining half. It's worth noting that Archie Wood has been a handful for the visiting defence.
We go for a warm in the wonderful, cosy, green painted wooden pavilion which formed part of the set for the award-winning ITV sitcom 'Outside Edge.' 'Butters' shouts the teas up as I promise to pledge a donation to the club. The wind has picked up as we return pitchside for the second half.
Sticky's favourite ever striker, Tom Siswick, is playing up top for Keyworth. He oozes class. I promise Butters that he will deliver. After a couple of sighters he duly obliges. 'Tom Siswick Scores Goals' is what we called him when I was his manager.
Minutes later an extraordinary incident takes place. Wollo's best player, Tommy Street, clocks the 6' 5" Keyworth 'keeper off his line. Wind against, he hits a shot goalwards from all of 60 yards. It hangs in the air for an age before dropping over a back-pedalling 'keeper. It's a jaw-dropping moment of class and a beauty, deserving of a round of applause.
Tom Siswick does what he does best, putting the game to bed in the latter stages, lobbing the 'keeper when through on goal. It's been another fantastic afternoon out. £4.40 on the bus and £3 entry (which I will pay Bill).
I can't 'arf pick 'em
Attendance: 29
Man of the Match: Referee Kevin Guise was superb. Talking to players and not waving yellows
Woman of the Match: Morning Star Landlady for throwing those logs onto the fire.
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