We're on our way home from Boston United, having ticked off their brand spanking new stadium. We pull onto The Green at Car Colston. The Royal Oak was voted Vale of Belvoir and Nottinghamshire CAMRA Pub of the Year in 2020. Trumpy Bolton leads the charge to the bar. Six Nations Rugby is on the TV. The cosy bar is packed to the rafters.
We head back to the Keyworth Tavern. I'm staying the night at the Big Man's. There's no urgency to go home as Ms Moon and daughter Becky are at a James Blunt concert at the Nottingham Motorpoint Arena. I enjoy a couple of pints with Trumpy before picking up a Chinese from Jasmine House on The Parade. The rest of the evening is spent slouched on the Big Man's sofa watching football.
On Sunday morning mine host rustles me up poached eggs on toast for breakfast. Dafty picks me up at bang on 10 o'clock. He's got Mabel the black Labrador on the back seat. We drive over Lady Bay Bridge and turn onto the Colwick Loop Road. The car is parked behind Victoria Retail Park, in Netherfield, adjacent to a car auction site.
We spend the morning wandering around Netherfield Lagoons before dropping down to the River Trent and walking in the direction of Stoke Bardolph. Dafty drops me off at Chez Palms at lunchtime. There's no Sunday pub drinks today. I collapse into my armchair and knock up the Boston blog which is well received by over 1000 readers.
It's Tuesday tea time and approaching 5 p.m. A colleague and I race down the stairs at Ideagen HQ and jump into a car. 'Banksy' is a Lincoln City season ticket holder. He has very kindly offered to drive me to Sincil Bank this evening for the visit of Doncaster Rovers who are involved in a relegation dogfight.
We hit Lincoln city centre in less than an hour. The schools are on half-term this week, so there is only light traffic. 'Banksy' parks up on Robey Street where my nana used to live. A short walk away on the High Street is The Shakespeare. I down a pint of Guinness whilst 'Banksy' chats with his mates.
There are some food outlets at the back of the Crypto Currency Stand at the ground. We both enjoy a curry before parting company as we are sitting in different areas of the LNER Stadium.
City's form has been patchy and our home record is poor. The Imps huff and puff but can't blow the house down. Donny finally have shot at goal just shy of half-time. There is gallows humour from the away support who sing "44 and we had a shot." It brings a smile to my face.
The second half is a car crash for Lincoln. The only bright spark is the full debut for Arsenal on loan 18-year-old full back Brooke Norton-Cuffy. His marauding runs have the crowd on their feet applauding the youngster. Remember the name; you heard it here first.
Play is suspended on 64 minutes following a medical emergency in the crowd. Thankfully the gentleman is breathing as he's stretchered into the back of a waiting ambulance. Doncaster score totally against the run of play. Walsh handles the ball after a corner. The spot kick is hit high into the roof of the net by Dan Gardner. The score stays 1-0 with Lincoln barely threatening an equaliser. It's 11.30 p.m. by the time I return home. Thanks for the lift 'Banksy.'
I manage a couple of pints with Tony Mac in Junkyard, Nottingham early on Thursday evening after a stressful bus journey from Ruddington. Ms Moon and I enjoy a chippy tea from Oceans at the bottom of Carlton Hill.
It's Friday morning and the day of the match. I won't be seeing much of Ms Moon as she is off to Murcia in Spain with work on Monday. I work myself, for a couple of hours, as I need some time off for a funeral on Monday afternoon. The next few hours are spent refreshing twitter as AFC Bournemouth have promised an update in the morning as Storm Eunice sweeps through the country. The plan was to meet Dave for breakfast at the Quayside Cafe near Nottingham Racecourse in Colwick. The storm is disrupting plans. Piers and 'Bruiser' are travelling down in another. car. We agree to leave no later than 12.30 p.m.
There's still no word from Bournemouth as Dave picks me up. We're expecting carnage on the roads as the gusts of wind are expecting to be 80 miles plus. By the start of Steve Wright in the Afternoon Show we have made good progress on the M40. The eastbound traffic is gridlocked due to an overturned lorry that lays on its side across the three lanes. Recovery workers are also pulling a lorry from out of a ditch.
The inevitable news comes from that tinpot of a club at 3.45pm when we're 15 minutes away from Bournemouth. Allegedly there has been damage to the stadium roof. The fact of the matter remains that the clowns who run the club have chosen not to communicate with supporters until four hours before kick off. My lad Jack posts on Facebook 'You can't 'arf pick 'em, Dad'
Unperturbed we check-in at the Park Central Hotel. It's not particularly windy as we head out towards the seafront. The pier is shut off due to the high winds. We walk towards Sandbanks a small peninsula crossing the mouth of Poole Harbour. It is known for its high property prices and award-winning beach. I remember scoring 49 retired hurt at beach cricket against Jack and Joe Palmer when they were 8 years old and six years old respectively Stubbed my toe on a pebble dashing back for two runs to complete my half century.
Sandbanks isn't all that. We were hoping that local celebrity residents Harry and Sandra Redknapp might knock us up a jam roly-poly. Sourcing any food or drink is problematic. There's no room at the inn at Rick Stein's or Lazy Jacks. The latter very kindly book us a cab back to Bournemouth.
The helpful taxi driver is like a tour guide. He drops us on the High Street where there are plenty of choices for food. A table for four is available at a Greek restaurant called Zorba. We enjoy (well Dave and I do) some Raki and Ouzo shots courtesy of the owner. We tuck into a mezze and some lamb kebabs. It's washed down with a bottle of Rioja. We end the evening at Cosy Club. The craft bars and real ale houses can wait until tomorrow evening. First stop will be Main Reception at AFC Bournemouth where I be asking for an explanation and demanding an apology.
We meet for breakfast at 8.30 a.m. One or two of us are bleary-eyed as a cranked up bass turned up to the max was banging out tunes until 4 a.m. at a nightclub next door. My mood isn't helped when the waiter announces that I will be charged extra for ordering an Americano - not a chance pal.
We walk up the coastal path, in the opposite direction, to Boscombe. The excuse for a football ground (and club) is a ten-minute walk inland. The car park is deserted but there is movement in Reception. A security guard dashes out the front door demanding to know what we want. I ask to speak to a club official and I'm told nobody is in and that the ground is under a prohibition order. A suited and booted club official runs away from me up some stairs when challenged what position he holds. The security guard says that they've all been told to keep shtum. I smell a rat and lose my temper before turning on my heels and heading back up into town. The Club couldn't give two hoots about our 430 mile round trip in a Force 10 gale.
I cool off and keep dry in the Russell-Cotes Art Gallery and Museum. It whiles away an hour. It's a lavish cliff top house with panoramic views of the sea. The exotic seaside villa is filled with objects bought from 50 different countries that the couple visited on their travels. It's well worth £7.50 of anybody's money.
I had looked at the possibility of a Non League game close by. Poole Town are away. The games at Wimborne Town and Christchurch have been washed away by the rain. There's a good shout from 'Barthez' that Southampton v Everton is game on, but it's too late to sort anything out. And as we all know Sticky doesn't do 3G/4G.
The rest of the day is spent diving in and out of pubs. The Hop Inn was taken over by NFFC fans last night. The drinking and singing lasted long into the night. There are still a few Tricky Tree fans in there when we rock up at just after 3 p.m. I manage to sneak in a couple of real ale pubs called The Goat and Tricycle and Poole Hill Brewery.
Evening meal is eaten in an Italian restaurant called El Murrino. We finish the night up listening to 90s bangers in a trendy bar called 1812. I even manage a gin and tonic which is a rarity these days.
Man of the Match: Dave Marshall for driving through Storm Eunice.
Rest in Peace Paul 'Willy' Gee a proper Keyworth United legend. Love you mate xx
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