It's 5 a.m. on Sat, 2nd July, 2022. I'm in a taxi on my way up to Ripley, to a bloke's house ('Smiffy') - a Non League legend, who I've never met before. I'm shattered folks. I landed at East Midlands Airport yesterday afternoon, after a week away in Puerto Pollensa, in northern Majorca. I've overindulged in craft ales, gins, red wine and tapas. I'm fat, tired, mardy and irritated. I need to up my game, as I'm stepping out for 26 miles, later, for charity.
Let's 'Re-Rewind', as that Herbert, Craig David, would say. It's April 2022. I'm sat in the Bread and Bitter on Mapperley Tops with two die-hard Nottingham Forest supporters (Peachy and Pete). It's the first time we've been acquainted, We do have something in common though. By fate, chance and misfortune we stood close to one another at Hillsborough, 33 years ago. 97 people lost their lives that day. It became one of Britain's biggest ever cover-ups. Margaret Thatcher, South Yorkshire Police and that scum of a red top daily tabloid, that I can't bring myself to say, colluded and hatched a plot to firmly lay the blame on the supporters of Liverpool. Add to that the corrupt involvement of the West Midlands Police Force, with altered, fabricated and falsified statements.
Astonishingly, those bungling, incompetent fools at the FA insisted that the game should be replayed. Don't forget it was this joke of a governing body that chose the game would be played at Hillsborough - a stadium that was dangerous, with a history of near-miss incidents, a stadium whose safety certificate was 'very out of date.' Never forget that they got away scot free!
The reason we are all together in the pub is that a group of Nottingham Forest supporters are looking to raise monies for the Hillsborough Survivors Supporters Alliance. Funds need to be raised for private therapy for people affected by the events of that awful day - this includes folk from Nottingham too. To date this has changed 117 lives with a 98% success rate.
Despite being overcast, the air is humid and the heat stifling as we begin the sponsored walk from Anfield Stadium, adjacent to the Hillsborough Memorial, which breaks my heart when I stand and stare silently at it, 'Smiffy' and Martin point out that a young lad they knew of, from Swanwick, Derbyshire, was amongst those who lost their lives. He was just 18 years old.
The walk is amazing and humbling too. Cars constantly hoot and toot us, in an effort to raise our spirits, as the heat intensifies. We pass Everton's wonderful old ground, Goodison Park, and one of Sticky's faves, Marine FC, up in Crosby. We stop for refreshments and go again, this time up to Aintree Racecourse and into Kirkby where Liverpool's state of the art training ground is located. We finish at Arkles pub, close to Anfield. 26 miles in total are chalked up on my Strava app. I celebrate with the group. It's a wonderful, emotional and tear-jerking moment. The Nottingham branch are led by Pete. He is an amazing, driven and passionate human being. Our small group have raised £2000 #RIP97 - well done to Ness and Michael too.
Fast forward to last Saturday. Carlton Town have let a two goal lead slip. I chance upon the referee's assessor in the car park. He's already having his ear chewed off by an angry Millers' supporter. The question is should Sheffield FC's 'keeper have been sent off for wiping out an attacker and conceding a penalty? According to the assessor the answer is NO. I zip up my gob (I've had two pints) and make a hasty exit. I'm still sulking an hour later as I try to relax in the Old Volunteer pub on Burton Road.
Sunday morning is spent with blog legend 'The Big Man' on the banks of the Trent and in the Stratford Haven public house in West Bridgford. We stop briefly on the Trent Embankment to view Poets Young Boys dishing out a walloping. Former NFFC striker, David Johnson, father of Brennan, is amongst the spectators. 'The Big Man' orders an Uber, as he has to be home for the Emmerdale Farm 50th anniversary special. Apparently there's a big storm brewing. It's called Cain Dingle. I retire to the armchair and read late into the night a case study of The Shankill Butchers - obvs I toss and turn all night and have bad dreams.
It's Monday and I'm on the train to York to see my brother for a few days. We enjoy teatime scoops at Star in the City and one of York's finest hostelries, House of Trembling Madness. It has craft ales to die for. I'm like a kid in a sweet shop. I book the Tony Mac Friday Club Christmas Party in York for December 16th.
My bro and I spend a day walking up in Ripon at Fountains Abbey, a National Trust owned ruined Cistercian monastery. We lunch at the Sawley Arms where a 12oz gammon steak is polished off with a North Yorkshire pale ale. I arrive home in time to cut and scarify the lawn ahead of the incessant rain.
Thursday evening is spent in the Long Room at Trent Bridge Cricket Ground pavilion. I hook up with 'Drurs', who I shared a dressing room with at Keyworth Cricket Club. There are two speakers tonight. The first is a fascinating talk on other sports played at the cricket ground, which includes some touching anecdotes and crowd participation.
The second speaker is 'one of our own', 23 year-old all-rounder Liam Patterson-White, who, just today, has learnt of his call up to an England Lions training\ camp in the UAE. He's so engaging and talks openly. 'Drurs' asks Liam who is the fastest bowler he's ever faced. Notts' new signing Ollie Stone is the answer. We finish the night off at the Fox and Grapes in Sneinton. The 1961 murder of the landlord remains unsolved.
It hoses it down for most of Friday. The coast is clear at just gone 6 p.m. It's a no beer day today - I don't want to end up as a bitter and twisted member of the Ryan Yates Beer Goggle Brigade, who claim he shouldn't be 'anywhere near the first team' at NFFC, despite another POTM accolade.
I'm at one of Ryan's old clubs, Notts County, where that clown of an owner, at the time, Alan Hardy, bad-mouthed the Tricky Trees on social media during Yates' loan spell. It was catastrophic and Kamikaze from old motormouth- resulting in Yates being ordered back over the water and then being shipped out to Scunthorpe United. The rest is history. The oldest Football League Club in the world were confined to Conference Football, on Hardy's watch. Three managers in one season. What a palava.
The DJ is playing 'Friday I'm in Love' by The Cure, as I take my seat in the Derek Pavis Stand, accompanied by Keyworth United legend Alan Jackson. The NFFC DJ should take note of this, as I've caught him out playing 'Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting' on a Friday evening, Sunday lunchtime and a Monday night game.
A massive shout out to the 279 hardy souls from Maidstone who have made the 350 mile round trip in testing and trying conditions. Their team don't give them too much to cheer about, planting 11 men behind the ball. 'The Non League Haaland', Macaulay Langstaff, has already seen a goal chalked off and fresh-aired a sitter before he opens the scoring. The impressive Ruben Rodrigues nets a beauty before fluffing a spot kick. Cedwyn Scott puts the game to bed, helping manager Luke Williams rest up a few weary legs ahead of Tuesday's trip to Wealdstone. I notice that Lincoln City's chief scout is in attendance.
It's Saturday 11 a.m. and I'm standing outside Laguna Tandoori, on Mount Street with Faggsy and Kimberley Al. A car comes haring around the corner, 'Crazy Steve' is behind the wheel. Today folks, we're ticking off three Heritage pubs in the West Midlands and taking in Tividale v Radford, in a FA Vase cup tie. Thankfully 'Crazy' turns off Capital FM on the car radio; it's for the best.
'Crazy' weaves in and out of traffic on the A50 and A5 before we roll into the car park of the Manor Arms, in Rushall. The pub is a beauty and the landlady is dead friendly and engaging. We quaff a real ale, before stop number 2, the Horse and Jockey at Wednesbury. The red-bricked building looks lovely from the outside, but the interior is spoilt with tables from what looks like a works' canteen. Faggs, Crazy and Al are massive Pies fans. They nearly choke on their ale when NFFC take the lead against Liverpool.
Our final call is the Waggon and Horses in Oldbury, close to WBA's ground. The pub is a gem and a worthy entry in CAMRA Heritage Guide. The lads are bitterly disappointed (seething tbh) to see the Tricky Trees secure three points. One of them says there will be a open-top double decker bus parade around Nottingham City centre this evening. There will be a sigh of relief at Eva's Grill on Radcliffe Road. They've been stockpiling the fireworks since the win against West Ham back in August.
It's £7 on the gate at 'Tivvy.' A below strength Radford are caught napping in the opening minutes. They grow into the match and play a beautiful game with crowd favourite (and Sticky's) Joe Meakin pulling all the strings. They equalise near half time through Jordan Alls with Tivvy down to ten men, as the ref has sin-binned a player for mouthing-off.
Radford control the game for long periods in the second half, although Tivvy are dangerous on the turnaround. Alls sees an effort come back off the woodwork, Jebbison hits the rebound narrowly wide. Scott 'Tank' Lichfield looked to have grabbed a winner, drawing a fine save from the 'keeper.
The young referee has made a song and dance of everything. His game management is appalling. He takes an age to sort out the slightest kerfuffle. It's clear to all and sundry that he's out of his depth. A Radford player is sent off for a clear handball, what is unclear is whether it's in the penalty area or not. The player is shown a red card before the ref consults his assistant and points to the spot. His skin is saved and so is the penalty.
The Pheasants bow out of the Vase on penalties. They can't 'arf feel hard done by.
Player of the Match Joe Meakin
Thanks for driving 'Crazy', top navigating Fags and welcome to the blog 'Kimberley Al.'
1 comment:
Nice read Sheridan
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