The unbeaten run comes to an end. The visitors, North Ferriby F.C. have won 2-1. We're all dead mardy in the clubhouse afterwards. At least it shows we give two hoots. Tucking into some leftover sandwiches doesn't lift the mood. 'Casually Dan' packs his records away. His final track is 'Nightshift' by The Commodores.
It's Bank Holiday Monday and I need cheering up. 'Crazy Steve' is someone who always puts a smile on my face. He has the energy of an 18 year old. He picks me up at the usual spot, just off Maid Marian Way. We drive south of the river to pick up Little Al at the Trent Bridge Inn. The little 'un has just mopped up an all day 'Spoons breakfast.
We cross Lady Bay Bridge and head up the Colwick Loop Road, passing Nottingham Racecourse and the Greyhound Stadium. Southwell City's new ground is in the hamlet of Brinkley, a mile away from the minster town. 'Big Grumpy Glenn' is in the building with Radford F.C.
We grab a pint at the Bromley Arms in Fiskerton. It sits on the River Trent and reminds me of happy times in my life when I would lunch with Mum and Dad before a race meeting at Southwell Racecourse. Ms Moon and I must take a train journey out there and walk off a lunch down the banks of the Trent.
It's £5 on the gate which includes a free programme. The DJ setlist has been published in the programme. 'Do Nothing' by The Specials is the pick out track. Southwell lack experience and knowhow; they are muscled out and played off the park by The Pheasants. 5-1 is the final score. Paul Johnson, a recent signing from Borrowash Victoria, catches my eye.
It's Tuesday morning and I'm loitering on Platform 6B, at my second home, Nottingham Railway Station. I alight at Manchester Piccadilly before boarding a Northern train to Blackpool: destination is the town of Bolton. I fancied the idea of a northern road trip. The second round draw of the League Cup has thrown up some interesting ties and tickets are easy to get hold of.
I tick off a couple of average CAMRA pubs in the town centre before taking a stroll around some of the tourist attractions. They are proud of their own up here. There's a statue of steeplejack Fred Dibnah and a gold post box commemorating double Olympic Gold medal winner Jason Kenny. I asked a local policeman where the post box was. He said he'd never heard of Kenny.
I've treated myself to a night's stay at the Bolton Stadium Radisson Hotel. I check-in, throw my rucksack into the room and take a customary full circuit walk around the perimeter of the ground. There's a statue of legendary centre forward Nat Lofthouse who scored 255 goals in 452 appearances for Wanderers.
I'm fleeced of £6 for the smallest meat and potato pasty and a bottle of water at the kiosk. I sit at the top of the lower tier in the East Stand. 'Starlight' from French electronic musician Supermen Lovers is booming out of the stadium pa system.
Michael Carrick's Middlesbrough arrive on the back of a miserable run. They fall behind to a Dion Charles close range strike. Parity is restored through Matt Crooks on the half hour. 2,867 'Boro fans have made the 200 mile round trip across from the north east. They are treated to a masterclass of total football in the second half. It's incredible that it takes two late strikes from the Australian Riley McGree and former Imp loanee Morgan Rogers, to wrap up the game. I'm tucked up in bed 10 minutes after the final whistle.
I devour a monster breakfast before disembarking a train at Salford Crescent. 25 minutes seems a long time to wait for the connection to Swinton. I decide, with the weather brightening up, to make the 45 minute walk to St John's Church in Pendlebury.
It's my penultimate visit to a Busby Babe grave and this tale is one the saddest of them all. 25 year old Geoff Bent only made the trip to Yugoslavia, for the European Cup tie versus Red Star Belgrade, as cover for any injured players. He and 22 other passengers perished in the Munich Air Disaster, on February 6th, 1958. The grass in the graveyard is overgrown. A Manchester United scarve is draped around the gravestone.
The walk up to Swinton railway station is solemn and somber as I reflect on how England will have mourned during that heartbreaking period of time. I step off the train at Manchester Victoria and wander up to Manchester Cathedral. I sit in the 'Glade of Light', a memorial garden that remembers the lives of 22 concertgoers and their families who died in a terrorist attack in May 2017.
I lift my spirits by parting with £14 at the National Football Museum. It's a fantastic customer experience that brings back a lot of memories in my nigh on 60 years of watching the beautiful game. I gaze at L.S. Lowry's 'Going to the Match.' The PFA recently sold this painting to the Lowry Arts Centre for £7.8 million.
I manage a quick scoop in the Piccadilly Tap before boarding a train to Sheffield. Tony Mac has tipped me the wink of a CAMRA pub up in the hills of a suburb called Heeley. By chance I stroll past a craft ale tap house called Triple Point Brewery, where I've been before on a Jolly Boys outing. I take advantage by charging my phone up, whilst downing a few ales and tucking into some tea.
The Sheaf View, a 19th Century pub in Heeley, is well worth the visit, even though I'm fagged out on my arrival. I neck a NEIPA called Kushtaka from Neepsend Brewery. I then dawdle back down the hill towards Bramall Lane.
'The Lincoln' have been on flames since an opening day 3-0 reverse at Bolton, of all places. The Blades have yet to taste victory. The music played by the PA announcer is bloody awful. The game isn't entertaining either, although the Imps are easy on the eye. Neither team look likely to break the deadlock.
It's a year since I saw Lincoln win on penalties, up at Holker Street in Barrow. Our goalkeeper is 6ft 7". I fancy our chances. John Egan balloons United's final penalty over the bar. I make a hasty exit before I get rumbled, as once again I've seen City win whilst sat with the opposition fans, plus I'm also wearing some Nottinghamshire County Cricket Club clobber. I'm in such a rush that I leave my belongings under my seat.
It's Thursday morning. A bleary-eyed Sticky Palms is on the phone to a friendly receptionist at Sheffield United FC. My rucksack has been tracked down. I'll catch another train next week to pick it up and revisit Heeley where there are a couple more pubs to tick off.
Ms Moon and I have a lunch to die for at Deliah, an independent fine food delicatessen, that is housed in an old banking hall, close to Nottingham's old Market Square. We dine upstairs as we enjoy the ambience and hum of the place. A new rucksack and atlas are bagged before catching the bus home.
It's 4 a.m. on Saturday. I'm overheating and coughing. An UBER driver picks me up and drops me off at the newsagent where I work in Arnold. I love my job and the folk I work with and meet, but today I'm not feeling it. My bed is calling me.
'Casually Dan' confirms we're departing just before 1 pm for Nuneaton. Had he not I would have been confined to bed for the rest of the day. It's an FA Cup 1st qualifying round tie. Hopefully the Mighty Millers put on a show. They bounced back from defeat by cantering to a 3-1 victory up at Grimsby Borough. Nigel also won his second consecutive away meat raffle. Joey, our mascot, didn't get a sniff again.
Dan says there are rumours that the rapper Dizzee Rascal is playing an improtu pop up lunchtime gig at the skate park in St Edward's Park, in inner city Sneinton. There's a few folk gathered in there, and a stage set up, as we drive by.
The Carlton faithful are congregated at the Acorn pub, a few miles away from Liberty Way, Nuneaton's ground. It's £14 pay in on the gate. Dan's daughter, Lily, aged nearly seven, has made the trip too. She's back at school next week so has been practising her arithmetic in the car - I christen her 'The Carlton Carol Vorderman.' Diehard NFFC and Millers fan, Jason Simpkins, announces breaking news that he has a large sty on his eye.
'Ring of Fire', by Johnny Cash booms around the ground. Only 300 plus supporters have bothered to turn up as the Nuneaton fans vote with their feet, during a miserable run of form. It's a horrible start for them and a giant-killing is on the cards, when a Lewis 'Drongo' Durow cross is headed home by the excellent Khyle Sargent. David Adegbola smells blood, he inflicts further pain and misery with a second goal after chasing a lost cause, forcing a faux pas from the 'Boro 'keeper.
I'm sat with my great friends Jon and Edward. We roar with laughter when the Head Steward races down the concourse to remonstrate with an official. Manager Jimmy Ginnelly and his dislikeable assistant look like a bulldog chewing on a wasp. Nuneaton peg a goal back in 7 minutes of 'mystery time' added on.
It's back to the wall for the boys in the second half. Former Bristol City forward Leroy Lita fluffs his lines from the penalty spot and Jamie Ward continues to bleat and moan like a spoilt child. Carlton's young side have heart, soul and courage. Lily doesn't seems too perturbed as she does a few somersaults on a crash barrier.The second half lasts an age. Dan and I know how the football gods can work. In the dying embers of the game, the magnificent Dan Brown somehow makes a last ditch clearance off the line.
There are emotional scenes at the final whistle. The turnaround at this club has been nothing short of staggering after an unsettling period last season. The management, coaching team, backroom staff and players deservedly take all the plaudits.
Man of the Match: Nat Lofthouse
Attendance: 352
Credit Lou Lardi for main photo. Thanks Lou.
You were lucky Nuneaton were even worse than usual - if they played their normal game you'd probably have beat them in a replay.
ReplyDeleteAssumed you'd be there but I didn't spot you - you're far easier to spot when you've got Trumpy Bolton in tow!