Gedling Miners Welfare 1-2 Loughborough Students

I wake up on Sunday morning lathered in sweat and with a banging head. I've got a high temperature too. The day is written off as I sleep a virus off in bed. I'm gutted, as I'd looked forward to writing about the previous week's happenings. Only a bowl of piping hot chicken soup can cheer me up from my man flu.

Last week was a busy one folks. Tuesday evening was spent down Carlton Town's Stoke Lane ground. League leaders Belper Town were down our endz. I spent the first half standing with Dave 'Daisy' Reilly, who coached at junior level for Keyworth United in the mid noughties 'Daisy' is a casual groundhopper, as well as being a Bhoys (Celtic) supporter and closet Nottingham Forest fan - they're in the Premier League you know.

The Mighty Millers blow away Belper in a frantic, fast-paced first half. The visitors are lucky to be only 2-0 down at the break. I wander over to the far side of the ground to catch up with my good mate Faggsy, who is standing with Hull City fan, Malc Brown; a friend of the blog and father to Carlton Town legendary defender Dan Brown. We're all chuffed to bits with the first half display. 

The game is much tighter in the second half. Belper pull a goal back to set up a grandstand finish. But the Millers backline are magnificent and fully deserve their victory. They'll be dancing in the streets off Carlton Hill.

I rise early on Wednesday morning. I grab a coffee and a bacon sandwich at Greggs in Nottingham's Market Square. Crazy Steve picks me up just off Maid Marian way at 7.30 am. We head over south of the river Trent to the old mining town of Cotgrave, where I 'worked' at the coal mine for a couple of years in the late 80s, before Thatcher's pit closure programme.

We jump into Cotgrave Trev's car and head down the A46 towards Leicester, where we merge onto the M1 southbound. Within a couple of hours we're parked up at Canons Park train station, close to Barnet FC's ground, in North London.

After a couple of tube trains we alight at West Brompton station. The lads, including 'Little Al', enjoy paying their respects at Victoria Cross graves and memorials. The cemetery, in Brompton, has a dozen or so VC graves. It is also the final resting place of one of my favourite actors, Brian Glover, from the cult film, Kes. Glover, a former professional wrestler, also appeared in the popular 70s sitcom Porridge. 

Other graves in the cemetery that we visit include: British political activist Emmeline Pankhurst, who organised the UK suffragette movement, journalist and author Bernard Leven and John Wisden, cricketer and author, who launched the Wisden Cricketers' Almanack back in 1864.

It's a fantastic day out, as we tick off six CAMRA Heritage pubs in Covent Garden, Soho and Fitzrovia area of London. We polish off a meal at a Turkish restaurant, a stone's throw away from where the car is parked. On the way home we check our diaries and book in another trip for late January. I love my days out with these guys and Cotgrave Trev, a Posh fan (the football club and not Beckham's wife) is a legend for volunteering to drive.

I'm fagged out on Friday, but have already committed to a gig with Tony Mac at the Rescue Rooms in Nottingham. Ms Moon and I have some lunch at our new favourite haunt, Delilah, on Victoria Street. I note, for future reference, that the deli also sells bottles of Magpie Brewery beer and cans of Neon Raptor. I love it when a company has a partnership with another from our great city.

Storm Babet is coming through Nottingham today. I wander through the train station and gaze at the electronic timetable, as a number of trains are cancelled or delayed. Stranded passengers scratch their heads or express dismay. Tony Mac has the journey from hell as he finally tips up from Hucknall, a town submerged in flood water.

It's the usual bat around the backstreets, alleys and ginnels of Nottingham. We arrive at Rescue Rooms just shy of 8.30 pm. Shouty, issues-based left wing collective, Benefits, from up in the 'Northern Powerhouse' of Middlesbrough are centre-stage. Mac and I have watched them on seven occasions now. They're on top form despite some glitches in the early stages of the set.

After an early start and seven hour shift at the shop with MSR newsagent stalwart Dave 'Chippy' Fryer, I make my way down to Carlton Town's clash with Jamie Vardy's former club, Stocksbridge Steels, who are from South Yorkshire.

Casually Dan is playing his set as I poke my head in the clubhouse. The deadlock is yet to be broken at the break. The Millers are lacking the fluidity and energy that were in evidence on Tuesday evening. I stand behind the goal in the second half, with the cast of characters that I've introduced to this blog in the last 18 months. They always put a smile on my face and make me feel warm and happy.

Blog sensation, Edward, has rocked up today after mysteriously missing one of the great nights on Tuesday evening. He's looking fresh after a sharp haircut by 'Alison' at Hairline up on Mapperley Tops. We've both been in massive trouble on the fans' WhatsApp group for discussing soap operas, cricket and Strictly Come Dancing. I've recently returned to the group following a 14 day ban dished out by 'Chief Wiggum' and 'Herr Harlow' for discussing Angela Rippon's five star performance on Strictly. Edward came out in solidarity.

The news isn't all good. Malc's lad, Dan Brown, doesn't emerge from the dressing room for the second half due to a niggling knee injury, which may need an MRI scan to assess the damage. It ends a run of 71 consecutive games for Dan, who will be sorely missed until his return. 

We enjoy some banter, fun and laughter as on the pitch the young Millers are well schooled by an experienced Stocksbridge team, who run out 2-0 winners. It doesn't dampen my evening or affect my mood, as I sink a couple of pints with Faggsy in the wonderful Old Volunteer watering hole on Burton Road, a five minute walk away from Chez Palms. I am sad to hear that Manchester United great, Sir Bobby Charlton, passed away earlier today.

This week has been a quiet one as I recover from the lurgy. I work for three days on the bounce. Carlton Town's home game versus Stockton Town, scheduled for Tuesday evening, is called off at lunchtime, as the floods send the water table sky high. It's a blessing in disguise for Sticky Palms as I rest up and get ready for a big day out on Friday.

I'm sat on the 8.13 train to London St Pancras with Friday Club members Matt Limon and Tony Mac. The plan, later, is to meet up with 'Chopper Harris' and Steve Ackerman - my best friend from school. We have the misfortune to have breakfast at a place called the Betjeman Arms. Matt sends a flat beer back as we wait over 40 minutes for a full English. The place isn't exactly bustling with folk.

We have a blast as we dodge a few squally showers, whilst walking around Waterloo, Southwark and Borough Market. The star of the show is The George. You stand in a courtyard and get served in a hatch. It has two balconies that houses noisy weekend revellers.

We're a man down as Tony Mac does a Zorro at the Skinner Arms. I'm in my pit at midnight, but back up at 4 am to mark the papers up at the shop. I grab an hour on my return home before jumping into an Uber taxi that takes me up to Plains Rd for my fourth visit of the season.

Ms Moon comes to the rescue on the food front. She rocks up with a haslet cob and a caramel doughnut from Birds. I bump into 'Ticknall Terry' a big Students fan and also a keen watcher of 2nd XI and local cricket. I enjoy spending time with Terry when we watch Notts 2nds at Lady Bay Sports Ground.

The Students are 2-0 up and strolling to victory. The second goal came during a 10 minute sin bin for Miners' skipper Josh Thornton. They pull a goal back with a brilliant finish from Kieran Harrison. The stage is set for a grand finale finish. Striker Courtnay Hastings ruins the day by getting sent off after receiving a Red card for abusing the referee.

I manage to grab a chat with Chris Widdowson who I met on twitter. We grew up together just a mile apart and yet only met one another a few weeks ago. He's a keen craft ale enthusiast and a Non League fan too. It's been another great game and a lovely afternoon out. I can't 'arf pick 'em.

Man of the Match: Tony Mac

CD Marino 0-1 UD Tamaraceite

It's Friday 6th October and I'm in a car with Ms Moon, who is driving down London Road, Nottingham, in rush-hour traffic. Notts County's Meadow Lane ground is to our left. The Magpies have played there since the ground opened in 1910. I walked to 'The Lane' with Faggsy a few evenings ago for the Pies' League Two clash with Swindon Town. It was undoubtedly the best game of football I've seen this season; played at breakneck speed.

The show put on by Notts in the first 45 minutes was breathtaking and jaw-dropping. They blew away the visitors, or so it seemed, with three goals before the break. One, a deft chip over the 'keeper by the impressive David McGoldrick. The second was a penalty by Macaulay Langstaff - his 50th goal for the club. The third was fired home at the back stick with a first time volley by former Arsenal and Morecambe midfielder Dan Crowley.

I said to 'Our Joe' on socials at the break (he was sitting in the same stand) that Swindon's left wing back would be hooked - and so he was, as well as former Southampton and QPR striker Charlie Austin. The visitors pegged a goal back but continued to fluff their lines in front of goal on several occasions. Notts County ran out worthy winners. There was no time for a post-match beverage with Faggsy after the match, as us Media lads had an early start in the morning.

I say goodbye to Ms Moon in the car park of Castle Rock's Embankment pub. I sit in the Dispensary, called so because it was one of Jesse Boot's (the chemist) first ever pharmacies, that opened in 1907. It's a beautiful Grade II listed building that has Chesterfield leather armchairs dotted around the bar area. It's real ale and craft ale heaven.

I settle down in my chair as I quaff a pint of Friday Night, a New Zealand pale ale from the Magpie stable, that's brewed across the road in the Cattle Market area of town. I peer out of the window towards Trent Bridge where I notice a Ford Mondeo hurtling down the inside lane. The car driver takes a left hand turn into the pub car park. Its driver comes bursting through the door, roaring with laughter before shouting "Evening Hopper."

It's the 'Big Man' (Bish). It's a while since we've seen one another. Tea's on me. He mops up a rump steak and chips in no time. The reason for our rendezvous is that we have an early start in the morning - we're spending a week in Tenerife, the largest of the Canary Islands. We settle in for the evening, watching an excellent game of football between Birmingham City and WBA, before lights out and an early night.

Some headlights appear at the top of Spinney Road, in the village of Keyworth, at just shy of 5 am on Saturday morning. I'm usually marking newspapers up at this time of day. 'Chopper Harris' throws our luggage into the boot of his car.

Seven hours later Ryanair flight number FR3152 taxis the runway at Tenerife South airport. We breeze through passport control and pick up Chopper's luggage which has already appeared on the baggage carousel. The resort of Los Cristianos is a short drive away. We're stopping at a three bedroomed apartment on the Jardines de Canarios 'complex' close to the beach and local market. 

Like most folk we tend to go for it on the first night. The three of us came for 9 nights last November during the World Cup in Qatar. Memories of England wins versus Wales and Senegal are blurry and faded. We have a spot of tea at a refurbished bar at the back of Los Cris' called Chicago's - it was previously named Manhattan's Cocktail Lounge before a revamp under new ownership.

Crystal Palace v Nottingham Forest is the 5.30 pm kick off. It's as dull as dishwater folks. Missed opportunities see Forest fans feeling a wee bit disappointed that it's only one point they will be taking back north up the M1. I'm spitting feathers that the game ends 0-0 - as I don't do them folks. If Hodgson's Palace were playing in my back garden I'd shut the curtains.

'The Reef' has been experiencing some extreme weather of late. Temperatures reached the late 30's in the few days before our arrival. It's already hit 35 degrees Celsius as the Big Man and I wander towards the resort of Playa de las Americas where Wales fans, in their daft bucket hats, had a dust up with the Three Lions lads during the World Cup.

We're both gasping for air as we both part with 8 Euros each at the Estadio Antonio Dominguez Alfonso ticket office, home to the mighty CD Marino who play in Division 13 of the Canary Islands League. It's a multi-purpose stadium at the back end of 'Playas' across the road from the KN Columbus Hotel - a crowd favourite of the Big Man's.

I normally partake in a couple of pints of the local beer at the game. Such is the heat and humidity, that it would be foolish to do so today. Added to the tricky conditions is a strong wind too. The standard ain't the best - probably equivalent to Step 5 in the English U.K. Pyramid system. The Tarmac running track plus my dodgy 'mince pie' means you need a pair of binoculars to gain a decent view.

The game is the usual Spanish comedy gold. The Marino 9 jacket hits a toe-stubber of a penalty at the visiting 'keeper. UD Tamaraceite, from Las Palmas, Gran Canaria, take all three points following some sloppy defending by Marino. I spot later in the day that 10 men CD Tenerife won 2-1 in the Segunda League. They currently top the table and could be playing the likes of Real Madrid and Barcelona if their good form continues. I took the lads up to Santa Cruz last season to watch CD Tenerife. Unfortunately we were all deathly white and nursing the worst hangovers known to man following the 3-0 demolition of Wales the night before. Not a drop of alcohol passed our lips that day - a first for 'Chopper Harris.'

The whole of Monday is spent on a sun-lounger at the local beach following a hearty breakfast at The Vault, which not only plays cool indie tunes, but also has a well stocked craft beer fridge. I've brought a couple of books with me, one of which is called 'The Full English' written by the esteemed travel writer and broadcaster Stuart Maconie. The author re-enacts the 1933 book, An English Journey written by Bradford author J.B.Priestley. I get so enthralled with Maconie's own journey that I end up getting sun-burnt on my chest despite sitting under an umbrella for most of the day - I told you it was hot.

The following day 'Chopper' and I wander 6 miles up the coast, walking up and over Costa Adeje and onto the harbour village of La Caleta. We sit in a restaurant, with the sun glistening on the Atlantic Ocean, whilst sharing three plates of tapas and a carafe of wine. It's approaching 38 degrees as we jump into a taxi after lunch. Chopper and I laugh at the irony, in the cab, with the air con blasting out, as the radio DJ plays David Essex's 1983 hit 'A Winter's Tale.'

It's Thursday evening and we're sat in Taylor's Sports Bar at the back of Los Cris. The referee is blowing his whistle for kick-off in Seville, as Spain play Scotland in a European Championship qualifier. The place is mobbed out with nervous, twitchy Scots. They currently top the group with a 100% record. It all ends in tears when a Scott McTominay 'goal' is ruled out after a VAR check. Spain score two late goals to break some hearts and keep the group alive.

The holiday comes to an end. We've enjoyed some great meals at Restaurante Fortuna, Mint of India and Tai-Pan - all recommended if you are ever holidaying in Tenerife. There have been a few comedy moments with the Big Man missing a night out after overlaying due to a lunchtime vodka binge. The lads made it out to The Dubliner (I didn't). As I approach my 60th birthday I mak e the sensible decision (boring) to retire to the Big Ben pub, adjacent to our complex, to read my book. How times have changed from 5 years ago when I have no recollection of leaving The Dubliner after a Super Sunday session. 

I can't 'arf pick 'em.

Attendance: 3

Men of the Match: Big Man and 'Chopper Harris.' 

 

Gedling Miners Welfare 1-2 Bourne Town

 

I'm strolling up Plain Roads towards Mapperley Tops. I wear a broad smile on my face, as I think back to just five minutes ago, when a Kieran 'Kizza' Harrison wonder strike, from 60 yards out, put Gedling Miners Welfare into the next round of the FA Vase.

I sit on a settee in the cosy Bread and Bitter pub, and quaff a delicious pint of 'Golden Fields of Green' from Pentrich Brewing Co, based in Amber Valley, Derbyshire. I engage in some small talk with a young guy sitting next to me. He's babysitting a British Bulldog, who is salivating over a bag of pork scratchings that are sat in the palm of my hand.

The lad I'm chatting to originates from West Bridgford, but now lives in London. Turns out he's a music producer who goes by the name of 'Son of Philip.' He has had his music showcased on 6 Music's Mary Anne Hobbs show. He also lets it slip that he is going on the road with the 80s synth-pop band Blancmange. You may remember their hit 'Living on the Ceiling' or the brilliant cover version of Abba's 'The Day Before You Came.'

I arrive home in time to catch Ms Moon watching Season 19 of Strictly Come Dancing. Former BBC newsreader Angela Rippon looks light on her feet. I confess to Ms Moon that I had a crush on Rippon as a teenager. I'm banished to the kitchen and told to get the supper on.

I laze around for most of the day on Sunday. I can't be tempted out of my armchair by an advert on the BeerHeadZ facebook page, saying they have just put on a 15% IPA beer called Ladon from Tartarus. That boozy 'Dirty Leeds' bad boy would have seen an early finish to the day for Sticky Palms.

Tuesday evening is spent once again at Gedling Miners Welfare. Clifton All Whites are tonight's visitors. It's a club that I have a strong affinity with. I see a little bald fellow picking up some bibs and cones after finishing off a drill. It's blog legend James 'Tosh' Turner. We enjoy a catch up before he races to the dressing room for the pre-match talk.

I stand with Faggsy, 'Murph' and Steve Mack as the Clifton young guns give Gedling the runaround. To a man they are magnificent and very pleasing on the eye, The final scoreline of 4-1 in the visitors favour flatters the Miners. They have been well and truly dusted.

It's Wednesday morning and I'm already up and over Carlton Hill at just gone 9 am. I loiter on the corner of Lancaster Road as I wait for Faggsy. We walk a further 3 miles through the eastern side of the city which is undergoing huge regeneration. We drop onto the canal which runs adjacent to the London Road with its noisy traffic.

It's Day 2 of a four day County Championship fixture between Nottinghamshire and Middlesex. Yesterday's play was rain affected. I was working at the shop, so was unable to attend. We sit behind the bowler's arm in the Lower Radcliffe Road End. Notts County fans 'Kimberley Al', 'Tomo' and 'Seadog Paul' are sat with us.

I stroll across the road at lunchtime to grab a roll from Mrs Bunns Cob Emporium. I sit in the West Bridgford War Memorial Garden. It's serene and tranquil. The peace and quiet is shattered by the arrival of 'Crazy Steve' whose breaking news includes zero stock levels of oxtail soup and haslet at Mrs Bunns.

Middlesex are all out for 366. There's a presentation at tea for Notts stalwarts Samit Patel and Jake Ball who are set to leave the club at the end of the season after a long period of service. It's quite a moving moment with families of both players in floods of tears. Faggsy and I call into The Embankment and Fox and Grapes on our journey home back to Carlton.

Corrie is on the TV set as I slide back the French window patio door. I play on my phone as I hunt for a fixture at the weekend. Regular readers will know that I lived in the village of Keyworth for 45 years. I coached at the local football club for 10 years, as well as following the first team when it had respected managers such as Arthur Oldham and Dave Fisk.

A dark cloud that has hung over the club (KUFC) for the last few seasons has blown a few miles north. Keyworth people, who understand the club and embrace a valuable, envied youth policy, now run the senior set up. 24 players (sheep) have exited the club. They've only managed a measly 6x wins out of 24 games, between them, at pastures new. I was blocked on the club's twitter page (a few seasons back after a sesh in Bournemouth) for calling the first team 'Radford Ressies' - as Management looked to buy the League. The entourage said "we're here to win pots." The trophy cabinet is still laid bare and gathering dust. Good luck to Ross Frame and Chris Thompson as they look to rebuild the club. Up the Green Army.

It's deja vu for the next few days as the County Cricket season draws to a close. It's something I struggle to come to terms with as I love my time down 'The Bridge' and enjoy the company of the folk I sit with. Crazy Steve tips me the wink that pork cobs with stuffing, crackling and apple sauce are on a special offer at Birds Bakery on The Avenue. My tooth aches for most of the afternoon after chomping on the crackling.

There's another presentation on Friday lunchtime and another goodbye too. Stuart Broad has retired from the game. To honour him the club announce that the Pavilion End is to be renamed the 'Stuart Broad End.' The game looks to be petering out. Middlesex have to win to avoid relegation. Notts are set 206 to win off 60 overs. It should be a formality.

Two hours later we are all basking in the sunshine biting our fingernails - Notts are tied up in knots. They have collapsed from 106-2 to 157-7. There's further bad news incoming: I'm meant to be meeting Ms Moon for Friday Club in Lillie Langtry's in town, for 6 pm. I'll definitely be late for that. You couldn't write the script as Jake Ball hits the winning runs in his final game for the club. A little tear rolls down my eye as I exit the ground for the last time this season.

I jump off a Nottingham City Transport bus on Beastmarket Hill, in the city centre, as the Council House clock strikes six bells. I wander up Market Street, where the record shop Selectadisc once had two stores. I cross over the road near to the Theatre Royal. Thank the Lord that Ms Moon is late due to a no show from the Carlton 27 bus. I shout up a pint of Tribute pale ale from the St Austell Brewery, in Cornwall. Lillie's is one of my favourite pubs. It has proper Nottingham folk in it and the music played is often classic tunes from the late 60s, 70s and 80s.

After a couple of drinks Ms Moon and I wander along Upper Parliament Street, another bloody eyesore that is in desperate need of some tender loving care. I've booked a table for two at Casa Italian and Seafood Restaurant. I enjoy a fish stew and a couple of glasses of Merlot. Ms Moon goes down the pasta route which is washed down with a couple of glasses of bubbles.

I only work a few hours at the newsagent on Saturday morning. A trip to Lincoln City is ruled out due to Mick Lynch's lads downing their rail tools for the day. Carlton are away up at Hebburn Town, which lies only a few miles south of the river Tyne. It's to be Gedling Miners Welfare for the third time in eight days.

I dive into Deli-icious. They are about to close and don't have much snap left. The lady behind the counter knocks me up a cob with salami, Swiss cheese, French Brie and mayo on it. The weather is miserable as drizzle sets in. 

I stand with Faggsy on the halfway line. We both saw the visitors Bourne Town put in a poor shift at Radford a few weeks back. The Miners deservedly take the lead through a fine goal by 'Kizza' again. Bourne Town are off the pace and short of ideas.

We sit in the bar at half-time as the bad weather is setting in and there is a dampness in the air. Gedling pay the price for missing gilt-edged chances. Two goals in the final five minutes see the visitors to an unlikely victory. I finally get to meet Chris Widdowson, who I have followed on twitter and the untappd beer app for years. He's gutted that the Miners got sucker-punched at the death.

Man of the Match: Ross McCaughey

Attendance: 96