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
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