Kimberley Miners Welfare 0-2 Lincoln United

It has proved a bridge too far for Angela Rippon on Strictly Come Dancing at the Blackpool Tower Ballroom. Ms Moon has been calling it for weeks. Let's be clear on this folks, Rippon is a one trick pony. That high-kick manoeuvre, where she lifts her leg in the air, famously shown on the Morecambe and Wise Christmas Special in 1984, isn't so pleasing on the eye these days. I've had 50p on the lass from Corrie to win it. She's bound to have been to dance school on her journey from being a young actress. 4/11 on, are the best odds I can find.

Sunday evening is like pulling teeth; and trust me my back molar is decaying by the day. 'We've' already had to suffer Four in a Bed, Undercover Boss and the 'Strictly Results.' I hear the jungle drum theme tune at bang on nine bells. That bloody awful programme with its Zzzzz-list celebrities and boring, predictable Geordie presenters, is to be aired on ITV for the next three weeks. 

I'm sulking in bed whilst that wack TV show is on. I listen to the final two episodes of the brilliant BBC Sport podcast called 'Nothing Will be the Same.' As mentioned last week, it's a fly-on-the-wall, behind the scenes documentary on the last 18 months' happenings at Everton's Goodison Park.

Sean Dyche and Director of Football, Kevin Thelwell, feature heavily at the fag end of the podcast. Thelwell gives a brilliant insight into the jigsaw puzzle of how a club recruits and the pecking order that comes with this. Dyche is bloody magnificent. I love the way he drills down into how their talismanic,  injury prone striker, Dominic Calvert-Lewin, keeps on breaking down. Dyche says they've even looked at the mattress he sleeps on and the car he drives, to see if this could be the root cause. There's a jaw-dropping quote from 'Big Sean' "I was at Burnley nearly 10 years and have probably got a book in me. I've been at Everton for four months and could probably write three.

It's Tuesday evening and the pain in my tooth is still dulling and aching. Talking about cry babies, Sam Dingle in Emmerdale Farm is shedding a few tears. I mention to Ms Moon that in real life the actor is from Nottingham and what's he bellyaching for. Things are great in our county: NFFC are in the Prem, U Pies are playing sexy football and the Stags remain unbeaten in League Two. Ms Moon says that Emmerdale is real life and that this scene in the soap is a very sensitive subject. She says the only person who is crying is Sticky because tonight's game between the Mighty Millers and Stockton Town has been waterlogged off.

I'm on the phone to Treeline Dental Care, in Keyworth. I can't stand the pain anymore. The lady on reception very kindly shoehorns me in for an emergency appointment. I'd feared the worst and the X-ray confirms this. At tooth hurty it's a molar extraction. After four numbing injections and 15 minutes of twisting, turning and cracking, the offending member drops onto the surgery floor. I decline an offer to keep the decay-riddled, rotten, black fang.

Whilst I'm on my old manor of Keyworth, I take a stroll up one of the village's oldest streets. It leads me to a 350 year old pub called The Salutation. One of my best friends, Paul Keeling, has recently taken over the running of the pub, with his partner Tracy. It's been shut for time but has recently had a £300,000 refurbishment. I book a table for 9th December, when my good mate 'Babs' is over from Spain.

It's Christmas haircut time on Thursday morning. I jump off the Carlton 27 bus, opposite the Fox and Grapes in Sneinton. The best barber in inner city Nottingham is located on Bath Street. The man with the scissors in his hands is from Bosnia and is called Eko. He has won more awards than Vidal Sasoon.

Thirty minutes later a bright-eyed but less than bushy-tailed Sticky, with ears lowered, is pounding the streets of Nottingham. I wander past the embarrassing Nottingham Christmas Market, with its tacky stalls. Remember when Nottingham City Council allowed the market to open during the height of COVID restrictions, only for it to be closed down eight hours later?

I admire the wonderful old Debenhams building, on Long Row, which is now sadly derelict, before shooting up Castle Gate and back round into the city centre via Hounds Gate. I look upwards all the time at the stunning architecture that our fantastic city is so proud of.

I meet 'The Taxman' for lunch. We take a steady walk up the banks of the Trent towards the village of Wilford. We've not been to football together for ages due to us both suffering from poor health. I no longer have a car and have taken the decision to never drive again, much to the relief of the road users, particularly the Deliveroo cyclists of this shire, who to this day, even as a pedestrian, I try to knock off their bikes, given the opportunity.

I call by a Lincoln Green pub called The Brickyard on the top of Carlton Hill. There's a man sitting with his dog and another guy reading a book. A bloke walks into the bar and asks for six bottles of wine. The landlord explains that they are £15 each. My ears prick up as you can get a bottle for £7 across the road at Tesco Express. The guy hands over £90 which the barman puts in the till. He then changes his mind and asks for a refund. The money is handed back, but the guy claims that he's only been given £60. It's clearly a scam and a 20 minute stand-off ensues. To be honest I'm up for a scrap and so is the man and the dog. Thankfully the scammer does a runner once the threat of a call to rozzers is made.

It's Friday lunchtime and I'm walking down Burton Road towards Carlton Town FC. It's a crisp winter's day with crystal clear blue skies. It's the Millers' Christmas Luncheon which is being hosted by club chairman Mick Garton (my boss). The guest speaker is former Nottingham Forest 'keeper Mark Crossley.

I've been kindly invited by Jon Gilbert, a club sponsor from Gilbert Wealth Management. Coincidentally, Jon was in the same year at school as Ms Moon at Bread 'n Lard Comprehensive. 'Big Norm' is on stage at 3.30pm. The captivated audience have been on the sauce since 1pm. As well as making over 300 appearances for the Tricky Trees, Crossley was also capped 8 times for Wales.

I've heard most of the stories before, they include: the Wimbledon ghetto blaster, Barbara Clough's kettle and Big Norm playing Sunday pub football for Simon Clough's team in D***y. He mentions his debut v Liverpool in 1988 and his second game away at Newcastle. I was at the latter game. When Newcastle fans go on about being a big club, just remember that only 13,000 bothered to turn up at St James' Park that day. Mark Crossley tells a fantastic yarn. A fun-filled hour passes by in the blink of an eye.

Day falls into night and gets really messy, as we end up at Dr Who's son's pub, tucked away at the back of Sneinton Market, called the Bath Inn. Tom Baker's lad is the landlord. Amy Winehouse's Back to Black is played in full on the dukey. The group I'm in has a few Notts County fans, whose lads are in the club's academy system. It's that decision time of season when pro deals are awarded. I used to be head of recruitment at the club's academy when they were top end League One - so understand their angst at this time of year.

I feel a tad fragile as I pull back the duvet late on Saturday morning. I've ummed and ahhed on where to go to watch football today as Ms Moon is away in Brighton visiting her brother for a few days. I was thinking about watching Wayne Rooney's Birmingham City versus rock bottom Sheff Wed, but canned that idea when Tony Mac and I decided to have a 24 hour pub run next Friday and Sat in Brum.

Mr and Mrs John Harris have said they will be in attendance at Kimberley MW v Lincoln United today and it's over a year since I've seen them. I head into town and nearly get mown down by a couple of electric scooters on a zebra crossing (adds them to the hit list) before jumping on a Number 1 bus up to Ripley. 

I've been recommended Olde English Chippy - known locally as 'Linda's.' I order up a 'Fish Special' that doesn't disappoint. Word up is that customers were queuing out of the door onto the street for four hours last night. One of the ladies said she received a standing ovation at the local pub at the end of her shift at 10pm.

I stand and stare in awe at one of the UK's great war memorials. As I read the names of the fallen, my spine tingles and my stomach wrenches. One of Kimberley's own, Jack Bamford, became the youngest ever recipient of the George Cross in 1953, after saving his two brothers in a house fire. He passed away last month at the age of 86 years old.

There's an emotional moment in Roots micropub when John Harris and wife Jackie present me with a packet of haslet from Birds, after a shopping trip to D***y this morning. What a lovely touch. It's freezing cold at the game. High flying Lincoln look in the mood to continue their good form. Dan Cotton gives them the lead after a catalogue of errors in the Kimbo penalty box.The match-defining moment happens after Kimbo are awarded a penalty. Aaron Coyle scuffs his kick, 'keeper Jack Steggles gets down well and makes a great save as well as blocking a rebound. It's not Coyle's day. In the second half he fizzes a shot from distance that beats Steggles all ends up, only to see it cannon off the upright.

The impressive Cotton puts the game to bed, but the visitors still have to rely on some acrobatics from ex Miller Steggles before the ref blows the final whistle. It's great to catch up with people like Danny Staley and Steve Hobster who are the heart, soul and lifeline of the club.

Attendance:

People of the Match: Jack Steggles and Mr John Harris and wife Jackie.

Carlton Town 3-0 Brighouse Town AFC

Faggsy, Ms Moon and I exit Gedling Miners Welfare Plains Road ground, after witnessing a breathtaking six goal thriller, which ends with honours even. We chew the cud over a couple of pints of real ale at the Woodthorpe Top. 

I return home to a slow cooker chilli con carne with dark chocolate, which I knocked up earlier on today. Ms Moon is as happy as Larry as she watches Pointless, Strictly and Blankety Blank. I join in, when I can tear myself away from checking all the Non League results online.

My working hours have now changed. I no longer work on Saturdays, which will give me the opportunity to travel further (north) for games by train, as we have sold the car. This means a 4:am alarm call on a Sunday morning and a 5:am start at the newsagents in Arnold.

Wednesday is the start of my four days off. I Mr Sheen blast the house as Ms Moon takes her granddaughter, Bonnie, to the play park at Colwick. I spend the rest of the day studying the CAMRA Heritage Pub Guide, in anticipation and with a feeling of excitement of planned days out in London and Leeds. I've also listened to the brilliant BBC podcast 'Nothing Will be the Same', which is narrated by Mark Chapman. It's behind the scenes at Goodison Park during the Lampard reign and the early days of Sean Dyche. Big Sean makes it a must-listen documentary, as does his engaging assistant Ian Woan.

East Midlands Railway try their best to muck up my day out on Thursday. I bag a cheaper ticket, but have to change trains at Long Eaton. There is a six minute waiting time. Unfortunately (for me) the buffoons cock up as we arrive a full six minutes late. I make a dash to the opposite side of track to catch the connecting train. Luckily, EMR’s incompetence works in my favour, as this train is also late.

I alight at St Pancras and make my way towards King’s Cross, where my brother and I are to have breakfast at place called Morty and Bob’s, in a swanky place called Coal Drops Yard. The full English is hoovered up in no time. We jump on a tube up to Kilburn. The idea was to tick off the Black Lion on the High Street, but the place is plunged in darkness, as it’s not due open until 4 pm. We decide to stretch our legs by walking up to the Maida Vale area of the city. It has elegant Victorian housing and Little Venice waterway. 

We stroll up to the Maida Vale recording studios where bands such as The Clash did sessions for the John Peel Show. We also spot a blue plaque commemorating the birthplace of the famous mathematician and scientist, Alan Turing, who is also well known for cracking the Enigma Code in the Second World War. Benedict Cumberpatch plays the role of Turing in an excellent film called The Imitation Game.

We tick off three CAMRA pubs in the area before shooting up to Notting Hill and then Baker Street. A further two historical boozers, including Scottish Stores, are paid a visit in the Kings Cross area. I arrive home at 10.30 having walked 10 miles and drank 8 halves of southern dirty dishwater. Whilst the beer is piss poor, the Grade II listed buildings are a thing of beauty.

There’s no time to rest on my laurels or bask in the glory of a wonderful day out down ‘the Smoke, yesterday. Ms Moon and I are about to hit the north for an overnight stay.

We’ve not been to Leeds since COVID. I bagged a good deal through Booking.Com at the Radisson Blu, in the heart of the city centre. The Northern train pulls into Leeds Station at just gone midday. We take a wander around, admiring the wide range of architectural styles of notable buildings. Granary Wharf is stunning, with its cobbled bridges and working waterway.

I'm on my best behaviour today, as I have a few trips lined up before the end of the year. We dine at Browns restaurant, which ironically is located next door to our hotel. Like a lot of their buildings, it's housed in a former banking hall. A three course lunchtime deal is a steal at £21 per person. We spend another hour walking off the meal before checking-in.

Whilst Ms Moon has some rest and relaxation, Sticky Palms pounds the streets hunting down a couple of CAMRA pub entries that I've yet to visit. The Bankers Cat, on Boar Lane, is part of the Thornbridge Co Estate. I enjoy a hazy pale ale called Galaxy and Simcoe. I manage to squeeze in another pub called Duck and Drake which has 16 cask ales available and is also a live music venue.

Ms Moon and I have an enjoyable evening with all the other weekend revellers. We arrive back at the hotel to find the bar is still open. It is then that a 'Gincident' happens. I order up a Hendricks. It arrives minus a slice of cucumber - a big no no in the world of gin-drinking. Regular readers will be aware that bad news doesn't go down well with Sticky, particularly after four pints of real ale and three large Tanquerays. Aghast, I complain to the barman who says he will have to check in the storeroom for some cucumber.  He's gone that long that I thought, for a moment, the said room was in neighbouring Lancashire. To add injury to insult the tonic water is flat too.

Back in the room Ms Moon is flicking around the TV channels. I wish she hadn't, as the good lady chances upon the final scene of Shane Meadows' dark psychological thriller, Dead Man's Shoes. 'Richard' played by Paddy Considine, one by one rounds up a group of drug dealers who tortured his mentally-impaired brother Anthony. He forces the ringleader to plunge a knife into his heart. 

We're back in Nottingham for Saturday lunchtime. The train journey was long and drawn out. but not without incident, when a revenue protection officer caught a couple of fare dodgers red-handed, who were sat close by. Ms Moon says it's probably not the right time for me to play the chorus of 'Cry Me a River' by Justin Timberlake on my phone as the statutory penalty notice fines are being issued to perpetrators.

I'm in the clubhouse at Carlton Town's Stoke Lane ground by 2.15pm. Chairman, Mick Garton, is introducing former Notts and Leicestershire fast bowler, David Milnes to a standing room only audience. Milnes is now an international umpire, so he has a number of amusing and witty anecdotes. 

He was discovered in a 'Find a Fast Bowler' trial held at Trent Bridge on 12th June, 1984. The reason I know that date was because me and my mate Rick Heeley were there too. We watched the second half of the European Championship final between France and Spain in the Trent Bridge Squash Club after an unsuccessful trial. Richard Hadlee was the judge. He was particularly grumpy that evening. I ask Milnes who is the fastest bowler he has seen from his end. He replies that it would probably be Tymal Mills or Mark Wood.

I visit the club shop where birthday boy, Jon Hartstone, and Ken are manning the fort. I purchase a Millers beanie hat for £10. Manager Tommy Brookbanks will be looking for a reaction after last weekend's drubbing up at Ashington in the north east. Main striker Alex Hardwick is suspended after a stupid red card in that said game.

There's not much happening in the opening exchanges. The young Millers grow into the game, looking particularly strong down the left hand side where Durow and Hylton enjoy a good understanding. 'Casually Dan' spins some classic 45s at the break, including the 1984 hit 'Rip it Up' by Glaswegian post-punk band Orange Juice. Dan's daughter, 7 year old Lily, is still miffed with last weekend's lacklustre performance. It's a no show from Lily in the home end as she prefers to crayon-in her colouring book.

Blog favourite Edward has turned up all flustered after a busy morning of shopping, attending engagements and another fresh-look trim, styled by Alison up on Mapp Tops. He's also been clocked sneaking out of the sponsors lounge after ploughing his way through a large plate of sandwiches. He was joined by Dad, Jon, who is today's match sponsor.

Carlton turn up the heat in the second half. The all important first goal is fired home by captain Niall Davie. He puts the game to bed from the penalty spot after the excellent David Adegbola is upended in the box. Niall's mum, Lynn, says she is being 'greedy' in hoping her son can bag a hat-trick. He duly obliges with a neat header from another well taken corner. The icing on the cake is afterwards in the clubhouse when Davie pulls his father's number out in the 200 Club first prize draw. He can't half pick 'em.

Attendance: 155

Man of the Match: Niall Davie  

Gedling Miners Welfare 3-3 Radford FC

It's an early exit from the FA Cup for Lincoln City. They are well beaten by the Shrimpers from Morecambe. We troop out of Sincil Bank towards the railway station. Julian, the Morecambe fan, is grinning like a Cheshire cat, as his team will be in the hat for tomorrow's draw. Wycombe away is a poor reward. I probably won't ever speak to him again. He poses for a '2-1' photo on the train home before alighting the train with Dean Gripton at Lowdham Station. I wish Julian well, through gritted teeth.

It's Monday evening and I'm pouring a can of session craft ale from Azvex Brewery, who are based in Liverpool. I flick on the TV set and scroll through the channels. Tottenham Hotspur v Chelsea is the game of choice tonight. I stay gripped in my armchair for 111 minutes  as the teams play out a spine-tingling game of football. There are 25 shots, 5 disallowed goals, 7 bookings and 2 red cards. 

It's Tuesday evening and I've just finished the Dolly Parton eight hour shift at the shop. It's Euromillions day and I'm out on my feet, as I loiter at the bus stop on High Street, in Arnold town centre. The chuffing bus is late again. It's half an hour before another one rolls up.

I stand outside The Willowbrook pub, in Gedling, with Carlton Town official photographer Lou Lardi. A Skoda estate pulls up. It's DJ Murph, also known as 'Chief Wiggum' on the fans' WhatsApp group. Clubshop Ken completes the quartet.

We're driving out towards the village of Collingham, which lies on the edge of the Notts/Lincs border. The Mighty Millers are pitting their wits against Newark and Sherwood in the Notts Senior Cup. There's a drop-your-bacon-sandwich moment when 'Wiggum' confesses to being a big fan of the reality TV show I'm a Celeb, presented by those pair of Herberts, Ant 'n Dec. It knocks me for six to be honest. I try to concentrate on 'Bela Lugosi's Dead' by Bauhaus, that's playing on the car radio, whilst coming to terms with Murph's confession.

The chippy is mobbed with folk; most of whom wear the yellow and blue scarves of Carlton Town. The hard-working staff are rushed off their feet. There's the added pressure of the presence of famous fish and chip reviewer, Danny Bhoy. Fish is cooked to order and doesn't disappoint. The locals are miffed as queues snake out of the door.

It's £6 on the gate. I dive straight into the bar as temperatures plummet. It's good to see a couple of real ales on draught, including one from the Beermats stable who are located in Newark. 35-40 supporters have made the trip from Carlton. I clock a pasty-looking 'Casually Dan' who has recently returned from a three day drinking binge (his stag) in Budapest.

The Millers are in cruise control and coast to victory. The second goal is comedy gold. I'm walking out of the clubhouse with MSR colleague and friend, Kieran Harlow. I ask a guy if the score is still 1-0 as Alex Hardwick pulls the trigger, firing a shot like a tracer bullet into the roof of the net. Hardwick runs to the travelling support, to be met with a shower of steaming hot chocolate, topped with marshmallow, courtesy of 'Casually Dan.' It's a good night for Millers' commercial manager Gary Clarke and his dog Gizmo. They've won a tin of sweets in the raffle.

I love my days off and always put them to good use. I get good value from my Broadway Cinema membership. There's a matinee showing of Killers of the Flower Moon, the latest blockbuster from the American filmmaker, Martin Scorsese. Its running time is longer than the Spurs v Chelsea game. Actually it's 100 minutes longer than the said game. It starts and finishes in the blink of an eye. Robert De Niro gives a masterclass in how to be manipulative and cunning.

I've time to kill and a rumbling tummy. I stroll up Broad Street and turn through the doors of the award-winning, trendy eatery, Bohns Best Burgers. I hoover up a peanut butter jelly double smash patty burger, topped with Shropshire blue Stilton and pickled gherkins.

I wander up past my second home, the railway station. before crossing the tramline and heading up through the Meadows area of Nottingham. I'm meeting up with a few mates I haven't seen in a while. I'm not a big fan of the Waterside Bar, a stone's throw away from the 'World Famous City Ground.' It's owned by the Red Cat Company, whose CEO is ex Greene King. So imagine my surprise, on arrival, to be told there's no real ales on. Thankfully the company is better than the watering hole. 'The Mayor of Keyworth', 'Chopper Harris', 'Soup', 'Beef', 'Barthez' and 'Jenko.' are all on fine form.

We finish up in a 'Spoons called the Trent Bridge Inn, adjacent to the cricket ground, as it's the only pub still open. It's where I had my 21st birthday party, upstairs, back in 1985. Lincoln City played out a 0-0 draw, the following day, versus D***y County. I was literally spewing all day. I don't do 0-0s.

I rise early on Friday morning. I didn't arrive home until 12.30 am the previous evening. I'm back at the train station on Platform 1A where the 11.17 Northern service to Leeds is set to leave. Another day has been mapped out by Tony Mac. Today it's Chesterfield, the birthplace and final resting place of George Stephenson, renowned as the "Father of the Railways.

"We've already ticked off a couple of CAMRA entries in the town centre as we begin to head out to the famous 'Brampton Mile.' An eagle-eyed Mac spots Brampton Brewery. Not only do we receive a lovely, warm welcome from the lady behind the bar, but she also very kindly draws us out a map of the area with recommendations on the best pubs to visit.

We both agree on a 7.15 cut off time as we need to catch the train to Ilkeston as there is a CAMRA pub called The Dewdrop, a short walk from the station, that we've been dying to visit for ages. It's just our luck that on arrival we find that the pub is closed for cellar work. Stranded and nowhere near the town centre, we have no option other than to order an Uber into Nottingham.

I enjoy a lie-in on Saturday morning. I'm treating Ms Moon to lunch at Tamasha, on Mapperley Tops. It's an Asian fusion restaurant which serves delicious sizzling grilled food and speciality tapas. The staff are first-class and the food is high in quality. We have fishcakes, lamb chops and smoked garlic mushrooms.  

Dessert is the United Counties Division One League local derby between Gedling Miners Welfare and Radford FC. It's £5 on the gate. Radford FC 'Director of Football', Big Glenn Russell, isn't best pleased to see me. I'm greeted with "What are you doing here Jonah?" I promise to fire over £25 for a speaker's evening with Hull City legend Dean Windass, that's being held at the end of the month.

We observe a minute's silence for Remembrance Day. I think of my granddad. The game gets off to a flier with the visitors fortunate not to be behind after ten seconds. I try to do a quick circuit of the ground, but keep bumping into people that I know. Faggsy, Chris Widdowson, Roberto and Edward and John Hartstone are all in attendance.

Radford take the lead with a stunning goal from university student James Reynolds. The Miners quickly and deservedly equalise shortly after. On the stroke of half time Jevin Seaton hits a worldy strike from 25 yards out to put the visitors 2-1 up.

We're joined by The Hartstones and Faggsy for the second half. The game is overshadowed by Ms Moon and Edward constantly chinwagging about the TV soaps. I've a good mind to call the referee over so he can show them both a red card. Apparently the cafe in EastEnders has burnt down. It'll just be another fraudulent insurance claim for Ian Beale. Next time I'll bring them a copy each of the magazine Inside Soap from the shop, so they can both pore over it at half-time in the clubhouse.

On the pitch, two strikes by substitute Zac Hill have put Gedling MW 3-2 up. Radford have another goal in them. A free kick is expertly clipped into the box where it skims off the head of Conor Moore and into the roof of the net.It's been a pulsating game of football, with no quarter given. On reflection a draw is a fair result, although the Miners have twice hit the woodwork. 

The bush telegraph is reporting a 6-0 drubbing for Snowflake FC, dished out by the Keyworth United Green Army. A 16 year old kid, who plays for the badge, has bagged 4x goals. The seafood restaurants and champagne bars on The Avenue, in Bread 'n Lard Island, will be as quiet as a mouse this evening, as the senior team have also been defeated by bottom-placed Sandiacre Town. 

Attendance: 170 

Man of the Match: Robert De Niro

Credit photos: Steve McKeown and Nigel Harlow. Thank you.

Lincoln City 1-2 Morecambe

You see this lad in the above photo, well, he is a very rare breed in Notts grassroots football and I will tell you why. When he was five years old I took him to Keyworth United Soccer School, where he fell in love with the game. He was 28 years old this weekend, and still remains at the same club. At a rough estimate I would say he has easily made over 500 appearances. 23 years continued, dedicated and loyal service. How many local players can say that? 

Over the years he has been treated appallingly by certain managers. Unperturbed, he's just kept his head down and cracked on. He's a foot soldier; not a leader. Lee Harper got the best out of him. Looked after him, Lee did, when Jack was 17 years old. I'll never forget that.

I'd be the first to admit that 'The Keyworth Georgie Best' is an emotional character on the pitch, who takes a bit of managing. but he is a lovely lad off it. He never misses training, or kicks up much of a fuss. The club foolishly allowed a charlatan to bring players (mercenaries) into a village Community Club  from all over the county - and yet after a decade of this tiresome shit show of a policy the trophy cabinet is still laid bare, despite trying to 'buy' the NSL Prem Division last season. They won diddly squat. The first team didn't even train when I coached there. How embarrassing is that? They actually came and joined in with my sessions with the development squad.

28 players, mostly big time Charlies, left the club (in the shit) in the summer. A large majority of them pitched up at 'Bread 'n Lard Island FC'. Step 6 has proved too challenging for the journeymen snowflakes. Zero wins in the last nine games the last time I looked.  As for the Management, nobody wanted them. Still putting cones out the last I heard. 

The Gedling MW v Loughborough Students game was a cracker. Ms Moon and I exit the Plains Road ground and head up towards Mapperley Tops. I'm not a massive 'Spoons fan, but Ms Moon is partial to a pint of Strongbow. 'Spoons sacked them off for Stowford Press, post COVID, but it seems recently that 'Bow is back in favour. The Woodthorpe Top is the best Wetherspoons in Notts. There's no numpties in there like you get on Carlton Hill, where you have to wipe your feet on the way out. I do have to change a cloudy (probs past the sell by date ) Castle Rock pale ale. It's swapped out with no fuss by a friendly barman.

It's Tuesday evening and I'm holed up in Junkyard Bottle Shop and Pour House, on Bridlesmith Walk. The craft scorecard is a joy to behold. I sink a Neon Raptor and a Black Iris - two of Nottinghamshire finest breweries. 

As I sit down I feel uncomfortable. I rifle in my back pocket and fish out a pair of scissors that I must have used in the paper shop today. Bloody hell, I'm off to gig at The Bodega later. What if I get stopped and searched on the door? 59 year old man arrested in possession of a pair of scissors.

Indie band Deadletter, who are causing quite a stir in the music world, are in town tonight. They remind me of Yard Act, also from Leeds, as they play their way through a blistering one hour set. I stand at the back as I must be the oldest swinger in town.

Wednesday afternoon is spent in town. Ms Moon and I lunch at an authentic, classic Italian restaurant called Piccolino, on Weekday Cross. The welcome is warm, and the service is first-class. I wash a chicken Caesar salad down with a glass of white wine.

Broadway Cinema is around the corner in the hustle and bustle of hipster Hockley. With its trendy bars and cool recycled and second hand clothes shops. We watch a beautifully put together film called Typist Artist Pirate King. It's a warm, sympathetic story of a woman's mental health illness and a journey back to her birthplace. I finish the afternoon off, reflecting on the film, in the back bar of the King William IV, in Sneinton.

The heavens open for most of Thursday as torrential rain bounces off the windows. I jump on a bus at 6pm outside Victoria Centre. I alight on Hound Road in West Bridgford. I've been looking forward to this evening for many months now. I walk through the doors of the Derek Randall Suite, at Trent Bridge Cricket Ground, for the first time since Sept 11th 1993. 

I pay my £15 subscription to the secretary of the Notts Cricket Lovers' Society. I chat with three old friends who I used to play cricket with at Keyworth CCC. The star of the show this evening is the ever popular fast bowler Luke Fletcher, who was awarded a testimonial this season after 15 years of service to the club. 

Fletch is so engaging and open. He talks of his early life as a goalkeeper at Notts County academy and as a pot washer at Hooters, a sports bar and grill that's famous for its chicken wings. There is a turning point in Luke's life when he joins Papplewick and Linby Cricket Club. He's mentored there by former Leicestershire, Lancashire and England bowler Phil DeFreitas. If you get the chance go and watch Fletch at a speakers' event, he's well worth the time and money as he has an abundance of stories from his life at Trent Bridge, and his anecdotes are laugh out loud.

It's Friday morning and I'm sitting with Tony Mac at YOLK, an independent coffee shop and breakfast joint, where you can build your own egg breakfasts. We enjoy some banter with the manager, Jan, before heading down to the train station.

The city of Stoke-on-Trent, in Staffordshire, has been on our radar for some time now. It's just over an hour on the train. We dive straight into Bod, a micropub that's located in the station itself. Mac has mapped the day out. We'd usually pound the streets and rack up 12 miles or 30,000 steps. Uber is going to come in handy today.

We're dropped off outside Port Vale FC. Whilst researching I'd come across a blue plaque in the memory of former Motorhead frontman Lemmy, who is Burslem born and bred. We locate the plaque close to reception. There is also a fantastic statue of Roy Sproson, another one club man, who made 837 starts for the club.

Burslem, despite being a wee bit run down still, has some wonderful pubs and old buildings to admire. The landlords are dead engaging and interested that we've travelled all the way from Nottingham. There's a retro jukebox in one of the pubs. It's 2 plays for £1. I put on 'All Day And All of the Night' by The Kinks. Mac chooses 'Ghost in my House' by R.Dean Taylor.

It's another class day out as we tick off loads of CAMRA and Heritage pubs in Hanley, Stoke, Newcastle under-Lyme and Hartshill. It gets messy in BeerHeadZ back at Nottingham Station when we clock an 8% Pentrich DIPA is available on tap.

I'm fresh as a daisy on Saturday morning. Bad news comes over the social media airwaves that Carlton Town's home game versus Newton Aycliffe has been hosed off. I contact Julian, a Morecambe fan, to see if he fancies the Imps v Shrimpers FA Cup 1st Round tie at Sincil Bank. He answers in the affirmative and says fellow Carlton Town fan Dean Gripton will be travelling too. I bag three tickets on the Lincoln City website.

I catch the train a 15 minute walk away at Carlton train station. The lads jump aboard at the village of Lowdham. We have to change at Newark Castle, but it does give us the opportunity of a quick pint at the Castle Barge and a go at a quiz on the longest-serving players at each Premier League Club.

The train arrives in Lincoln Central at 12.30pm. I ask Julian if he's ever walked up Steep Hill before. He says he hasn't. I can tell that as he gasps for air halfway up before asking "are we there yet?" I'm in my second BeerHeadz pub in just over 12 hours. The lads love it. It's better than the High Street where the pubs will be packed out with football supporters.

We clocked a pie shop on our challenging walk up the hill. We dive in for a late lunch. I opt for a haslet sausage roll, a first for me, and it's bloomin' lovely too. We've spent that much time talking, drinking and eating that we arrive at the game as the teams kick off. Our seats in the stand give us a bird's eye view of proceedings.

Morecambe released their best players at the end of last season due to budget cuts. Lincoln have invested heavily in a young squad, but have been missing strikeforce pairing Ben House and Tyler Walker for most of the season. The Imps sensationally sacked Mark Kennedy a few weeks ago. It came out of the blue. I wasn't a big fan to be honest.

It's nip and tuck in the early stages. The Imps take the lead through the impressive Dane, Lasse Sorensen. The Shrimpers are always in the game. They deservedly equalise shortly before half time with a soft goal from a set piece.

Morecambe take the lead with a brilliantly taken goal following a flowing move. They waste further chances to increase their lead, but Lincoln ain't going to score in a month of Saturdays.

Man of the Match: Deadletter

Attendance: 200 (sellout at The Bodega)