I bid farewell to John Harris and wife Jackie in Kimberley high street after viewing a hard-fought game versus Lincoln United. Kimberley Miners Welfare gave their all and left nothing out on the pitch. John assures me that there is a No.1 bus to Nottingham every ten minutes. The scoreboard, at the bus stop, begs to differ, as it displays in neon lights that there's a 25 minute waiting time - it's one of those frustrating moments us bus wankers have to suffer now and again.
A guy is hanging around waiting for the delayed bus with me. I had him down as a groundhopper to be honest, due to him having a rucksack hanging off his shoulder. I was going to ask him whether his mum had made him jam sandwiches and packed them in a Tupperware container. It turns out that he's a Lincoln United supporter. He has to catch a bus into Nottingham, a train to Lincoln and then make a 45 minute walk home. And here's me bellyaching about waiting 25 minutes for the next bus.
I'm down on the rota to work over 40 hours at the paper shop in Arnold this week. It's a busy newsagent at the best of times and is only going to ramp up with Christmas around the corner. It's an EVRI parcel shop too, and that proper keeps Sticky on his toes as 500 parcels are booked in and out of the shop each day.
The EVRI driver is a massive Benfica fan, as he used to live in Portugal. I asked him for his thoughts on the Nottingham Forest 'keeper Odysseas Vlachodomis, who the Tricky Trees signed from Benfica. He says he is a fantastic stopper and that he helped his club reach the Champions League semi-final last season. His achilles heel is that he can't play it out from the back, which is a prerequisite in the Premier League these days.
It's Tuesday evening and I'm in one of my favourite old school pubs in Nottingham called Lillie Langtry's, which is located opposite the Theatre Royal and Royal Concert Hall. I enjoy a pint of Tribute from the St Austell Brewery, in Cornwall. I walk to Notts County's game versus Crawley Town with one of the customers at the shop called Phil, who, when he worked, was a painter and decorator, taxi driver and courier.
It's £22 to sit in Block B of the Derek Pavis Stand. The Pies paper-thin squad has been stretched of late. Cedwyn Scott and the influential Matty Palmer have both been ruled out for the season. Their away form is a worry, as is the defence who are leaking goals like a sieve.
I stare across the pitch during the minute's applause for former Barcelona, Tottenham Hotspur and England manager Terry Venables, who recently passed away at the age of 80 years old. Housed in the Jimmy Sirrel Stand are 136 visiting supporters from Crawley, most of whom will have made the tiring 340 mile round trip. It's those loyal, die-hard fans that cheer first, after former Pie, Adam Campbell, hits a pearler of a shot from distance to put the Red Devils one to the good.
Jodi Jones and David McGoldrick are running the show. The latter restores parity as the game ebbs and flows. Crawley, to their credit, more than deserve to be on level terms at the break. The visitors commit hari kari in the second half, gifting the Pies goals following sloppy defending from a set piece and trying to be too clever by playing out from the back.
It's Wednesday evening and Ms Moon is up on Carlton Hill at the Christmas lights switch-on. I flick on the TV set and settle down in my armchair whilst Galatasaray and Man Utd commence battle in the Champions League. It's an incredible, breathtaking, fast-paced game of ball with chances galore going begging. 3-3 is the final score.
A shivering cold Ms Moon wrestles control of the remote. She flicks down the TV schedule and selects the Northern soap opera Coronation Street, which has been running on our TV screens for just shy of 63 years.
There's a scene that features Chesney and his wife Gemma in the living room of their house on the cobbled streets of Weatherfield. I make a comment to Ms Moon that all that Gemma seems to do is loaf about on the sofa munching on snacks all day. And another thing whilst I'm on one, they've got five kids including quads, and yet I've never heard a peep or seen his missus break sweat once; well only when Chesney brings one of his kebabs back from the shop. I ask Ms Moon how they can afford dog food for Schmeichel. She says the Great Dane died years ago.
It's Thursday evening and I'm arriving in the city centre on the Nottingham City Transport No.58 bus. I wander through the Market Square, ignoring that bloody chavvy market. The cosy Barrel Drop pub, tucked away up Hurts Yard, is packed to the rafters, as its pay day.
I haven't been in the Bell Inn, a 15th century pub just off the Square, in ages. I manage to find a table to the rear of the main bar. I graze over a rich and fruity Plum Porter from the Nottingham Brewery. Half an hour later I venture out into the dark and freezing conditions.
I jump onto a NCT tram that takes me out of town, past Nottingham Trent University, through Forest Fields, where Goose Fair is held each year, before I alight at the Noel Street stop. I wander through Asda car park and cross over the road towards Selhurst Street. There isn't a game on at Radford FC this evening but there is entertainment (including Big Glenn). There's a comedian on, followed by the guest speaker, who is Hull City legendary striker Dean Windass.
I exchange insults with Big Glenn, whose table I am on. I love him to bits really and his Club too, I also catch up with blog legend Swifty who is still producing first-class playing surfaces in Notts Non League football that are flatter than the whole of Lincolnshire. I'm introduced to Leigh Palin, an ex pro with Hull City, who has kindly driven Windass to the gig. I chat with Dean who is keen to learn about the local Non League scene; he's a smashing fellow.
The comedian warms us all up with some razor sharp wit and amusing gags. Dean Windass is on stage for an hour. He is a warm, humble, down to earth guy. He recognises the 'working class' audience immediately and embraces this, changing his set accordingly. He says "I knew you were for me lads as soon as I walked through the door. You're my kind of people", he adds.
I'd forgotten the list of clubs he'd played for, they include: Hull City, Aberdeen, Oxford Utd, Bradford City and Sheffield United. He talks openly about the death of his father, his struggles after retirement and two attempts at suicide. It's tear jerking stuff as he reminds the Men in the room to speak out and share if they are struggling to cope in any walks of their life. It preys on my mind and makes me feel sad as I wait for an UBER outside Japatti Junction on Radford Road.
I meet Tony Mac on the 2pm Cross Country Trains, Nottingham to Birmingham New Street. It's the Friday Night Club Christmas excursion. We've booked an apartment in the heart of the city centre with two separate bedrooms, so we don't wake each other up snoring.
The idea is to tick off as many CAMRA beer entries that we've left to do, as well as visiting some of the Heritage Pubs that this great city has to offer. I've targeted the Digbeth area this evening. Some of the pubs are outstanding and mostly Grade II listed buildings. A few to visit, if of any interest are: Lamp Tavern and White Swan.
We jump in a taxi and visit some classic boozers in the Harborne area before returning to the city centre for some heavy duty nightcaps at craft bars called Tilt and Kilder. It's bitterly cold and I've lost my beanie hat. We arrive back at our centrally-heated apartment at well gone twelve bells. Some session that was.
We catch the train to Northfield in the morning and have a 'Spoons breakfast at the Black Horse. It has a timbered exterior and carved woodwork. There's a few sprogs running around but on the whole the punters are well behaved. I tend to trip 'em up to be honest, so they end up back in their high chair.
There's three pubs on our radar in a suburb called Stirchley. We arrive at the British Oak at 11.57. It's a nail-biting three minute wait for the pub front doors to be opened - 'Trumpy Bolton Time' I call it. We finish up in the Erdington and Aston area before fortuiously catching an earlier train home so we don't get caught up in football traffic following the Nottingham Forest v Everton game.
Attendance: 7,716
Men and Women of the Match: The Crawley 136
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