It’s been an intense TV soap watch for Ms Moon this week. Corrie’s Steve McDonald has taken his eye off the ball, whilst clocking up overtime by ferrying too many folk around in his Street Cars cab. I’m not sure how many weeks work painter and decorator Tommy Orpington quoted for, to decorate the two up two down terrace, but it's not just the wallpaper he’s been stripping. The former Weatherfield Rovers striker, an idol of Steve's, can certainly score on and off the pitch. They think it's all over for Steve and Tracy; it is now.
It’s Wednesday lunchtime and we’re heading up to Mapperley Tops in Ms Moon’s daughter’s car. It’s the same drill as last week: Capital FM is on the car stereo. They are spinning a rank awful version of Coolio’s Gangsta’s Paradise, which was a chart number one on both sides of the Atlantic in 1995.
I thought I’d have a gleg at how Coolio was getting on these days. Sadly, he died in Sept 2022 from an accidental fentanyl drug overdose, at the age of 59 yrs old. The rap that made him famous is a sample of an old Stevie Wonder song from 1976 called 'Pastime Paradise', which is from his classic album Songs In the Key of Life. Listen to it; it’ll blow your mind.
I switch off Capital FM as Ms Moon parks up. We walk through a passageway that leads us onto Mapperley high street. Lunch is spent in a popular Asian-fusion restaurant called Tamasha. We enjoy some tapas accompanied by some bread and soft drinks. A 20% discount voucher comes in handy when settling up the bill. Tamasha has a sister restaurant called Rawsha Grill, on Gordon Road, in West Bridgford. The Google reviews at 4.7 suggest a visit is well worthwhile.
I had hoped to watch a film at Broadway Cinema in the evening. It’s a 2014 documentary called Pantani: The Accidental Death of a Cyclist. I’m gobsmacked to find out that tonight’s showing is completely sold out. Not bad eh, for a 10 year old film.
I rent it out on Amazon Prime for £3.49. Director, James Erskine, tells the tragic story of cyclist Marco Pantani, who became the first Italian to win the Tour de France and Giro d'Italia, both in 1998. It documents doping charges and Pantani's six year battle with cocaine addiction. I buy the book written by award-winning author Matt Rendell.
Thursday is one of the saddest days I've had for many a year. My close friend Steve Belz ('The Taxman) is laid to rest in the village of Stragglethorpe, close to Cotgrave. Steve was a season ticket holder at The City Ground for over 51 years. At the service he requested that some of the NFFC pre-match tunes were played such as 'Right Here, Right Now' by Fat Boy Slim and 'Born Slippy' by Underworld. It brings a smile to my face.
The wake is held at the Carriage Hall which is behind Perkins Bistro restaurant in Plumtree. I meet a few of Steve's colleagues from the Inland Revenue. We exchange amusing anecdotes of our time spent in Steve's company. I decide not to drink any alcohol, as I know I wouldn't be able to stop.
I feel sad, empty and flat on my solo journey back home. My mood isn't lifted when I watch the second episode of Channel 4's documentary on the Miners' Strike from back in 1984. It covers off the Battle of Orgreave, when Margaret Thatcher gave the Met Police carte blanche to behave in any way they chose. Pickets were charged by police on horseback who converged on the pickets from three fronts. They were ran back into town.
123 miners were injured. 95 were arrested. 55 mineworkers were charged under the Riot Act which carried sentences of up to 25 years imprisonment. All 55 were cleared of the charges and set free from court. It makes my blood boil when I watch the TV footage. This was all on Thatcher's watch.
On Friday morning it's pelting it down with rain when Ms Moon and I dash out of a taxi at Nottingham railway station and onto an escalator that leads us up to the platforms. I'd earlier had an alert on my Trainline app to say that the Norwich to Liverpool train had been cancelled due to a signalling fault between Ely and Peterborough.
It looked like we were going to have to catch a train to Derby, in an effort to reach our final destination, York, where my brother Mark lives. There is a rare moment of commonsense from the usually underperforming and incompetent East Midlands Trains. They cobble together four carriages and find a driver, so we can get to Sheffield where we change trains.
The weather isn't much kinder to us in York. We dive into a cafe called Cocoa Joe's on Museum Street whilst we wait for 'Our Kid' to pick us up from outside York Minster. The incessant heavy rain puts paid to any visit to one of the abundance of National Trust gardens that are nearby to York. We drink tea and chit chat in Mark's kitchen until booking an UBER back into town at teatime.
The first port of call, on the cobbled streets of Jubbergate, in York City centre, is a Thornbridge Brewery tap house called The Market Cat. I enjoy a pint of creamy vanilla 5% stout called McConnels, as we sit at a table at the top of this three storey pub that's bustling with weekend revellers.
My brother very kindly treats us all to a meal at an Italian cellar restaurant called Delrio's, which has Sardinian influences. It's to celebrate my 60th birthday. We sink a couple of bottles of red wine during the meal. The scallops followed by medallions of beef, melt in the mouth.
The plan on Saturday was to travel back to Nottingham before dashing down to El Stadio Stokeld to watch Carlton Town versus Ossett Town, who are from West Yorkshire. Despite the valiant efforts of a hardy band of volunteers, the match fails a mid-morning pitch inspection. Realistically there is only other game I can go to, but complicated logistics will all need to fall into place.
Northern Rail do their utmost to muck my day up. The connecting train from Chesterfield to Nottingham is running late due to having 'too many trains to repair.' I've never heard so much tosh in my life. Time is against me as I scurry up Lister Gate towards Queen Street.
Ms Moon and I part company in the Market Square. The good lady is jumping on a 24 bus: destination is Marks and Spencer Food Hall on Victoria Retail Park in Netherfield. It's a very proud and exciting moment for Sticky Palms. A tear rolls down my eye as I set foot on the Gedling 45 bus for the first time ever. I know how trainspotters feel now when they chance upon a locomotive that they've never set eyes on before.
I make the short walk from Mapperley shops to Gedling Miners Welfare, Plains Road ground. Despite my best endeavours I arrive five minutes late to the game. The groundhopping Gestapo will haul me before a kangaroo court in the morning for a disciplinary meeting. I dash to the loo as that's been on my mind for a wee while.
There's a large Carlton contingent in attendance. Club legends Jon Hartstone and Clubshop Ken are sat in the stand. On the far side are Faggsy, Chief Wiggum, Herr Harlow and Lou Lardi. The visitors are St Andrews from inner city Leicester. It is them who look the more likely to break the deadlock in the opening half.
There's an incident in the clubhouse at half time. Carlton diehard Stuart from Stoke Bardolph has brought Millers legendary dog mascot 'Joey' (Barton). The Carlton mutt has kicked off with another dog in the bar. Joey has previous for banning orders in a number of East Midlands clubhouses including Lincoln United. I catch Stuart on his way out of the bar and ask him what's gone off. "I don't want Joey fraternising with any dirty dogs from Leicester" he remarks.
Two moments of class from the Miners put the game to bed in the second half. 'Kezza' keeps his head as he rounds the 'keeper and rolls the ball into an empty net. Substitute Gianfranco Ciaurro hammers home the final nail in the coffin with a smart finish. I can't 'arf pick 'em.
Attendance: 103
Man of the Match: Stuart, Joey's owner
2 comments:
Nice read Sticky I was getting bored with Viz annuals
Nice one mate, the Pantani book is sad story but a great read. There’s a well thumbed copy kicking around the house somewhere, need to try to find it again!
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