Nottinghamshire CCC v Warwickshire CCC

We're driving out of the prosperous, coastal village of Saltdean, near to the city of Brighton. I stare out of the car window admiring the chalk cliffs and shingle beach. The stunning Saltdean Lido comes into view with its open-air swimming pool and public library.

Ms Moon drops her brother, Andrew and Sticky off at the Hairy Dog, a farm-based microbrewery near Haywards Heath. The good lady speeds off to Sainsbury's to buy some ingredients for a spag Bol she's preparing for supper this evening.

There's a comedy moment after I've ordered the beers up. As I quaff on my mango real ale, Andrew is about to spark up a Lambert and Butler Silver king-size cigarette. A majority of the customers are as fit as a fiddle and serious dog walkers. Not one person at the brewery either smokes or has a lighter. I laugh out loud as Andrew nervously fiddles with an unlit cigarette, until his sister returns from the shop.

Bad weather blows in overnight. Rumbles of thunder and fork lightning keep me awake. The skies look threatening as we enjoy a five star breakfast at the Orange Square on the high street near the railway station. Despite travel disruptions we speed up the train lines to London Victoria and by tube to King's Cross. A LNER high speed train drops us off at Grantham. Even the usually unreliable jokers, East Midland Trains, get us back into Nottingham on the final leg of the journey.

Football is thin on the ground this week. Not only is there little midweek action, but nothing really catches my eye for the weekend either. I hatch a plan for Saturday that will see my first blog without football since COVID in 2020 when we were all crawling up the walls. Had my biggest hits then too ...lol

Brownie points always go down well at our crib when I rustle up a dish for tea. I flick through the cooking books I amassed off the Net (probably during COVID). Thirty minute speedy midweek dinners is a crowd favourite, and doesn't half come in handy after a day at the shop selling Daily Mails whilst talking to excited Nottingham Forest supporters who are getting all giddy and dizzy about their unbeaten start to the season. 

An award-winning creamy chicken in peppercorn sauce is enjoyed during the latest episode of 'The Farm'  on Tuesday evening. I ask Ms Moon how Matt and Dolly Skilbeck are these days? She tells me to shush as Yorkshire's latest psychopath starts wielding an axe which ends being put through a door frame.

It's Wednesday and the beginning of four days off. I don't like to stand still or waste time. After hoovering, cleaning up and a general tidy around the house, I head into town. I call by MSR Newsagents on Angel Row where I grab a drink and a bag of jelly beans. The shop is open until 11pm now that the 40,000 students are back at University of Nottingham and NTU. 

The Market Square is alive and kicking. There are no expensive fairground rides or tacky market stalls. People just sit and chat with friends as the Council House clock strikes two bells. It's been a while since I used my membership card at Broadway Cinema. A subtitled French film called The Goldman Case caught my eye when going through the listings for Wednesday afternoon.

There's a controversial start to proceedings on Row E at Screen 4. A couple of students, who I might add have already cheesed me off by arriving ten minutes into the film, have plonked themselves two seats up from me. The buffoon of a bloke starts rummaging through a rucksack before unearthing a family-sized bag of cheese and onion Ringos. Not only do they stink the place out, but the noise of the crunching and rattling of the packet makes my blood boil. I feel like grabbing the bag off him, stamping on it and pouring the crumbs all over his head. I've been dead grumpy since I turned 60 ... lol

The film is a gripping real-life two hour courtroom drama - 'Chief Wiggum' at Carlton Town would have loved it. It chronicles the second trial of a left-wing activist who is charged with the murder of two chemists. The subtitles help me concentrate and not miss out on any of the plot. I won't spoil the ending, but would definitely recommend watching the film. It's highly rated on Rotton Tomatoes.

Thursday is Day One of the final Liverpool Victoria Cricket County Championship fixture between Notts and Warwickshire at Trent Bridge. Heavy overnight rain and a prolonged afternoon shower mean that there's only time for 15 overs of play. It doesn't dampen our enthusiasm as a gaggle of supporters sat in the Lower Radcliffe Road Stand including Faggsy, Drurs and 'Seadog Paul' cover off a range of topics before retiring to the Fox and Grapes for a couple of pints of Castle Rock's Harvest Pale ale.

I head towards Birmingham on a Cross Country train on Friday. I've only five minutes to catch my connection to the city of Wolverhampton that lies in the heart of the Black Country. New Street Station hasn't seen such a turn of pace between platform 10 and platform 7 since 'Tricky Trevor Francis' used to motor down the wing for the Bluenoses in the 1970s at St Andrews. An out of breath Sticky Palms jumps on an Avanti West Coast train to Blackpool North with seconds remaining.

Wolverhampton has a population of 260,000. During the Industrial Revolution it became well known for coal-mining, steel production, automotive industry and lock making. I walk out of the station to be greeted by clear blue skies and a cool breeze.

Tony Perkins, the landlord at the Partizan Tavern, in Sneinton, tipped me off that Great Western Pub is a must visit. I enjoy a pint of Holdens Golden ale at this red-bricked watering hole that's adorned with endless railway memorabilia.

I take a stroll up to Molineux, home to Wolverhampton Wanderers. As TV crews unpack their camera gear I wander around the perimeter of the ground, taking photos of statues of Wolves legends Stan Cullis, Billy Wright and Sir Jack Hayward.

The city of Wolverhampton gets a poor press in my opinion. The cathedral is a beautiful building and some of the architecture is phenomenal. As the saying goes 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder - it's created by the observer.

I wile away time in a number of the city's historical pubs. None is more famous than The Posada on Lichfield Street. It has art noveau architecture that dates back to the 19th Century. It also has a lot of drunken loud-mouthed oafs in here too, and it's only 4 pm. A customer rises above it all by playing Prefab Sprout's classic track 'Life of Surprises.'

I'm watching The The for the second time in three weeks. The venue, University of Wolverhampton, The Halls, is excellent, with a sound system superior to Rock City. Lead singer, Matt Johnson, is on fire. I love his anti-right lyrics and socialist values. I cadge a lift home. Thanks mate.

I rise early on Saturday morning. The M6. near Wolverhampton last night, was alive with blue lights hurtling towards Wolverhampton city centre - it turns out that three women were hurt in a drive-by shooting just as we left the gig at 11 pm, at an event a 15 minute walk away.There's just enough time for a greasy spoon full English fry up at The Avenues on Sneinton Market before I peg it down to Trent Bridge for a 10.15 am presentation. One of the most popular cricketers on the County circuit, and a legend at our Club and in our City, is leaving today, after a 17 year career at Notts.

Luke Fletcher says a few words to a large crowd of supporters. He says he's surprised that it's taken 17 years to finally sack him ... lol. There's hardly a dry eye in the house as Fletch leaves the field of play for the final time as the curtain is drawn on a fantastic career. The Big Man is visibly moved. Even Drurs' missus, Jude, has pitched up to show her support and wave the Big 'Un goodbye.

I chance upon my good friend Edward, who is also a supporter of the Mighty Millers, Carlton Town FC. I ask him what he has tucked under his arm. He turns as white as the newspaper sheet he reveals and starts to stutter. It's the BLOODY DAILY MAIL. I don't speak to him for ten minutes as he hangs his head in shame. I grass him up to his Dad, Jon, who arrives for the afternoon session. Jon is a big fan of the iNews paper. I suggest to Ed that he takes a leaf out of Dad's book. I accept his apology, on the condition that this unsavoury incident isn't repeated again!

Notts's season has been saved and salvaged by an 18 year old and 16 year old, as the introduction of youth begins to reap rewards. I slope off at 4 pm, crossing over the bridge as NFFC and Fulham pit their wits against one another at The City Ground. There's plenty of oohs and aahs, but it's the visitors who run out as winners. It ends the Tricky Trees unbeaten start. The customers in the shop won't be as jolly this week.

Man of the Match: Big Luke Fletcher