Stapleford Town 2-2 Clifton All Whites

I love this time of year when the end of the cricket season overlaps with the beginning of the nine month grind of football fixtures. Crazy Steve, Little Al and I, had our annual pilgrimage up to Scotland, at the back end of July. The plan was to watch cash-strapped Inverness Caledonian Thistle versus Arbroath, and then, the following day, head east to Broughton Ferry, near Dundee, to take in a Cricket World Cup qualifier between Namibia and Oman.

To break up the journey we spent the first night in the historic cathedral city of Carlisle. A CAMRA Heritage pub was chalked off on the outskirts of the city centre before partaking in the traditional holiday Nando's. Sadly, there was no pre-season friendly at Brunton Park. 

The following day was a long trek up into the Scottish Highlands. We pitched up at our digs in Inverness at teatime. We went through the card on the town's Good Beer Guide entries before jumping in a cab to the Caledonian Stadium, which lies on the banks of the Moray Firth.

Crazy Steve made sure we sat behind the home dugout; the reason being that 'Caley' are managed by former Everton, Rangers and Dundee United striker Duncan Ferguson. It was fascinating to watch, at first hand, the coaching style of 'Big Dunc.' He encouraged and cajoled his young charges. I thought, at first, he'd lost that fire in his belly and had gone a wee bit soft. A contentious offside decision, that went against Caley, saw the Big 'Un racing up the touchline to have it out with a terrified assistant referee, whose legs turned to jelly.

We sacked off the cricket the following day. Instead we visited five Highland League grounds including: Inverurie Loco Works, Huntly FC, Forres Mechanics, Nairn County and Rothes. There was a friendly, warm welcome by a club official at each ground, making time for us whether they were cutting the grass, painting the clubhouse or carrying out maintenance. The mini break ended with fish and chips in the harbour of Anstruther, a coastal town south east of St Andrews.

On the 16th September, 1993, 21 year-old Duncan Ferguson assaulted a 29 year old local fisherman at Anstruther Royal Hotel. He was found guilty and narrowly escaped a jail sentence. In 2001 two burglars made a serious error of judgement when breaking into Big Dunc's house on Merseyside, as he loafed on the sofa, whilst binge-watching episodes of Balamory. One suffered injuries that led to him being hospitalised for three days. Ferguson later said he'd thought he had killed him.

It's Tuesday evening and I'm locking up the newsagents in Arnold after a full 'day in the office.' I've four days off after working ten in a row 'at the coal face,' The 25 bus drops me off on Mapperley Top. There's no point in going home as Ms Moon is working away in East Sussex. I've time to kill before a Notts Senior Cup first round tie between Gedling Miners Welfare and West Bridgford.

An engaging barman pours me a pint of 'Badly Drawn Gun' from Pentrich Brewery, at Castle Rock's Bread and Bitter pub. I take a seat in the restaurant and choose fish, chips and mushy peas from a varied menu. I'm just about to exit the pub when 'Chief Wiggum' comes breezing through the door. He kindly shouts me up a pint of Porter.

We join Faggsy at the game. It's as Jason Williamson says, from Sleaford Mods, 'a shaky start to Tuesday' as the visitors are 2-0 up at the break. GMW manager, Reuben Wiggins-Thomas, has a clash of heads with a team-mate - both are withdrawn from proceedings.

I chat with 'Skid' before going for a warm in the tearoom. Martin, a customer at the shop, says the game is all over. GMW are a second half team though. They claw two goals back, only to then end up losing 6-5 in a penalty shootout.  

It's Wednesday morning and I'm on bus wanker manoeuvres. I'll be catching three buses up to King's Mill Hospital, near Mansfield, as my best mate Tony Mac has been taken ill. He's moving rooms as I arrive. As it's closer to the exit door, he's hopeful of being discharged soon. We talk about more towns we can visit and gigs we can go to, when another mate of his rocks up. I leave them to chat and return to bus hopping duties.

It's Thursday morning and I'm sitting on a bench on Platform 3B at Nottingham railway station. I'm off to East Anglia on my 'Jack Jones.' The journey time is just shy of two and a half hours. After a wander around and a few jars I check into an apartment on King Street, close to the Cathedral Quarter. I tick a few more pubs off as I wander the cobbled streets in the city centre. I jump on a swanky Greater Anglia Train that puts the ramshackled EMR fleet to shame. A lady on the train borrows my phone charger to avoid a fine as she can't show her ticket to an eagle-eyed train manager. The village of Wymondham is only a ten minute journey away. The Green Dragon pub is timber-framed with a fireplace, snug and carved mantelpieces. It's a beauty, folks. 

The lads are arriving from Nottingham tomorrow, so I opt for an early (ish) night. Matt 'Tory Boy' Limon and I have an unlimited breakfast at the Premier Inn close to the train station. We walk it off for half an hour or so to one of Norwich's greatest brewery pubs named Fat Cat.

The rest of the lads (Chopper, Ackers and Coops) join us just after midday. A fantastic day is spent wandering the quaint streets of Norwich, drinking the fantastic ales they have on offer. Ribs of Beef and Chalk Hill's brewery tap, Coach and Horses, are two of the many standout pubs on the trip. I even paid up 'Tory Boy' a £5 bet we had that the Conservatives wouldn't hold their Rushcliffe seat for the first time in over 50 years.

Ms Moon and I catch up on Saturday morning. I like to treat the good lady to the finer things in life. I chance my arm and ask if she'd like an afternoon out in the Hyson Green/Radford area of inner city Nottingham. To my astonishment she says yes.

Clifton All Whites legend 'Tosh' called me earlier from 'Chappati Junction' with some leaked team news. I was having a shave at the time whilst listening to 'Everything She Wants' by Wham - it's the only track of theirs I like.

Ms Moon and I walk from town. We could have caught the tram, but it's a beautiful day, so why would you? I'm feeling it, slightly, after clocking up 20 miles in the last few days. A guy with dreadlocks is singing a Bob Marley song outside 'The Cricket Players' - it's been closed since 2008. On arrival there is bad news coming from the Clifton camp, one of their exciting youngsters has pulled up lame in the warm-up.

Clifton look to be going nowhere in the first 25 minutes. They lack energy, creativity and forward passing. Stapleford take the lead after some sloppy marking. The introduction of 'Deaks' sees an upping of the gears. Palmer (not me) equalises after being slipped in. He also misses a sitter shortly after. There's an incident before the break when Ms Moon can't find the Malteser Reindeer chocolate bar she bought me earlier at Premier on Radford Road. PC Palms performs a stop and search of the good lady's handbag. A decent rummage uncovers the lost property.

I catch up with Dunkirk legend 'Upo' in the clubhouse at the break. He offers to buy me a drink, but I'm on my best behaviour. His big buddy, Dave Harbottle, is down 'the Smoke' watching his lad playing for AFC Wimbledon versus a club who stole their identity - "where were you when you were us?" will be ringing around the terraces after a 3-0 win.

The second half is a classic. The impressive Palmer scores a second for All-Whites who are in the ascendancy after a half-time rocket from Tosh and joint manager Greg Tempest, a former pro at Notts County. They fluff their lines in front of goal. Stapleford equalise from a spot kick. Clifton are awarded a penalty themselves. The keeper's trailing leg means the opportunity isn't taken. The spoils are shared. It's been a lovely watch with mutual respect from both benches.

Attendance: 79

Man of the Match: Duncan Ferguson for sparking that wrong 'un out.