Carlton Town 3-0 Cleethorpes Town

It's Sunday 27th July and I'm back in Scotland where last season's blog ended. We're on the A96 adjacent to RAF Lossiemouth, where tomorrow the world's biggest buffoon, Donald J Trump, will be flying in for a summit with Sir Keir Starmer. Crazy Steve makes a right hand turn as he drops down the gears. We're about to visit Highland League club Lossiemouth FC. As Crazy picks up speed he can't get the car in gear. His clutch is kaput. The Scottish tour is curtailed.

I scratch my head as Crazy rummages around in his glove compartment trying to unearth his breakdown cover documents. I'm 500 miles away from home and on media duties early on Tuesday. Crazy and Little Al jump into a tow truck as his Hyundai is taken to the scrapyard in the sky - they will stay the night with friends in Turriff, who we met yesterday at a game between Buckie Thistle and Nairn. I have a day and a half to get home on my Jack Jones.

Scott's Taxis fleece me for £22 for the five mile journey to nearby Elgin. I reconvene in a Wetherspoons pub in the centre of town, where I wolf down a huge American breakfast whilst planning how the chuffing hell I'm going to get home. I hatch a plan to stay in Aberdeen for the night, as I've already booked a room for £35 at the Premier Inn.

Before departing by train I take a stroll up to Elgin City's Borough Briggs ground. It's a beauty folks and has two wonderful old stands. I make a mental note to return and watch a game. It's hosing it down in Aberdeen when I arrive at just after 3 pm. I go on a five hour mini pub crawl, avoiding D J Trump like the plague. A drunken old Scotsman, who's slouched in his seat at a CAMRA Heritage pub called The Grill, asks me who is the greatest ever player to pull on a Nottingham Forest shirt. "That's an easy one pal   ..... John Robertson." He argues that Trevor Francis was a better player. "Goodnight pal", I say, as I edge near to the exit door. 

The hotel is packed with journalists from around the world, who await the visit of President Trump. If only they knew that I work for the Media too ... lol. Earlier, at the Queen Victoria, England's Women's team won the Euros final. The winning penalty was met with a stony silence in a packed out bar.

I arrive back in Nottingham the following day at 5pm. It's a decent effort by Scot Rail. The less said about Cross Country Trains the better. I'm looking forward to a revisit across the border next April where Edinburgh, Dundee and Aberdeen are on the agenda.

It's been a long hot summer that I've thoroughly enjoyed; particularly the break from football. I've parked my backside at Trent Bridge a few times for County Championship games and the T20 Blast. It's been pleasing on the eye (well the good one) to see the development of Freddie McCann, Liam Patterson-White and Jack Haynes. I'm booked in for a few days at The Oval in mid September when the title decider takes place between Surrey and Notts.

I've been to a few games already this season. I ticked off Bromley FC a few weeks back after spending a few days in Hastings, Rye and London, where I ticked off 16 CAMRA Heritage pubs. The following week I was told to 'eff off' as I squeezed through the turnstile at Radford FC's Selhurst Street ground. They were up against another team I like, Stapleford Town. As The Smiths said in 1984  'Stop me if you've heard this one before'  .. yep Radford were 1-0 up and looking in control, suddenly they're 2-1 down and it's game over. I'm out the gate before I catch Big Glenn's eye  ... lol.

It's Tuesday evening and I'm alighting the 25 bus opposite the Nags Head on Carlton Road. I dive into Oceans fish bar for a chippy tea, as Ms Moon is down in Brighton, working. I'm back on the 25 bus an hour later. I jump off at Mapperley shops and take a wander down Plains Road.

I've already viewed Gedling Miners Welfare a few times this season and have liked what I've seen. Their 17 year old striker Joel Nana Tweneboah Kodua Stevens is absent tonight as he is on trial at League One, Reading. It's going to be expensive to get his name on the back of a replica shirt.

I stand with Faggsy, Jon Gilbert and Keyworth legend Chris Frame. The game isn't all that. A late Pinxton goal is enough for the visitors to take home the three points. I manage a pint from the Magpie Brewery at the Old Volunteer on the way home.

It's a quiet night in with a Tesco pizza on Wednesday evening after a 12 hour shift at MSR News in Arnold. I'm worn out having handed out copies of the Daily Mail all day. I watch 20 minutes of Rangers (that's enough for anyone), followed by Fenerbahce v Benfica, Jose's last game and finally the eventful shoot-out at Blundell Park, where Grimsby Town pull off a giant-killing.

Ms Moon is back on Friday afternoon. We have a couple of drinks at the Fox and Grapes in Sneinton. I notice they have a Black Iris beer on. I presume that it's a cask ale. Ms Moon returns from the bar with a face like thunder. She slams a can on the table  .. "£7.75 that flipping cost" - I can't 'arf pick em folks.

We dine at Raymond's on Stoney Street, opposite the Angel Microbrewery. It's a tapas restaurant that we've visited before and thoroughly enjoyed. I've saved enough pennies for a repeat visit. We enjoy some crab flatbread, crispy potatoes and salt-aged sirloin. It's washed down with white wine. I go as white as a sheet when presented with the bill.

On Saturday morning I have a couple of coffees and place my football bet before venturing out on the front to do some weeding. Ms Moon very kindly drops me off on Emerys Road as I don't feel like walking after my foot swelled up following another 12 hour shift at the land of the Daily Mail on Friday.

I can hear DJ Dan's set as clear as a bell following an upgrade to the sound system. 'Frankly Mr Shankly' by The Smiths is the tune of the day. I pay £10 on the gate. Today is a First Qualifying Round FA Cup tie against Northern Premier League Cleethorpes Town, who not only play a level above, but also turned over the Mighty Millers twice last season without breaking sweat.

Rumours are rife around Stoke Lane amongst the gossip mongers,sewing circle and Daily Mail readers (Edward) that Sticky's favourite, 'The Carlton Cattermole', is AWOL at a Coldplay concert at Wembley Stadium. If this is true it will be headline news in tomorrow's Non League Paper and Hello magazine.

I get chatting to a Nottingham bus driver, Bart, who is wearing a Radcliffe Olympic football shirt. The club sponsor is post-punk duo Sleaford Mods. I wander over to the far side of the ground to take my place in the 'Malc Brown Stand.' There's a no show in the Cleethorpes dugout from their gobshite manager Craig Rouse. It's no surprise to hear that he has a touchline ban. The clown is stood under the camera tower just a few yards away from Malc and I.

The game is played at a high tempo from the off. Ashley Chambers gives the Millers the lead after nipping in, rounding the keeper and scoring with a left foot shot from a tight angle. Khyle Sargent, who has been nothing short of magnificent this season, makes it 2-0 with a terrific header from a pinpoint Niall Davie free kick. The visitors are shellshocked and Rouse is raging. The Owls fight back. Brave blocks, last ditch tackles and a clearance off the line keep the score intact. It's been a breathtaking 45 minutes of football.

The mood in the clubhouse is upbeat, but these are proper, savvy football folk down here who are well aware that any complacency can't set, in particularly after a 98th minute equaliser was conceded at Long Eaton on Bank Holiday Monday. I didn't speak to Ms Moon for ten minutes, on the way home, when she said "it's only a game babe" as we exited the ground. DJ Dan completes his set with some Northern Soul classics.

Carlton see out the game superbly in the second half. Chambers puts the game to bed with a sublime goal of the highest quality. He curls a shot from 20 yards out that looks to be missing the upright, only for it to catch the wind and draw back in squeezing under the angle of the post and bar. There's been an edge to the game but it's all handshakes after  - even the rarely humble Rouse congratulates Carlton on his socials.

Attendance: 230

Man of the Match: Ash Chambers

Song of the Week: JONNY, Monster Florence

Beer of the Week: Scorching Haze, Black Iris