Lincoln City 1-1 Bolton Wanderers

The Wigan fans were factually incorrect when they sang "you're getting sacked in the morning" at their crestfallen manager, Ryan Lowe, who was standing only yards away from the Latics following, at Peterborough United's London Road ground. He was in fact sacked in the evening, just hours after the 6-1 shellacking. Wigan supporters drown their sorrows on the 5.30 pm Norwich to Liverpool train. I bump into a Blackburn Rovers fan on his way back from a lunchtime kick off at Carrow Road. He bravely displays gallows humour at a club that has been in freefall for a number of years now.

I was excited for some Tuesday night action at either Carlton Town v Anstey Town or Gedling Miners' Welfare versus Big Glenn's Radford FC. A deluge of rain puts paid to that. I scan the screen listings at Broadway Cinema, where I clock a 5.45pm showing of Saipan. That'll do for me.

The film is about the epic spat and long-running feud between Ireland manager Mick McCarthy and skipper Roy Keane. It all comes to a head in the Western Pacific island of Saipan, prior to the 2002 FIFA World Cup. The film, which includes a masterclass in acting from Steve Coogan and Eanna Hardwicke, does not shed McCarthy nor Keane in a particularly good light.

The final set-to, during a team meeting, is a gripping watch. Keane is asked to pack his bags after a number of tantrums. It's the first time during the film that there has been a show of strength from Big Mick. He comes across as weak and anxious. He won't be happy to have been portrayed that way. All I remember from that time ago was Keane being chased by a pack of Press reporters and photographers whilst walking his Labrador dog, Trigger, close to his home in Cheshire.

I'm back in town on Wednesday, with my backpack on, as I'm on a three day roadtrip. Ms Moon is working down in Brighton, so I'm making hay whilst the sun shines. Actually it's raining again as I push open the door of Slice 'n Brew. Only outside tables are available. Sod that for a game of soldiers. I get lucky at Rudy's where I grab a bar table and a salami pizza with a hot honey dip.

I jump on the 6.45 train to Grantham after a last minute platform change. East Midlands Train staff are utter buffoons - how the chuff didn't I manage to land a job there? I suppose only having one eye might have been a hindrance. I arrive in York bang on time thanks to LNER. The rest of the evening is spent at the Lord Collingwood pub, in Upper Poppleton, where my brother and sister-in-law win the quiz.

One of my hobbies is to visit Good Pub Guide entries. The inclement weather curtails any chance of a walk to a nearby National Trust property. My brother, Mark, and I, head in the car towards the West Yorkshire village of Otley, where former England rugby union player, Mike Tindall, was born. He is married to Zara Phillips, daughter of Anne, Princess Royal.

Otley is a thriving market town that lies on the River Wharfe. It is said to have the greatest number of pubs per head of population. Three will do today for Our Mark and Sticky. The Black Horse Hotel is the pick of the bunch. It has a Victorian interior and a wooden floor. I enjoy a pint of Porter accompanied by a steak and kidney pie that's soaked in gravy. 

I'm up and away, the following day, after a hearty breakfast that's rustled up expertly by Our Kid. I change trains at Leeds and jump on a Northern towards the town of Skipton. I alight at Bingley where I'm met with drizzle and snow that has settled up in the hills. I mentioned to my niece's fella last night that I was visiting Bingley as in the Bradford and Bingley Building Society - he said he'd never heard of them. They became part of the Santander Group in 2008. I tick off three boozers before heading down to Saltaire.

Saltaire is a UNESCO-listed Victorian industrial village. If you love your history it's well worth a visit. It was founded by the industrialist Sir Titus Salt, who built housing for his mill workers. The English painter, David Hockney, exhibits many of his paintings at a gallery in Salts Mill.

I enjoy a few drinks, including a visit to SALT Beer factory, before wandering down to Shipley where I chance upon the pub of the day The Beehive. After a period of closure it reopened in 2023. It's a proper local with a vast range of cask ales available.

I finish the night up in Doncaster, as I wanted to stay somewhere cheap and cheerful on my way to Lincoln, where hotel prices are sky high for a Friday night stay. I check-in at a Premier Inn before making the short walk to Doncaster Brewery Tap House. The room is welcoming and warm. I down a 5.3% pale ale that is a collaboration with a USA brewery. I'm tucked up in bed by 9 pm.

The unlimited breakfast ain't the best folks, but the staff are so attentive and courteous. I change trains at Retford having spoken briefly to a groundhopper from Grimsby who was on his way down south to watch Romford FC versus Great Wakering Rovers in the Essex Senior League.

I chat to an Imps fan from Newcastle on the train station platform. He says he is enjoying the ride and not nervous about today's game. I mention that I've watched Bolton quite a few times in recent seasons, and that they have been poor on each occasion.

I can confirm that Steep Hill is still a bastard to walk up. I'm sweating cobs by the time I reach the summit - well actually it's the newly opened Organ Grinder, a Blue Monkey taphouse that has taken over the former premises of BeerHeadZ on Eastgate. I quaff a pint of Chocolate Orange stout. On my way back down the hill I smirk at kids having tantrums and folk gasping for air as they ascend towards Lincoln Cathedral, that's shining like a beacon in the early afternoon sunshine.

I grab a baseball cap at the superstore. I'm plonked in my seat above the tunnel an hour before kick off. The best track the DJ plays is Turn the Page by The Streets. The Red Imps are on a long unbeaten run. They were bloody awful the last time I saw them at Rotherham United's New York City Stadium. They were missing a few that day and are at full strength today.

The game is a sell out and the atmosphere is electric. Lincoln come out of the traps the quickest. Jack 'Magic Man' Moylan megs a defender, who he then runs around on the inside of, before unleashing a ferocious shot that crashes off the woodwork. Moments later he goes close again. Bolton are rapid on the break. Moylan opens the scoring after a breathtaking move, he nonchalantly guides his first time shot home. Bolton are on the ropes but somehow hang in there. Freddie Draper is strong as an ox and putting a solid shift in, Bolton can't cope with him. Their coach Steven Schumacher spends most of the first half bleating in the ear of the fourth official. To be fair the referee has dished out a few soft yellow cards.

The second half follows a similar pattern. Lincoln are first to every ball and physical in the challenge. It's only when they sub off three exhausted players that we see a change in the pattern of play. Former Imp Ethan Erhahon has a wand of a left peg. He curls in a cross with pace, Sam Dalby does the rest. 22 shots, with 10 on target, count for nothing. Bolton have got out of jail. Their large following will breathe a huge sigh of relief that they have nicked a point.

Attendance: 10,235

Player of the Match: Jack Moylan

Best Song Heard on the Radio This Week: Arlo Parks, 2SIDED

Best Real Ale Supped: Black Forest Gateaux, Sunbeam, from Leeds, in The Beehive, Shipley

Peterborough United 6-1 Wigan Athletic

I'm enjoying my football-free weekend. Ms Moon and I exit Broadway Cinema, in Hockley, Nottingham on Saturday teatime. We've just watched the Oscar nominated Hamnet, whose production team includes Steven Spielberg and Sam Mendes, who was born in Reading, if you're asking. We're baffled and bamboozled by the 'modern English language' that's used in the final 15 minutes of the film, when Shakespeare's play Hamlet is re-enacted.

We part company at the bus stop outside the Fox and Grapes, at the very spot where the body of pub landlord, George Wilson, was discovered in 1963. Named as the 'Pretty Windows Murder' the case still remains unsolved. 

I slope off over the road to the King Billy. I nurse a pint of Snake Eyes from the Black Iris Brewery. The rugby is on the TV set. Nobody seems particularly interested; I'm certainly not. My phone has been switched off whilst I was at the cinema. I boot it up to check on the final scores. Lincoln City and Notts County are both victorious again. Tony Mac is up at Fleetwood; he'll be loving that.

I'm back down Meadow Lane again on a wet and freezing cold Tuesday evening. I've five layers of clothing on, including some thermals. Gareth Ainsworth's Gillingham are in town. County are on a hot winning streak. I check the team news on my phone. I'm gutted to read that both Jodi Jones and Alassana Jatta are notable absentees. It will be a battle without them as 'Wild Thing's' teams are always physical and uncompromising. 'Over and Over' by Hot Chip is the pick of the bunch of a decent pre-match DJ set.

The Pies are well backed by a vocal Kop End. They are soon on top and take the lead through their fiery Scottish midfielder Scott Robertson, following some pitiful defending by the Gills. Ainsworth, dressed in a bomber jacket, tight jeans and some brown boots is straight down the tunnel at half time, to give his troops the hairdryer after a lacklustre first half.

I sit with former player, Tim Wilkes, in the second half. He made a handful of appearances for the Magpies during the Sam Allardyce era before suffering from serious injuries. Debutant, Lee Ndlovu, fluffs his lines to put the game to bed for the Pies. There's an extraordinary grand finale when 'keeper James Belshaw is called upon on three occasions to keep the Gills attack at bay, with a series of spectacular point blank saves.

It's Thursday morning and I'm back on my old patch in the village of Keyworth. I'm 62 years old today and the best birthday present I've ever received arrived a few weeks ago. Her name is Romy Palmer. She's my granddaughter and melts my heart. I have a cuddle for 90 minutes before she falls asleep in my arms.

I alight the bus, on the journey home, at Musters Road junction in West Bridgford. I wander down to Trent Bridge Cricket Ground. I think of times back in the 1980s when I used to go to a nightclub called Harvey's Bar, that was located on this very road. I used to stalk the DJ with requests for The Smiths or Echo and the Bunnymen, when all the Herbert was interested in playing was Wham or Five Star. 

I sit with Faggsy at the Notts Cricket Lovers' Society meeting. The first speaker is Kirstie Gordon, who is the captain of The Blaze and a Scottish international. The second half of the meeting is a question and answer session with Director of Cricket, Mick Newell, and opening batter Ben Slater. I always find Newell witty and engaging, even if I don't agree with everything he says, or decisions he makes. We finish up the evening on Carlton Hill top with Ms Moon and her brother for some more birthday scoops. It's a Vegas mini kebab for supper.

To celebrate both our February birthdays I've booked a table at The Ivy on Bridlesmith Gate in town. They've got an offer on, so why not? Whilst Ms Moon is still at work I enjoy some real ales with Tony Mac up in the Canning Circus area of town, at: Organ Grinder, a newly painted Sir John Borlase Warren and a rejuvenated Hand and Heart on Derby Road.

I'm pleasantly surprised at how good The Ivy is. The building was formerly Hugo Boss and before that Cafe Rouge. It's tastefully renovated and has a lovely ambience too. The food is delicious and served with a smile. Two blokes, sat nearby with their partners, are glued to their phones watching Leeds United v Forest. I don't know who is more irked and annoyed by this: Sticky Palms or Sean Dyche. As we walk through the rain soaked streets towards the bus stop, I hear Isolation, by Joy Division, blasting out of a cocktail bar called Neon, on Weekday Cross. Ms Moon tells me to calm down as I get overexcited to hear such a great random track.

It's rained cats 'n dogs all week in Nottingham and it's proper got me down folks. What's even more annoying is seeing ITV News 'weatherman' Alex Beresford smirking in the studio or sheltering in some posh garden centre in Surrey. As soon as the sun's out this nincompoop is strutting his stuff whilst posing on Brighton Pier or the Eden Project. A whiff of rain or a gust of wind and you'll find the charlatan under cover. 

I made a call yesterday on which game to go to. It's highly unlikely that the Carlton v Belper game will go ahead (I was wrong). I've enjoyed visiting the old school Football League grounds again. I message a close friend called Ackers, who lives in Whittlesey, near Peterborough, to see if he fancies Posh v Wigan. I catch a late morning train to Norwich that stops in Peterborough in just over an hour. Ackers and I embrace at the station. We have both suffered with our eyesight in recent years. It's the blind leading the blind as we walk up to the ground to buy some tickets.

With time to spare we wander up to Old Fletton where we tick off Wonky Donkey, a  local CAMRA City Pub of the year in 2025. We're perched up in the Upper Meerkat Stand half an hour before kick off. Some Wigan fans I met on the train predicted that the Latics, managed by under fire Ryan Lowe, would be 2-0 down within ten minutes. It was actually nine minutes with a brace of gift wrapped goals coming from Kyrell Lisbie (son of former Charlton striker, Kevin). 

Luke Williams' Posh threaten to run riot, but remarkably a slip in defence sees a cross tucked into the corner of the net by the hard-working Joe Taylor, who I rate highly. It's Posh that are now under the cosh, but again when your luck is down things can go wrong. Chelsea loanee, J J Morgan, races onto a ball over the top, he lifts it over the 'keeper only to see it bounce off the bar. He wins a race to the ball to head home the rebound. The visiting fans direct their venom towards Lowe, who hangs his head in shame, as they sing "you're getting sacked in the morning." (it will probably be this evening).

Wigan enjoy a lot of possession early in the second half. But fall apart by conceding three more goals in the final 20 minutes. I don't think Lowe will even bother to catch the team bus home.

Attendance: 8,443

Player of the Match: Kyrell Lisbie

Best Record Heard on the Radio This Week: SAULT, Good Things Will Come After the Pressure

Favourite Real Ale Supped This Week: Marble Beers, Up All Night, at The Embankment

Notts County 2-1 Swindon Town

I exit Bramall Lane with seconds remaining. The Blades are head and shoulders above anything Ipswich Town have to offer. They've hassled, harried and tackled all over the pitch. It's only on my walk back to Sheffield railway station that it dawns on me that my train is to Norwich and that it will call at Peterborough and Ely.

It's standing room only on the EMR 17.40 to Nottingham and yes, it's full of whinging, bleating Tractor Boys (what about the girls?) fans. The manager has lost the plot according to them. They have too many round pegs in square holes, with injuries to key players too. It's a relief to alight in Nottingham 50 minutes later.

Ms Moon and I breakfast up at the Old Flower Shop on Mapperley Top, late on Sunday morning. They do a decent fry up that will hopefully set me up for the day. I'm going to need it, as I'm out in the afternoon and into early evening. Tony Mac and I have made a late call to attend Beat the Streets, a music festival that brings Nottingham music fans together to raise funds for the homeless. Over £500,000 has been raised in the last seven years.

I collect my wristband just shy of 2 pm at East Midlands premium music venue, Rock City. We stand with Casually Dan, his wife Katy and Daz, a Notts County and Carlton Town fan, who also sings in an Oasis tribute band. There's a great underground scene in Nottingham right now. The band who impresses me the most are called The Rossettis, who play at Rock City Beta. They remind me of early Babyshambles. 

Bloodworm play the main stage at Rock City. They've really pushed on since I first saw them a couple of years ago. Chris Hawkins has been plugging their new single on his early breakfast show on 6Music and they have also been supporting Suede on their recent tour. The final band we watch are high energy rock outfit Marvin's Revenge, who play a superb set to a large and appreciative crowd. They list Sonic Youth and early Pixies as some of their early influences. Ms Moon is watching Celebrity SAS when I arrive back at HQ. I ask if that big baby Graeme Swann has left the building yet. She says he has. He has form for clocking off early.

I've been invited down to Meadow Lane by a former MSR Newsagents delivery driver called Barry, who I get along well with. I meet him outside the Meadow Lane Sports Bar where he has just had a pint and some tea. Barry's an interesting character who has a fantastic CV. He's been a pub landlord at three different hostelries in inner city Nottingham, as well as running a chip shop on Haydn Road. He was also a lorry driver for many years.

The game tonight has the makings of a classic. Notts have picked up six points from their last two fixtures, whilst the Robins have lost their last three games including an FA Cup defeat to in-form Salford. Swindon are excellent for the first 20 minutes. They fashion a chance when a header flashes wide of the County post after a cross is whipped in from the left.

The Pies begin to get on top. Jodi Jones is skinning his full back alive. He sees a shot thunder off the underside of the bar and onto the opposite post. It's hit with such venom that it forces the net to shake. Jatta has a header acrobatically saved by the 'keeper. Swindon take the lead against the run of play in sensational style, with a vicious volley from the edge of the box by Ollie Clarke finding the back of the net. County respond immediately through Jatta.

Matthew Dennis wins the game for Notts after only being on the pitch for 15 seconds. But it takes a brilliant save from James Belshaw to thwart a Swindon attacker in the dying embers of the game, to ensure victory. Ian Hollway gives a great post match interview where he compliments both the Club and Pies fans. He is generous in defeat, but they were well beaten in the second half.

I bought a £10 return train ticket to Birmingham at Christmas in the Rail Sale. There's nothing much doing on Thursday so that's the day to visit Brum. I swing by my Italian cafe for a coffee and a bacon roll. It's full of Ferencvaros fans who are here for the Europa League fixture at The City Ground this evening.

Once I reach New Street I jump on a train to Kidderminster. Time isn't on my side as it's an advanced ticket that has to be used by 4pm, so I'm pretty annoyed that my West Midlands train has a fault on it. I alight at Cradley Heath and walk up a steep incline towards Brierley Hill.

Victoria Cross recipient, Anthony Clarke Booth, is laid to rest in the local churchyard. His VC was awarded during the Zulu War. He was born in Carrington, in Nottingham, where one of my favourite haunts, The Gladstone is located.

The purpose of the visit is to tick off my 310th two star or three star CAMRA Heritage pub. After a long slog up the hill I come across the Vine Inn, a Batham's brewery tap. I squeeze into a traditional front bar room that has an air of vibrancy and order up a pint of mild.

There is a staggering choice of rolls, cobs and pies to choose from, but I'm still full from breakfast. A pub regular sporting a The Stranglers baseball cap, boasts that he's seen the band 17 times in the last 12 months. I have a shufty about the place. There are plenty of other rooms for folk to sit in. There's time for a quick pint up the road at The Bell Inn before returning to New Street. I have a swift craft ale at Cherry Reds, an independent cafe bar, a stone's throw away from the station

I promised Ms Moon a football free weekend, as we didn't have much of a Christmas, due to the good lady being laid up with a slipped disc, which left her in severe pain and a lot of distress. We do pop down Carlton Town Football Club on Friday evening to support Casually Dan and Unders in their community coming together called 'The Shed End Presents', which includes a live band and folk playing their favourite vinyl. I sup a couple of pints of Liquid Light's delicious Starburster as we watch the excellent Alex and The Christopher Hale Band. We both don't recognise some of the vinyl people are spinning, but that's what it's all about, introducing new music and old bands to one and all.

On Saturday morning I enviously look on social media at Millers fans on their travels to watch Carlton play away at Wellingborough Town's Dog and Duck ground. Ms Moon and I jump on the 27 bus into town. We enjoy lunch at Delilah's, an indie deli on Victoria Street. Sue enjoys wild garlic mushrooms on toasted sour dough bread with a fried egg sat on the top.

Due to Hamnet having received 8x Oscar nominations, it has returned to the screens at Broadway Cinema. When I booked tickets there was a spare seat next to me. Thirty seconds before screening a bearded man with wild hair inches his way down the row, annoying cinemagoers. He has two backpacks that would see him to the summit of Mount Everest and back down again, In one of his plastic shopping bags is the board game Buckaroo. I remark to Ms Moon that he better not set it up as it will make one hell of a racket. He noisily gnaws his way through a packet of pumpkin seeds, instead, much to my chagrin.

The film has a two hour running time and is excellent. We're both a wee bit confused with the ending, but hey, it's Shakespeare innit. Irish actress, Jessie Buckley, will definitely be in the running for best actress. Ms Moon can't 'arf pick 'em.

Attendance: 8,931

Player of the Match: Ollie Norburn

Best Song Heard on the Radio: Bloodlust, by Bloodworm (Bauhaus/Cure esque)

Real Ale of the Week: Two by Two, New England Pale, from Newcastle