It's been a stroll in the park at the Lido Ground for Eastwood CFC as they steamroll over the opposition, Clipstone FC 5-0. We're long gone and cruising down the A614 by the time the referee blows the final whistle. Ms Moon drops me off at the Old Volunteer (Vollo) on Burton Road, just a five minute walk away from our crib. Please don't confuse the Vollo with the pretentious Old Volunteer in Caythorpe village. With its sharing pods and sofas in the pub garden. It's like the set from Love Island.
The 192 year-old Vollo is far more humble and welcoming. It has a vast range of cask ales. Lights, Darks, best bitters and Pales are all available. I opt for a pint of American Candy from Lenton Lane Brewery. I sit on a stool catching up on all the final scores in this afternoon's football. It's my favourite part of the week.
When I arrive home I ask Ms Moon if a date has been set for the funeral of Jimmy King from Emmerdale Farm, as I was thinking of booking time off from work, so I could attend the service, and pay my respects at Hotten Church, in West Yorkshire. She tells me to grow up. Apparently it's a soap opera and not for real. Well, knock me down with a feather.
It's Tuesday evening and I've just polished off a chippy tea from Oceans, which is owned by a big Sky Blues fan. I bet he'll be in the Coventry away end at The City Ground on Saturday evening. I walk to Stoke Lane with Faggsy as the Mighty Millers are entertaining lowly Long Eaton. DJ Murph is on the decks this evening. His set list includes: Glory Box, Portishead, Lullaby, The Cure and Idiot Joy Showland, by The Fall.
The Carlton management team are slowly getting the band back together. Charlie Carter has returned on loan from Mansfield Town. The biggest news though is that club legend Dan Brown is back in the fold as well as his dad, Malc. We love them both to bits.
We lean on the railing, hugging the touchline in the Sir Malcolm Brown stand, located on the far side of the ground. The Millers play football on the front foot. The goal has been coming and what a banger it is too from Nat Watson. I catch up with a few folk that I haven't seen for a while at the break. Biscuit and Jon Gilbert are always good for banter.
Watson, a match winner on his day, looks to have put the game to bed, shortly after the break, with a tap in at the far post, following an inch perfect cross from Jack Thomas. Long Eaton show some spirit and begin to rally the troops. They have knocked on the door and had a few near misses as they get on top. They deservedly reduce arrears from the spot.
They are wide open at the back as they chase the game. A defensive howler sees Watson grab a treble and the match ball. The icing on the cake is complete with a 1-0 win for 'The Lincoln' versus Bristol City, at Ashton Gate.
Wednesday afternoon is spent in the village of Keyworth, where I resided for 45 years. My granddaughter, Romy Palmer, is on top form, once she awakens from her afternoon nap. I leave her watching Mickey Mouse (not to be mixed up with an EMR advert). I manage to grab a quick pint of a Two by Two IPA (Byker, in Newcastle) from the Cock and Hoop, on High Pavement, in Nottingham city centre, before jumping on a bus back to HQ.
At 1pm on Thursday I'm on an EMR train to Grantham. There's no drama nor any power sockets to charge my phone. I've a 15 minute change time before hopping on a LNER high speed train up to York. They are the creme de la creme of rail operators. Following a recent study by the Telegraph only Transport for Wales, GWR, ScotRail and Merseyrail bettered their performance. Cross Country finished bottom of the pile, due to the sickness culture that's widespread in the company.
My brother and I take a wander along the banks of the river Ouse. It's a beautiful autumn afternoon. First port of call is the recently re-opened Wellington Inn, on Alma Terrace, in Fishergate. I love the cosy snugs and historical pictures hanging from the walls.
Samuel Smith's eccentric brewery owner, Humphrey Smith, recently passed away at the age of 81 years old. 16 of their pubs have re-opened since June 2026. I compliment the landlord on the quality of his beer. He asks if I can put a positive review on google. "Sorry mate, but you've banned mobile phones", I jest.
No visit to York is complete without popping into the House of Trembling Madness. I neck a 6% of Verdant's finest craft ale, whilst tapping my feet to the furious drumbeat of Joy Division's Transmission.
Mark and I are up and at 'em early on Friday morning. We're parked up outside the Mallyan Spout Hotel by 10,30 a.m. It's a tricky climb over greasy stepping stones up to the Mallyan Spout Waterfall, which rises from the spring in the moorland above Goathland.
I'm in need of liquid refreshment. In the tiny village of Beck Hole is the wonderful three star CAMRA Heritage pub called Birch Hall Inn. It has a serving hatch and a selection of ales. We enjoy homemade cheese scones, pork pies and beer cake, smothered in butter, outside, in the fresh air. A chatty landlady says that the pub has only had two licencees in the last 94 years.
Goathland has become infamous due to the long-running ITV series Heartbeat. Loyal readers know I used to adore this proper cop shop. I loved it when Sergeant Blaketon used to catch PC Ventress with his feet up having a crafty fag and a cup of tea, when he should have been out and about clocking what stolen goods Claude Greengrass was fencing.
There's a fleeting visit to the town of Selby. We walk past the cathedral on our way to another CAMRA HP called New Inn. We swing by Sainsburys so I can buy a couple of bottles of wine for my brother and sister in-law, for putting me up, or should that be, putting up with me. for a couple of nights.
Another recently reopened Sam Smith's pub called The Tankard, in Rufforth, is ticked off on the way home. Once again the ale is spot on. Mark rustles up a lovely curry as we settle in for the evening. We watch the first half of Brentford v Chelsea. Gogglebox on Channel 4 is far more entertaining.
I'm in Sheffield for midday. The highlight of the train journey was four women from Newcastle cheering that they had booked tickets for a Jimmy Nail concert at Gateshead Glasshouse. It's an 80 minute walk to Hillsborough with a beer stop on the way at The Harlequin. I catch up on the latest news and scores on my phone as I quaff a Cloudwater XPA. Lauryn Hill's brilliant Everything is Everything is played on the jukebox shuffle.
There's so much that catches my eye on the walk to the game, particularly the first-class Sheffield breweries such as Neepsend and Heist. I'm sat in my seat in the upper Kop Stand by 2pm. The DJ plays The Smiths and Stone Roses before warming the crowd up with a Sheffield medley mix of Reverend and the Makers, Arctic Monkeys, Human League and Pulp.
Over 32,000 have rocked up on the back of a 0-0 bore draw last Saturday versus Wigan. The Stockport fans attend in large numbers and it is their team (the Hatters) who swarm all over the Owls. They couldn't hit a cow's arse with a banjo as shots balloon over the bar, go wide of the post, or are cleared off the line. Wednesday play the long and direct game. They gift the ball to the visitors time and time again.
It's hard to say who is more disinterested in the game: two five year old boys mucking about in the seats adjacent to me or Wednesday forward Jamal Lowe. It begins to dawn on me that this is going to end 0-0. Stockport are streets ahead of the Owls, whose only improvement arrives from the bench with the energy and bravery of 17 year-old Harry Gray, who is on loan from Leeds. I can't 'arf pick 'em ... lol.
Attendance: 32,290
Player of the Match: Ben Osborn (could put a cross on a sixpence)
Best Beer I've Drank This Week: Two by Two, Idhao Citra
Best Song Heard on the Dukey This Week: Lauryn Hill, Everything is Everything
Get well soon to one of my best mates xx
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