Chronicles of the Berkshire Pig: Bricking It

Kirton Brickworks v Watnall Athletic. Pre-Season Friendly.

As every true football fan knows, the European Championships are the traditional curtain raiser to the Nottinghamshire Senior League pre-season friendlies. However, this year the support act is still on stage despite the headline band also being present for the last two weeks.

Feeling sorry for the likes of Republic of Ireland vs Belgium having to compete with AC Wollaton v Sneinton Town, I have stayed away from these friendlies until now. Speaking of which, how come Rushcliffe Leisure Centre can safely prevent hoarders of marauding Russians from breaking down the segregation and lighting up killer flares, yet UEFA, with its zillions, can't? Yet another thing Europe can learn from The Brits.

So my chosen game was Kirton Brickworks v Watnall Athletic, which my extensive research revealed was being played somewhere near Mansfield.

A relatively sociable 0841 start off Sowerby meant the Jubilee Refreshment Rooms in the background was already open and serving. However, a surprising show of temprance saw me forego go them.....

....to take in one of the new 'Famous people from Sowerby' 'Relatively noteworthy people from somewhere near Sowerby', station information boards. Not many opera singers have a birthplace as 'Bethal Terrace'.

Into Leeds and onto a Sheffield service, with a Trans Pennine unit in their new livery passing behind.

The service is advertised as Sheffield via Barnsley. My mates and I are convinced that no one in the history of Yorkshire has ever spoken the word Barnsley, without prefixing it with 'Fucking'. It is either used in a prejorative tense; 'Are you out on Friday?' 'No I've got a job on at Weigh n Save in Fucking Barnsley, or it is used as a term of surprise; 'Terry copped off with a right tidy lass at Dollars on Saturday, she was from Fucking Barnsley'. Either way, the two words are bedfellows.

The journey was a multi leg affair across the Northen Rail network, the next change being at Sheffield. A plus 7 connection saw a man-of-steel move for a pint at the legendary station tap, thwarted by it not yet being open. If you can resist the distraction of a Northern 142, the Tap is housed in the former first class refreshment room/Red Star parcels office, the brewing plants is visible through the windows on the right.

My next move was my own bit of four-wheels-on-your-waggon action, this time a 144. An added bonus was my service on to Worksop was hosting the South Yorkshire heats of the UK sniffing championships. A combination of hay fever/summer colds/shit coke, meant there was fierce rivalry as each competitor resolutely refused to blow their noses and only a couple bowing out by taking the phlegm back into their throats, gobbling it on the floor, then trying to rub out the evidence with the ball of their Air Max IIIs.

Into Worksop and a Pacer fest with another departing in the distance.

At last my sobriety was broken as a +23 gave the opportunity to head for the on station Mallard, for a Double Top - Summer Ale and a Burton Town - Thomcat.

Back onto the station and crossing over to my train I was greeted with this on the platform. Has there ever been a greater article of clothing in the history of mankind? I immediately ordered a selection of bar towels off eBay and am getting measured up on Monday. Results to follow.

Back on the platform and my East Midlands train onwards, paralleled by an engineer’s spoil train heading westbound.

The route down to Mansfield is part of the 'Robin Hood Line' which was re-opened in the mid nineties. The line, similar to other lines such as Ebbw Vale, was one where a passenger service didn't operate, not through lack of demand, but instead due to its intensive use by freight traffic, in this case the Nottinghamshire coal industry.

The line embraced a variation of the BR double arrow symbol, utilising archers arrows. Although this staions sounds more like a solicitors.

However, the imminent demise of BR meant the symbol became redundant, despite being immortalised in block paving.

Into Mansfield and Field Mill sits adjacent to the station.

Despite pertaining to be a brewing town, Mansfield has always been a desert for drinking. Over the last few years, the town has had three Guide pubs. Solidly, these have been two Whetherspoons within spitting distance of each other, and a Hungry Horse. Yes, that's right, a Hungry fucking Horse. In the Guide. Fortunately these Doombar Meccas have now been joined by three new entries.

First stop was the Railway Inn opposite the station.

The plus points of the pub were Nethergate IPA at £1.50 a pint....

....served on wooden tables engraved with steam trains

The minus points were the beer being rank, and it taking ten minutes to get served due to some UTTER FUCKING CUNT ordering coffee and the barmaid having to go and buy milk.

Moving on to the Beer Shack, a micro bar situated under the railway viaduct that dominates the town centre. A Dow Bridge - Summer Light was had. For a micro bar with some very diverse beers, it was strange to see Greene King - Abbott on one of the sticks.

Next was to the excellent Brown Cow, a short walk out of town. This is one of the Everards experimental pubs. They have been buying up dud pubs, then leasing them to small breweries who then serve a mix of their own and the Everards range.

This one is the Raw tap and had an outstanding range on. I remained loyal with a Raw - Ranzau, a surmising lay effective Kolsch under their hopjacker brand, and then a Raw - Baby Ghost IPA.

Mansfield's claim to fame used to be that it was the largest settlement in England without a railway station. The re-opening of the railway, and the title being passed to Chard in Somerset, means Mansfield now has nothing interesting about it. This was until the referendum, when suddenly it gained this notoriety.

Next stop was the White Lion, which was intriguing as it describes itself as being located in a natural cave. Sure enough, this was the case. What I wasn't expecting was it to be managed by a team of teenage goths, and be populated by flaked out thirty somethings. Upon sorting a ??? - Surrender, I was immediately quizzed on whether I was from Northampton, this seeming to be the place those in the bar associated with the south. On retorting no, I am from Reading, living in Swindon but currently decamped to Halifax, the subject moved on to EU membership. Despite reassuring them I was soundly in the remain camp, I was then given reason based on finance, beer price, race, religion and almost all logic about why we shouldn't leave the EU. I have to say, I hadn’t considered the Goth demographic and their voting preferences, but it was heartening to see some sense amongst the young in a hostile town. I may yet get into Fields of the Nephilim.

Time had come to take in the splendour of Mansfield bus station, for a Stagecoach East Midlands service.

Mansfield was previously at the heart of the Notts coal scene, and it wasn't far out of town before scars of previous glories appeared.

My next stop off was the large village of Edwinstowe. The village is attached to Thoresby Colliery, one of the last active mines in the area, until it too shut last year.

The village centre was actually quite pleasant, and hosted two Guide pubs. The first was the horrific Black Swan, which had one ale on, a very poor Muirhouse – Hat Trick.

Got that?

The village sees itself as the centre of the Robin Hood legend, so all businesses have puns on the name. Robin hood Plaice just about works, but Pizza Hood????

On to the second GBG, the Forest Lodge which was a definite improvement, and a Welbeck Abbey – EPA was cleared.

It was then back onto the bus.

On-board was littered with adverts for the imminent increase in the minimum wage. Credit to the design agency, they could have fallen into the trap of using stereotypes to illustrate those it might effect, but instead have used a black, female nurse. That’s alright then.

After an almighty rain storm, I was at my stop, an industrial estate just outside Ollerton.

The industrial estate consisted of a burger van and a hand car wash….

….and the Nottingham elite fight academy. British industry at its best.

As ever, the B road grass verge walk of shame unearthed a myriad of treasure. Typical example being a dog basket.

The turning for the football showed other enticing destinations. The Beth Shalom Holocaust Centre or the Laxton charity gymkana and dog show were very tempting.

The road was called Cocking Hill, which sounds like the shit sort of almost swearing they do on Top Gear.

Eventually I reached the ground.

With the host premises locked up for the weekend, it was an ascent of a freshly dampened grass bank.

As the Ref watches on stretching, I checked out the PPE regulations, but was disappointed to find out we didn’t have to comply with the Mr Ben meets the Venga Boys that is seemingly required for the workers.

Kirton Brickworks 6 v Watnall Athletic 2, Pre-season Friendly.

Kirton Brickworks are quite straightforwardly, the football team of the brickworks at Kirton. After having had a previous dalliance with it under its Notts Alliance guise, they currently play in the Notts Senior League. The last few seasons has seen them join the Senior league, rise up to the senior division, but finished bottom and were then bottom of division 1 last season. A potentially pyrrhic win in the AGM cup means they remain in division 1 for the forthcoming season. Great badge though.

Watnall Athletic are new on the scene, having only been formed in 2013. Rather mesmerically, they were immediately accepted to, and winners of, the Midland Amateur Alliance, and were promoted to the Notts Senior League where they have been in division 2 for the last couple of seasons.

The best tea bar for some time, saw hot drinks for 50p and individual Mr Kipling pies for 20p each.

The picnic area gave a great view of the home side warming up by aimlessly punting balls to all parts of Nottinghamshire, apart from the goal six foot infront of them.

All too soon the new season was underway…..

……and within 15 seconds, the away side were in front.

I returned to the main stand, ie a park bench concreted behind one of the goals.

I then decided to take in some of the many sights of the ground. First of all the huge brick store behind one goal.

The line-up of crane fitted lorries down one touchline.

A wander up the far goal saw the home team equalise with a very soft goal.

The rest of the touchline was difficult going as the grass cuttings had been dumped there, making it the opposite of hard standing.

It was starting to rain and sheltered under a tree, I got to see the home side take the lead with an even softer free kick, seen across the entrance gates.

These large bags seemed like the best seating in the ground…

….and I spent a few attacks half watching the game and half learning about the soft landing lorry bag system.

By now it was pissing it down.

So much so the linesman demanded use of one of the subs training tops.

My first refuge was between two lorries, but I could only see about 10 foot of the pitch.

This seemed more promising…….

….and after a second round at the tea hut, I watched the remainder of the half from here.

By half time, Kirton had added another and the weather had cleared.

Refreshment for the teams being tea from massive steel jugs.

The second half saw the same rate of scoring, and the very enjoyable game finished 6-2. I headed back into the village, under the railway which was formerly a colliery branch and now is actually a test track for the new IEP trains.

A pleasant stroll across a cabbage field…..

….took me to my bus stop.

This is a four a day service to Retford, which saw only one other person on the bus.

He departed at the first stop, and was sporting a belting NCB branded waterproff.

With only one other passenger joining me, we arrived into Retford bus station.

Extremely crap train connections, meant I had two hours to take in the evening delights of Retford. I cleared the three Guide Pubs. Firstly the Brick and Tile with a Three Tigers – Golden.

Then the appallingly named Beer HeadZ, which fortunately had an amazing slection on tap. My choice was a Siren – Vermont Tea Party.

Then off guide at the Idle Valley Tap for a Chantry – Steelos.

Lastly, back on guide at the Rum Runner, a Batemans tie…

… which inevitably meant that the England expects had been rebranded to We’ve blown it. It was vaguely amusing the first time, now it is just shit beer.