Anyone who has had the misfortune to read this rubbish, will know that I write about the whole day, technically, as I work nights, I could start by including work, however, before you chuck whatever device you’re reading this on, against the wall in frustration, you’ll be pleased to hear that I won’t be. I don’t take a great deal of notice of the Premier League circus, but discovered that with being on holiday from the hell hole I work in, Wolves were playing Arsenal at home on the Wednesday evening, I could do it, with this knowledge, I jumped on a train to Wolverhampton, sticking my fingers in my ears, so the Black Country dialect didn’t make them bleed, unfortunately/fortunately, delete where applicable, the game was totally sold out, no returns, so returned to Brum, following a fair number of climate change protesters up New Street, I veered off to the Wellington, only Paul Mason was in there, before the rest landed, one by one. I’d had ideas of doing Chorley beer festival on the Friday, Hearts in the final on Saturday, St Helens v Castleford on the Sunday, and then head back, catching the start of the Warwickshire v Surrey championship game on the Monday, but engineering works north of Lancaster on the west coast line that weekend, has put paid to that schedule, so won’t make the final now, and I did look at alternative routes, but the thought of being stuck on a coach for close to 2 hours, killed the desire. I explained it to each ale trailer as they came through the door. Taffy was on form, poking fun at me for wearing a v necked jumper, wanting to know if I had been playing golf, something that wouldn’t take much for me to fall asleep, whilst even being on a course with a club in my hand. Head of Steam was next, Spoons, Phil and the couple from the Rock and Roller (Derby fans) were in there, J.K.s pint looked like a bad stomach, waiting to happen, and although tasting ok, needed a good stir, he went off to change it. We walked passed the new Primark, no, the country’s biggest Primark, no, the world’s biggest clothes shop. That would be impressive, if it wasn’t for it being a shop that sells dirt cheap clothes, I can’t see me ever going in there, unless I’m with someone who wants to go in there, and I will be strongly advising them to shop somewhere else. You get what you pay for in there, not much. We then made use of the vast selection of craft beer in Kilda, I apologised for asking Spoons, but wanted to know how they made sour beer, his learned opinion was it was down to the yeast, the same yeast that makes sour dough bread, other than being slow on the uptake, I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me before. For those who have never tried a sour beer, I suggest trying one, it’s a unique experience. We split up after Kilda, some including Mikey, heading off to the Lamp, the rest, and Mikey’s forgotten bag, headed for Digbrew, vain attempts were made to inform him on the whereabouts of it,
“Spoons looking fetching in his new hat”
There was just time for a last one at Clink, before trudging up the hill, almost for the last time this season.
The kick-off fairies had already completed their duties, by the time I reached my seat, usual apologies expressed to long suffering fellow fans in my block, block being the operative word for what I do to their views, as I shuffle along to my seat. I hadn’t long sat down, before I was getting back up to celebrate the Juke’s 13th of the season, a personal milestone for Mr Jutkiewics, he’d managed to hit 12 goals for the season before several times, but hadn’t been able to make it passed it. He’s had a good season, especially with his total added to by 10 assists, mainly for the 22 goal Che Adams, the only thing that lets him down, is his pace, or lack of, had he possessed that too, he would be in the Premier League and we wouldn’t even been in a position to look at signing him, let alone have the kind of money that bringing him in, would’ve commanded. He’s an intelligent player, who doesn’t hide, when the going gets tough. This game wasn’t far off being a dead rubber, but you wouldn’t have known as half-time came, with 4 goals being shared equally. The second half might not have brought a change to the scoreline, but how and why, it didn’t, I’m not sure. Blues hit the post in one particular scramble, and another mad scramble, had us all scratching craniums, after the ball didn’t make it through the invisible force field, that had stealthy been erected at the interval, in Derby’s goal. I wasn’t disappointed with a draw, we weren’t robbed, and I didn’t feel that we’d been fortunate at any point either, it had been a good game, a game that if points were given for entertainment, both sides deserved 3 each.
Back to the Dog, everyone making use of the glorious holiday weather, by sitting in one of the better beer gardens in Brum. Having spent far too many years in manufacturing, I was able to use the experience and overview in a conversation with the state of it in this country, and what needs to be done, to increase, and safeguard it, post Brexit, with both Ian, and Aida, before calling time, and getting myself off home, I’d toyed with the idea of going straight home after the game, due to lack of sleep anyway, something, I tried to fight off, and almost losing to, on the bus, another pint, and I’m sure I would’ve woken, or been woken up, in Walsall.