For five points, name the player on the floor (above) being skimmed by Derek Dougan, hero of our next Wolves pub.
Pub Curmudgeon knows a thing or two about Heritage pubs, and after the Banks’s tour we headed for one, across what can charitably be called “Salt of the earth Wolverhampton”.
Actually, it passes the exceptional West Park, and within sight of Molineux, one of the few top football grounds in a city centre.
Because they always let City win there (mind, so do West Brom), I welcome the now inevitable return of Wolves to the Premiership next season. Look at this video taken by a Wolves fan tonight.
That reaction to Neves’s goal is pretty much how I felt when I walked in the Stile Inn last Wednesday.
I remembered a basic street corner gem, and it really is unspoilt.
Except for the arrival of seven well-oiled Old Blokes staring at hand pumps simultaneously. Below you see someone, probably a northerner, ordering a Sunbeam rather than The Mild.
This is a retiredmartin sort of a pub, even though it’s strictly in nearly posh Whitmore Reans. Professional drinkers and Old Boys spread out with the papers welcomed us into their Public House.
My good friend Charles stuck to halves so he could note key banter, which seemed to surround the ability of the ladies to “do their own nails“. I thought that was Willenhall.
Several of our group became animated as news that the £2 bowl of stew was more than edible filtered through.
Luckily, even the most well-oiled resisted the temptation to sing along to “Love of my life” by the Dooleys, the most cutting-edge selection on a jukebox which I couldn’t work anyway.
I thought the beer looked, and tasted magnificent (NBSS 4+). You’ll have noticed some sour comments (literally) about the beer in the Borders last week; this was the height of the Brewer’s art. Served at exactly the right temperature too (5 degrees cooler than in West London).
And here’s that beer again, in the art shot.
Wonderful. A little bit of Stockport in the Black Country, perhaps.
And if all that wasn’t enough, there’s a gnome. With a fishing rod.
Breaking into the charity box.