25th January 2020
More random diary entries from Calderdale as Duncan departs for obscure non-league grounds,
and I ended up at a pub with a Subbuteo pitch for company.
But first I found a few more Halifax highlights;
A crowd had asembled outside the Victorian market. I assumed they were waiting for Duncan to appear, but it turned out this was a guided tour. I told you, Halifax is the new York.
The tourists aren’t flocking to Mirfield yet, even if it is the birthplace of Jean-Luc Picard.
Nearly 20,000 souls, but you wouldn’t think so, and the Wiki page is one of the dullest you’ll ever read. The town’s motto is “At least we’re not Dewsbury“.
A fair few entries in the GBG over the years, none of which I can remember; at least the Knowl Club left an impression.
West Yorkshire does clubs better than most. The Knowl is a vast rambling place with a nod to local breweries and a map with instructions on finding the loos, always A Good Thing.
You always expect clubs to be packed with all day drinkers, but I was in the Knowl for half an hour on my own, watching England’s tail-enders put South Africa to the sword.
When it’s just you and a barmaid it can be hard to strike a balance between being sociable and being creepy, so luckily the lass here was just chatty enough to put me at my ease. I do hope some Old Boys tipped up after I left.
“Is there a game on ?” she asked.
“No, Huddersfield have got a day off”
“I mean on the telly”
“Oh, Brentford v Leicester at 12:45”
“That won’t have them coming in off the streets, will it?”
An excellent White Rat (3.5), superbly poured, in old-fashioned hotel bar- like surroundings.
So here it is, West Yorkshire complete. In pink.
BRAPA beat me by a week, and Duncan apparently has one to do in Leeds but I’m sure he’s been there and forgotten; it happens.