More highlights from the programme collection. Today a game which, just like the Eurovision Song Contest (GO Katrina !) EVERYONE wanted England to win. Apparently.
Certainly every male over 60 will remember where they were the Jan The Clown prevented us taking our rightful place alongside Scotland and Zaire at World Cup ’74.
I’ve found you (I think) the Polish commentary of the entire match, with one minor omission from about 59:35. See if you can spot it.
The highlight for beer enthusiasts in the programme is this gamechanger.
Or at least it was when it resurrected as Ind Coope Burton in 1976.
I had no interest in football (or beer) back then, being converted at the age of 11 by Dennis Tueart’s acrobatics that I’m still trying to recreate in my back garden for the BBC.
But I’ll bet the villagers of Laziska Gorne were huddled round the telly cheering wildly as their team of no-hopers (which had just beaten England at home and drew in Holland, incidentally) held on.
Here they are in their quaint little bar in
Laziska is a rambling town of power stations, coal mines and electronics; not quite the Castleford of Upper Silesia, but you know what I mean.
Our Polish friends were keen to take us to the Tyskie Brewery, but as you know I have no love for breweries. I wanted to see pubs.
It took quite some convincing to be allowed instead to venture into their local bars.
The Polish Grandad described them as “unsympathetic“, while I got the impression Mrs RM’s friend Blanka felt them firmly male-only. Mrs RM isn’t scared of anything, though.
The star of the night was Bar Antalek. Sadly, no website/Facebook/Twitter, but the opening hours are on the door and confirm it’s never shut.
This was the Polish equivalent of the boozer in Erlangan that I loved, though lacking the Landbier or aggressive smoking of that gem.
The Tyskie, Zywiec, and Zubr (NPBSS 3.5) were near identical, and with no bottled options in sight. Unlike Stockport, you can’t nip over the road for a Holts or Robbies when you get bored of Sam Smiths here. Only £2 for a pint and two halves mind.
The beer was secondary though. I wanted to know what the locals were saying (they showed no interest in me or the two blondes). The penalty for Bayern’s 3rd ? The possibility of a Christmas supply of Cloudwater DIPA ? The Mother-in-Law’s cooking ?
No, it was apparently a detailed list of their meals that day, and some reflections on their old schools. BRAPA would have loved it, if Simon understood Polish.
Actually, just the sort of crowd you’d get in a Castleford pub, and even cheaper than that WMC in Glasshoughton that once flirted with the Guide.
Across the road we found the ubiquitous “Beer & Pizza” place. I think it’s called Pizza BRAPA.
There were a handful of drinkers in here, and clearly the local pizza parlours serve as bars for the young. I liked this a lot; as an 80s style hangout with MTV and pool it was pretty decent.
In St Neots it would clean up. Alongside the big Tyskie font they had bottles of Ksiazece Golden Ale, which was a revelation.
If I find another Polish football programme I’ll write about (well, steal from previous blogs) the craft beers in Mikolow and Krakow. I know you want that.