Life is returning to Sheffield. The studentz were dropped off last week, their parents then clogging up the A61 as they drove them to Argos and IKEA to buy the kettles, blankets and pot plants they forgot to bring up from Ilchester and Ipswich.
But even before that, the previous week saw hordes at the station. Yes, a few from Peterborough for the match, but also a collection of the extremes of pubgoing you normally get in Spoons.
Matt and Emma came from Manchester to watch Malevolence do a live filming of their new single, probably an angst-ridden folk tune, and even dragged James along for his first gig since the Junior Disco in Sharm-el-Sheikh.
Mrs RM arranged to meet them at noon for a pre-gig lunch, but after the usual cock-up with timings we found ourselves in the Sheffield Tap with an hour to kill. Again.
Two pints of Moor, two of Roosters, all of them 3.5+, and a sausage roll in a paper bag. Splodgenessabounds wrote a song about it.
This guy was dancing to Splogenessabounds in front of us.
The barman said “It’s a normal weekend in Sheffield”. Possibly in 2019, but I hadn’t seen hen nights and snagged tights and transvestites (that’s Mrs RM’s line, don’t sue me) for a while.
It was great to see, and long may it continue.
But what gives with the cricket obsession ? In Yorkshire ?