retiredmartin

3rd May 2023.

I’ve let Matt use my season ticket for City’s title party, his first time seeing the League trophy lifted. Getting a bit boring now.

A fortnight ago I had two games in a week, and after the walk back from Lowton on the Wednesday I fell asleep in Cathedral Gardens, a sure sign of old age.

Dave asked whether the National Football Museum is worth a visit and it’s certainly an essential trip for United fans wanting to see grainy black and white film of their last League wins. I believe there’s also a collection of all of Blackpool Jane’s confectionery wrappers from away trips.

I must have fell asleep for an hour, and was woke by these two fellas. I believe they’re a species of the duck family.

Manchester was heaving just before six; I really should have popped in Sinclairs but while I can live with the keg stout the plastic glasses don’t agree with me.

Instead I headed for an early tea at Cafe Marhaba in Manchester’s scruffiest alley.

In truth, it’s not as much a bargain as This & That,

but the Special Nihari at £9 with chapatis is, I reckon, as authentic as it comes outside Bratfud. Of which more soon.

Manchester really comes alive on match nights, the pub mascot sellers out in force in Ancoats.

And on a glorious night City moved to pole position against West Ham, despite allowing the Hammers an option of two goals to shoot into.

One downer. With yet more Trans Pennine cancellations I had to leave 10 minutes early and missed Super Phil Foden’s 3rd, but surprised myself with a 27 minute sprint along an empty canal path that allowed me to catch a slightly delayed train home to Sheffield and be back in time for a Doom Bar in the Globe.