DUAL DISAPPOINTMENT AT CARLETON RODE SOCIAL CLUB

January 2024. Carleton Rode. Attleborough.

It’s a small world. Two days after visiting the Carleton Rode (pop. 785) Social Club, a remote Norfolk tick,

I actually met someone from Attleborough. On his birthday (it wasn’t 22/12).

He didn’t believe I’d been to Carleton Rode, which sounds like a member of Graham Taylor’s 1993 World Cup qualifiers squad rather than a real place.

Inside the local village hall-cum-bar, a dozen locals were watching football scarcely better than Turner’s turnips, as Trafford United and Spurs showed what football outside the elite looks like in 2023.

Rashford scored, improbably, and a group of lads called Kevin, Kevin and Kevin rose as one.

At the bar, I ignored the beers that get Rode in the Guide and had a rare Adnams Bitter.

“Are you a CAMRA member ?”.

Well, it seems all you need do is order cask to look like CAMRA.

Foolishly, I said “Yes”, flashed a gold card, and was given beer at the members rate of £3.20 a pint.

Enjoy it, m’dear” said the really lovely barmaid.

And I did, though it took a little while for the dryness of the Southwold to emerge (NBSS 3+).

Sweet Child of Mine” made way for “Summer of 69“,

the girls in the corner ignored the boys watching the footy,

it was a Proper Pub atmosphere.

And then Spurs equalised, and the Old Boys, the ones who remembered Greaves and Peters, stood up anc cheered. 2-2, a perfect result for City.

Outside, in pitch black, I could see a second moon.

Or was it ?

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