retiredmartin

January 2025. Gainsborough.

Another month, another dose of non-league football, the perfect respite from the grind of funeral planning and powers of attorney.

Non-league comes in many forms, of course, from the 7th tier semi-pros of Hastings and Macclesfield to the amateurs of Manchester City, whose season ticket prices my occasional seat at the Etihad only £4 more than entrance to Gainsborough Trinity. But they get to take their pints of Exmoor Real Ale to their padded standing position on the Northolme terraces.

814 is a decent crowd, I reckon,

and no more than a third are here to see Robbie Savage’s expensive hair and white coat,

but let’s focus on a game where the ball is in more regular contact with that green thing than it ever was when Robbie Savage played.

Macclesfield were particularly silky (geddit ? geddit !), but Gainsborough weren’t THAT bad.

Will was itching for a quick exit so he could have a third pint back in the Eight Jolly Brewers, which undoubtedly looks better at dusk.

One of the first rules for #PubMen is Never Go For The Beer With The Handwritten Pump Clip,

so I go for the one with a hand written pump clip, something pale from Forest Road of Hackney.

And it’s OK, though you wonder why a pub in Gainsborough is stocking an identikit pale ale from E8.

But you don’t wonder too long, as the train leaves in 15 minutes and Google says it’s 20 minutes walk back to Lea station.

Just as well us #PubMen are the very embodiment of fitness *.

*Exceptions apply