Cobblers Frozen Off

The Saturday before Christmas is not generally one of the better times to be travelling as it tends to be the day a lot of people go home for the break but King's Cross was very quiet considering.

Meanwhile, just over the road at St Pancras it was all tears and disappointment as all the Eurostar services had been cancelled and the place was packed with disgruntled travellers.

Despite the wintry weather conditions affecting the chunnel and the rest of the country, the trains on the east coast all looked to be running on time. Martin and I joined John and Bev in coach G.

They'd come armed with bags of cards and stamps as they attempted to make good use of their time on-board. It was interesting to see just how fractious such an innocent past-time could become. The Transport Police were put on standby...

Of course we were well aware of the 9am inspection for today's game and we'd not long pulled out of Peterborough station when Chris rang through with the news we'd been expecting - the game was off.

Unfortunately for Martin this meant waiting until we reached Doncaster before he could get off and get a train back south, hopefully without incurring further expense.

Liz rang - Rotherham's home game had also bitten the dust following a pitch inspection but since the London Millers leave London relatively late, they'd not even reached Stevenage and so were all returning back to London without a great deal of inconvenience.

I was happy to continue northwards safe in the knowledge that there'd be a few DAFTS in Darlo happy to go drinking instead. Given the recent run of results and the injuries we have, it would be nice to know we weren't going to lose this weekend.

On arrival at Bank Top I left John and Bev and headed straight into town - a quick stop for pies in the covered market and then over to the QuakerHouse.

Now as far as some of we brave casketeers (© Viz) are concerned, the problem with this time of year is the huge number of Christmas ales that are produced, all with a regulation humorous name and jolly pump clip.

And it's all a bit of a lottery as to what sort of pint you're going to get - will it taste of Christmas pud, all fruity and rich - which is not my idea of beer - or be a cinnamon bomb that more resembles a joss stick?

(left) Neil's festive egg and twiglet combo

I generally avoid them but today in the Quaker it seemed everything but the stout (Black As Owt from Ferryhill's Yard of Ale brewery) was a festive-themed ale.

We had Jingle Fells (Hawkshead), Three Kings (York), Rudolph's Ruin (Springhead) and Winter's Yard (Yard of Ale) and Christmas Carol (forgotten the brewery) . To be fair I tried the Three Kings and it was OK. The Rudolph's Ruin was more or less an ordinary beer in the usual Springhead style.

It wasn't long before I was joined by Tony and Brian - and then Neil came in after he'd finished Harry's Xmas shopping. And then finally John and Bev completed today's little group of Darlo-ness having posted their cards.

We had a good try of most of the beers - at one point Milton Dioynosus was put on which is a very quaffable beer from Cambridgeshire.

Neil then went for a pickled egg and with the addition of two twiglets produced a festive reindeer-shaped snack. He's been in Norway too long...

Next stop was Number Twenty-2 which was busy with festive shoppers. It was good to see that they had Westoe's IPA from the Jarrow brewery - an excellent beer like most of their stable, nice and hoppy - the beer of the day for me.

(left) Please, can I have some more?

Tony then got us all some stout for the next round - there is always a decent stout in No 22 and today it was Goose Eye's Over and Stout.

Unfortunately we found it to be disappointing - not the type of stout we normally like and in the end I didn't finish it and went straight back onto the IPA.

And then the final port of call was up to the Brittania - I only ever seem to come here when games have been postponed which is a shame but I'm just too lazy to do three pubs pre-match under normal circumstances

(left) Neil with yet another snack

I only had time for a pint and then I had to get back to Bank Top for my train home.

On walking through the market square to the station, large heavy snowflakes were starting to fall - a good time to get out of town...

E Numbers

I'd made the decision to not travel to Torquay more or less at the start of the season - a lot of my fellow fans like this trip for an away weekend but personally I don't think the pubs there warrant the travelling.

So instead I'm hooking up with my London Miller chum, Chris, to try out a few pubs in sunny east London.

The first point of call for the day is the King William IV in Leyton - a pub Steve Duffy and I tried out a few years ago before a midweek game against Orient.

(left) King William IV

In those days it was OK but nothing special.

These days though it's a high profile pub in the area as it's home to Brodie's Beers which is run by Jamie and Lizzie, the brother and sister brewing team that operate from the old Sweet William brewery at the rear of the pub (which coincidentally was run by John Wilson's chum Eddie).

It's a big old pub, quite dark inside with two big rooms - the rear having an enormous buffalo head on the wall (as you do).

There was a pretty impressive array of pumps on display, all serving a myriad of Brodie's beers along with a cider and perry on hand pump.

Also impressive is the cost of a pint - £1.99 for all their own beers which includes the Romanov Empress stout, a 12% monster of a beer. Perfect prices for these recessionary times (but don't tell the prohibitionist lobby).

The TVs in the front room are turned on for the Sky match - which turns out to be the less-than-exciting Stoke -v- Wigan - and it's noticeable that a few of the regulars slip away to the back room to escape it.

The beers we try are all on excellent form - English Best, Sunshine, Orient, IPA and Special - much as you'd expect given they've not had that far to travel.

Once the Sky game is over, we depart and wander along the High Road, across the Lea Bridge Road and head up towards Walthamstow village.

The village is a little area of tranquility and poshness in E17 and it's quite spooky. We're heading to the Nags Head but it turns out we taken a wrong turn.

Luckily for us this means that we come across the East London Sausage Company and we wander in to peruse their range of home-made sausages. Quite a large choice on offer - I go for the 1920's recipe bangers which look nice and plump.

They also put us right in our search and before too long we're arrived at the Nags Head.

(right) Children - know your place!

What strikes me on arrival is the number of signs geared towards parents, all telling them what to do with their children and their buggies.

A subsequent perusal of the pub's BITE entry suggests this isn't the most child-friendly pub - clearly they've had their fill of yummy mummies (and daddies) - and the little darlings are not allowed in the pub, only outside in the heated garden.

On entering the pub, it's apparent that they're expecting a big group - rows of champagne glasses all waiting to be filled up. It turns out a wedding party is expected to drop in for a few drinks.

The Nags Head is totally different place to the more earthy King William - light-coloured wooden walls, comfy chairs, posters advertising in-house activities such as life-drawing and Egyptian dancing.

(left) Nags Head, Walthamstow Village

I'd like to think this latter class resembles Wilson, Keppel and Betty at their finest but somehow I doubt it.

There's a respectable range of beers on offer - Taylors Landlord; St Austell Tribute; Nethergate Suffolk Bitter; Mighty Oak's Oscar Wilde and Maldon Gold and their house beer, Itinerant.

This last beer turns out to be produced by Nethergate and is brewed for the pub to celebrate the late pub cat, Tetley. In fact the pub recently had a feline-themed beer festival. They like cats and won't have kids in the bar - this should be my sort of pub.

As we settle into our pints, the expected wedding party arrives and the pub goes from a quiet, library-like calm to a chatty maelstrom of air-kissing and how-do-you-dos. We hang around to watch it all and have another pint - some of the other regulars find it all a bit much though and depart.

However there's only so much jollity and such like that we can take and we decide to wander back down Orford Road to the Village.

On offer were three from Adnams - Bitter, Broadside and Explorer - and GK IPA. Not very inspiring.

Chris and I both opt for the Explorer and settle down to watch the football scores come in. The beer is not up to much - it has minimal condition and looks extremely flat and listless - and frankly it's a struggle to drink.

Even more disappointing is the latest score from Plainmoor - Torquay 5, Darlington 0! Oh dear oh dear. Happier news though for Chris as the Millers have won with a couple of late goals at Valley Parade.

We decide that the beer isn't worth bothering with and leave it. We wander back to Lea Bridge Road where we pick up the 69 bus which takes us to Leyton tube. From here we travel a couple of stops to Mile End.

I drag Chris through the streets of Bow until we reach Roman Road market - unfortunately Kelly's pie and mash shop is shut so we head straight to the Eleanor Arms.

As well as the usual Shepherd Neame choices, there is a Sheps Xmas ale and the guest beer is Old Hooky so I settle for that. Very nice.

Landlord Frankie eventually shows his face - I last saw him rather worse for wear at the end of the Pig's Ear festival a couple of weeks ago.

Whilst we have a few further pints (bottles of Otley's O-Garden for me), a few musicians wander up and perform a few tunes - not many people in to appreciate them though. We're right in the firing line and whilst it's not really our cup of tea, we applaud politely before calling it a day and heading home.

The sausages were eaten the very next day and were absolutely fabulous. I'll be going back for more...

Oh No It Isn't!!

For the second time in two days I was in Darlo though today promised a higher level of entertainment as I took my sister and nieces to see Aladdin at the Civic Theatre.

Before that, the girls went shopping which left me enough time for a quick stiffener at the Quakerhouse where the staff were busy putting up Christmas decorations.

I had a pint of Wenleydale Brewery's Sheep Rustler which was a nut brown ale - something which you don't see too often but it was very smooth and silky.

Just as I was supping up a new beer was put on, the wonderfully titled Cyril The Magnificent from High House Farm brewery. Judging from the label this was a dunkel weisse and Cyril is a cat.

But as we know we shouldn't judge by labels as the beer was far from dunkel - in fact it was a fairly straight-forward impression of a weisse beer and not at all dark. Soft and smooth but not wheaty enough for my tastes.

And so onto the panto - my first proper panto ever and it has to be said I only really want to see this one as the Grumbleweeds are appearing.

The Grumbleweeds are in many respects a relic of the 70s - a comedy troupe from the club circuit doing impressions and telling dodgy jokes - and northern too of course - but we used to love their radio shows which ran from 1979 to 1988 on Radio 2 and characters such as Uncle nasty and Wilf 'Gasmask' Grimshaw. Believe me, it was funny - honest.

Appearing with them was Chico who more represents the modern-day breed of panto artiste - which tend to be soap 'stars' or the winner/runner-up of some modern-day reality show - at least he should keep the ladies happy.

Should we ever have cause to go back to Kenilworth Road and I complain about the seats, just say "Civic Theatre". There's hardly any legroom and I'm almost bent double and you all know that I'm not the world's tallest person. I'm sure Justice Taylor wouldn't be impressed.

It's only the third full performance of the show and the occasional line is fluffed or forgotten but my youngest niece loves it all the same.

Then following one song and dance scene, Widow Twanky comments that she's not enjoyed herself so much "since Darlington last won at home".

And there we have it - Darlo are once again music-hall material just like the old days...

It's Panto Season...

As I was up on my annual pre-Christmas trip to see the family in Northallerton, I was able to have a lie-in and still be in Darlo by 9:30am. This early start was to allow Tony the chance to take me somewhere for breakfast.

We settled on the cafe which sits above the covered market and overlooks High Row. The full breakfast was excellent - good to have a bit of fried bread for a change - and it was nice to eat whilst watching everyone rushing around doing their Christmas shopping.

Once fueled, we have a leisurely stroll around town and pop along to get some pies for Howard and Martin who were travelling up from King's Cross.

And then having exhausted shops to wander in as we try to waste time, we get to the Quakerhouse about 10:55am - they're open and they let us in.

For once we beat regulars George and Gwyn to the bar although a Bradford ticker did actually get in the beers in first - very rude but he looked a bit of a ticker and generally their human-skills tend to be a bit lacking.

The beers on parade were as follows: Coach House - Dick Turpin and Coachmans; Rudgate - Good, Better and Best; Hadrian & Border - Tyneside Brown; Vale - Winter Solstice; Marston Moor Brewery - Cock Caper and Winters Tail; Hambleton - Stallion; Woods - Quaff and finally York - Nippy Nights. I'm sure the ticker was impressed.

We'd just got our first beers when John Bell joined us - a change of routine as he normally meets us after he's been to the Brit.

(left) John and Tony audition for the Sound of Music

And then the Sheffield contingent arrived - Brian and Trevor are joined by their mate, Richard, who is a Monkeyhanger. Despite this aberration he was made welcome.

This being December, it seems a collective decision was made to don Xmas headware - in this case the black and white "Bah Humbug" hats. Unfortunately due to the size of my brain box, none of these would fit me.

John Wilson pops in whilst wife Bev is busy shopping - there can't be many football-supporting couples that top and tail the divisions with Bev's Chelsea-mob riding high and the Quakers holding up the rest of the teams.

After trying a good few beers, John and I wander up to Twenty-2 where we bump into Durham Tony. I get chatting to one of the regulars that I've got to know in there over the years - Colin - who has just recently been diagnosed with Parkinson's. He's taking a very positive attitude and making sure he comes out to the pub as he's always done.

The rest of the gang then catch up with us and we nab a nice seat in the front window. There's a lovely stout on today from Marston Moor and it's going down very nicely.

At 2:30pm we pile into our taxis - we have a novice driver who takes us the long way round and by the time we get to the ground the others have overtaken us.

I wander into the club shop as I've heard they've finally got some decent clobber in but the shelves are almost bare. There is a nice managers-style coat - only £35 - but it has a loose thread and there are no others in my size.

(right) A Happy Bah Humbug to all our readers

Up in the stands the East Stand is looking very empty and forlorn - thankfully Bradford have brought a few fans and so we should exceed the 2,000 mark.

As reported in the press, there's no Foster on duty due - although he's on the bench - but there's no sign of Miller either which leaves a relatively inexperienced (for us) pairing in central defence.

The team come out to a muted welcome - it's as if nobody is really looking forward to this game - it's clear that Brian isn't as he is soon asleep, safe in the land of the nod.

Meanwhile the rest of us have to watch the game and for the main, we struggle to retain possession against a busy Bradford outfit that can sense nervous prey.

We're 1-0 down after about 20 minutes - a corner is taken and Liversedge looks as if he's coming to collect then scrambles back when it's clear he can't reach it. The ball is volleyed in from about 12 yards - the defence look at each other and the keeper shouts at them though I feel he could have done better.

(left) Brian tunes out...

We struggle for the remainder of the half - it's not pretty and to be fair, we do well to be only one down at the break. There's been a lot of talk about players being played out of position but it's difficult to keep track as our 40th player of the season makes his debut today.

As the whistle blows, the Sheffield mob take a leaf out of my book and wander off to the pub. Tony is tempted to join them but stays.

The second half is a much improved from Darlo's perspective - the anonymous and apparently uninterested Diop is replaced by Collins and then Main and Convery are sent on to try and find a way through.

It's not long before Tony weakens and leaves to join the Sheffield mob but it has to be said that the second half is an improvement - it would be difficult to be otherwise - but we never really look like scoring against a fairly solid Bradford back four with Darlo old boy Clarke sporting a bandage.

The game meanders to a close and as the referee blows, I rush off to catch the shuttle bus back into town. On board there is much grumbling from long-time fans - "the worst side we've ever seen", "the club are not listening", "we're doomed" - it's not nice to hear this but who can really blame the fans?

Back in town, I pop in for a quickie in the Quakerhouse - spookily quiet - and then pop back to Number Twenty-2 where John and Bev are waiting. There's no more stout so I make do with Burton Ale - something I've not drunk for years - and then Burtonwood Top Hat.

It's nice and warm in here and I could stay all night but I resist and head back to Northallerton and the curry house. Not up to East End standards of course but any port in a storm...