BRAPA is .... GETTING ENTHRALLED BY THE TIGERS : SIX PUBS, SIX POINTS (SAINTS & PNE AWAY)

Saturday 17th January 2026

Heady times to be a Hull City fan. I've never felt more connected to the club since the 2007/08 season which culminated in us beating Bristol City at Wembley to reach the Premier League for the first time in our history.

In the December of that season, we had back to back away games at Preston (midweek) and Southampton (Saturday), just like I'm about to tell you today.

3-0 and 4-0 defeats. We plummeted to 15th. Some fans shout for Phil Brown's head at Saints. I didn't. Though I never liked that shonky perma-tanned car salesman. I was the only one of our 'gang' who went to Saints in the pouring rain. Stern John became Ronaldinho. At Preston, even Jay-Jay Okocha was shite. The history books won't tell you that.

I'm hoping that this will be an omen of promotion yet to come. We've booked London hotels for 23rd May. Won't win another game all season now will we?

This morning I'm up at 4am, can't sleep! Dad knocks on my door at 5:40am, and we're on the 6:01am train to King's Cross. I've done us croissants in the air-fryer and Arctic coffees in case onboard catering ain't working at this time.

We cross London for Waterloo. Regular readers will know I'm loving a pre-emptive Wetherspoons this year, and Waterloo has a fairly new one in The Lion & The Unicorn. Guilt free half an Old Moor Porter at 8:58am? Why not!

Difficult to find in a bleak shopping centre, but one of the best modern 'Spoons I've been in. Actually smells clean, barmaid is lovely, beer quality top notch, spacious warm and comfy, even some black leather bench seating. Shoo-in for the Guide, surely? I can't wait til next September when I can see if the fruits of my 'Spoons labours have fruitioned!

Train to Southampton. In for 11am. Straight to another 'Spoons not in this year's Guide, but was in last time ......

We didn't love Giddy Bridge, Southampton , it is no Waterloo. I thought the beer was going to be a flapjack infused porter from Blackjack in Manchester, but I misread the clip. I miss out on an upstairs table due to split second indecision so we are wedged between front door and a big bunch of our fans from years gone by. "Look, there's 'Five Pints of Otter Head' from Exeter away 2002!" That pub burnt down despite being opposite the cathedral. Not my fault. "Hang on, there's Terry Griffiths and his mate ... I moved to a different part of the ground at Hayes away 1998 to get away from them!" Let's just say we were both glad to get gone and into actual pre-match pub ticks.

Easy mistake to make, if you are me

I'd read that although today's first tick ordinarily opens 1pm on a Saturday (weird for a central pub), when the Saints are at home, they open early. But nobody is saying HOW early. 12:59pm? High noon? 11am? 8am? So I took a gamble on getting in before 12 and sure enough, it looked like it was just firing up ......

Daddy, Daddy give it a push

I really rate the (famous) Cricketers Arms, Southampton (3226 / 6067), my second favourite today. A very warm welcome, especially from the Eastern European lady who virtually shrieked 'HIIIII!, HOW ARE YOU?' Flowerpot Perridge Pale. Oh yes. Now I remember why completing Hampshire three years back wasn't too onerous. The Jarl of Hants. Actual proper boozer. Music by Journey and the Four Tops. Random Rob Burrow and Kev Sinfield wall print. Two older Saints fans spy my GBG. "How far 'av you got?" I admit we're Hull City fans and give them today's agenda. "We thort you moight be Hal fans!" they reply in their crazy accents. Lovely blokes. They rant about how they're here because they've fallen out with their previous pre-match pab, I mean pub. Sadly, due to poor acoustics, neither of us caught its name but I maybe heard the word 'Guide' so 'Guide Dog'? Apparently, it now sells Steam Town beers (Eastleigh?) which they dislike, it has a new young owner they don't get on with, and they changed the pre-match pub snacks to something they don't like! We smiled, nodded, left and wished each other a pleasant day 'apart from the result obviously, lolz'.

I'd been worried that four ticks pre-match is optimistic, but this pre-noon start plus the knowledge that all four are close together (for So'ton!) meant it now looks easily do-able. Up next, our furthest 'norf' of the four, though I'd totally confuddled our two new mates earlier by using north, east, south and west as directions!

Pub of the day hands down was Bottle & Stoat, Southampton (3227 / 6068), no wonder Dad has sucked his cheeks in to resemble a stoat on the way in. Affable bloke who looks like he was born womb-ready to work in a craft bar tells me the '500 Milds' is from Bath. I've been to Bath recently and I'll 'proclaim' that if you stare deep into the eyes of Bath's inhabitants, they don't scream 'We have the minerals to be mild lovers'. A glorious drop. The abandoned dog basket poses questions. Dog last seen on a greyhound bus to Fratton Park? A fine rug puts in a 9/10 performance. Possible antique drawers are opened and prodded at by Dad. Green leather benches have you regretful that you're on a tight schedule. Don't ya just love it when Micropubs are designed for folks who actually value comfort and want to settle down for more than just a ten minute half?

Back to where we'd come from (not York) and opposite the Cricketers in a weird pedestrianised precinct is this ......

Looked like a South L**ds rough house from the outside, is overly flouncy within. Think disappointing South London. Fair to say that Raven & Bine, Southampton (3228 / 6069) is the weakest of the pre-match quartet. Most of the potential ales wind up being ciders, and whilst the smoky local Stove Pipe Stout is decent, I don't blame Dad for hopping aboard the hazy keg. His Pipers crisp round takes the edge off the chilly empty atmosphere, as does a bit of background Dire Straits. The loos are an interesting challenge, but when all said and done, it is all too easy to find yourself peering out at the jolly legions of unwashed, spilling onto the Cricketers pavement opposite and knowing they're having more fun than you!

One to go then, the closest to St Mary's and we'd achieved a fully 'greened' Southampton with time to spare.

Back to acting the stoat, Daddy BRAPA rates Belgium n' Blues, Southampton (3229 / 6070) a 7/10 on the Belgian authenticity scale. I wouldn't know, sometimes I feel like the only #PubMan in the world who hasn't been to Bruges or Brussels. On my list for the next five years, a bit like High Offley, Chittlehamholt, Aberchirder and Maidenhead. You enter into a small upstairs bar, and make your way down the steps into a stinking dungeon full of sweaty standing Saints bodies and dank walls, a bit like a crafty Elizabethan dungeon. Not totally unlike the Viaduct in Leeds, but a bit straighter. Boddies ironically is tempting, but you know Dad's love of hazy stuff these days, and like a former Sheff Wed striker of low-centre-of-gravity, becomes a Vibrant Forestieri whilst I wee and assess our seating options. The masses may be happy to stand around like pork chops, but we're better than that and I ask a funny non-football looking couple upstairs if they can shuffle along so we can share their bench. Well, I was wrong. They turn out to be a Saints/Tiger couple, and we have a reet good natter.

I wonder if our new friends are going to buy one of these to wrap around their joint neck?

The three lads sat in front of me did, utter football tourists!

Well it is a brilliant and quite easy (in the end) win, we let them pass the ball around at the back for 80% of the time like we used to do under boring Rosenior, and win 2-1. Amazing atmosphere, especially in the second half with the "City away away, aha aha" chanting but maybe you had to be there. I expected a 3-0 defeat, despite our recent good form cos parachute ex-Prem teams always scare me.

We couldn't have got away from So'ton and back into London any smoother, but despite being booked on the 9pm KX-York, we still only have time for a swift half in yet another pre-emptive Wetherspoons.

This time, I chose the Ice Wharf at Camden. Home of the friendliest most helpful bouncers in eternity, and a brilliant barman, who despite the crush at the bar, uses his eyes to show me that he'd be serving me next! The Orangey Windsor & Eton and Orangier J2O drink well as we sit outside surrounded by pot smoking twentysomethings trying not to fall in the canal ......

I'm home just after 11pm, and sleep in until 12:22pm on the Sunday!

Tuesday 20th January 2026

Fast forward 50 hours, I use my final hour of flexitime from work and Daddy BRAPA picks me up from mine and we head over t'Pennines to Wanky Wanky Wanky Wanky Lancashire for PNE away.

Dad's car so Dad's SatNav (ugh!), and that meant taking us a weird route we didn't ask for. Nearly even got chance to pop into Wetherby's brand new Wetherspoons, then a painful section right through the centre of Harrogate, and all along the Ribble Way which he did with Mummy BRAPA a summer or two ago, Ribchester the most notable place we passed through and a Chinese restaurant called 'Yu', surely an omen for our new loan signing from Brizzle Titties.

Only two ticks on the agenda tonight, and both are clubs. My first Lancashire ticks of the 2025/26 season. Always a rewarding pub county full of the friendliest folk, although West Lancs has a tendency for some of the greyest Micropubs in the UK.

First up is Longridge, where I deserve a blue plaque for finally completing this huge gosh damn county at the fruity Applejacks two summers ago. I also did a boring Micro here called Tap & Vent in Feb 2020 full of miserable people who didn't like us being there. Only one month til Covid lads, you'll probably enjoy that!

I tell you who's never miserable, Daddy BRAPA, and that meant he'd fit in well at the homely St Wilfrid's Terrace Members Club, Longridge (3230 / 6071). "Most people in this world are basically honest, decent folk, who just want simple things in life and no fuss. Sure there's a few loudmouths who try to spoil things, but most people are good" observes the great man, halfway down our pints, surveying the large room. There's plenty of locals about, elderly chaps playing snooker, families sat down having a chinwag and a drink, but there's a calm hushedness about the place, and NOT in that usual Longridge howl-at-the-moon / turn into shadow men, ghouls and goblins when dusk falls kinda way. No-one had batted an eyelid when we entered, asked to see a CAMRA card on entry etc. etc, and when the clucky lady behind the bar charges me £3.60 a pint, she's quick to tell me it should be £2 and refunds me. I hadn't asked in case I wasn't eligible for club prices. Time was on my side for a second pint, but I could tell Dad was restless despite his earlier spiel for we'd left our big coats in the car and sadly this club was a tad chilly, so we decide to push on.

Kale Joseph is back. I was hoping the Blackpool link might help, but I don't think he'll ever make it as a mascot

I'd looked up a possible pre-emptive called the Townley Arms which sometimes sells White Rat.

I hope I won't end up kicking myself for my laziness which follows, as I say to Dad 'why walk five minutes to the Townley when we're parked outside a perfectly good Thwaites pub'? The Bull & Royal ladies and gents .....

Leaving Dad at the bar to make friends with Spicy Marg and co

Very friendly in toothless hi-vis kinda way. No cask. Naïve of me to expect every Thwaitesies pub to have a range of handpumps. Dad "I'm sure this (Thwaites Smooth) will be just as good as our last pint". Not one of his better aged comments as it transpires.

6pm (the cruel opening time of our second tick) was fast approaching, so it is off to the Fulwood area of Preston as well, and it should be illegal to fail to contact local legend Matthew 'SeeTheLizards' Lawrenson in such circs. "I'll be waiting on the corner" he messages with Prestonian malice. We find a parking space as quick as we can, and powerwalk down before he gives up on us .......

We find Matthew and walk through the dark car park (best said in a Blackburn accent). Dad's all like GULP, UH OH "This doesn't look too promising" but we tell him to chill out. Just cos only about 5% of the building is lit, doesn't mean it is a shut club alert. And it isn't. We push a door, and are inside the lobby of Fulwood & Broughton Cricket Club, Preston (3231 / 6072). The main man signals for us to go 'the long way round' as the main bar door is locked, he pops on a light so we can see the ales, and tells us he's shocked to see someone SO EARLY. 6:10pm mate, but apparently this is rare on a Jan Tuesday and since New Year he's shutting up shop well before the official closing time. I'm suddenly very grateful to be here, and loving this weird 'half shut' atmosphere. The brand new Settle Centennial drinks to perfection (beer of the night), and my swift late half of Loch Lomond whets my appetite for Saturday's Stirling trip, as Dad gets chatting with a recently arrived couple. The main man is a gent, with links to Alston Cumbria and nearby Northumberland (Haltwhistle etc.) so I'm pleased to recount a couple of memories of my trips out there. Lancashire Crisps from a bloke called Big Bob have a crazy kick for a flavour that sounded so plain! Shame our visit felt a bit rushed, as this was an excellent club even in these odd circs.

A deserved guest tick

So it was farewell Matthew (off to Lidl) and time to tell Dad to hold his nerve in our attempt to park by Moor Park. Done it before, did it again, bosh!

Dad was hungry so I send him for a hot dog and go through the turnstiles into Deepdale alone cos I need a piss as usual. Unlike Southampton, I see hardly anyone I recognise although Jarvo from the Gooligans waddles over and says "how's yer Dad?" which is better than 'how's yer father' and I say he's buying a hot dog outside and Jarvo says "good man!"

Dad then returns with TWO cheeseburgers (good man!) and a steward growls at me cos Bodo Glimt are stuffing Man Citeh and I'm pretending to watch the screen between bites.

Bit tepid but good flavour inside, but not a patch on my Riverside burger two seasons ago. Up the bloody Boro!

The game produces our best performance of the season, near total dominance as we beat a playoff rival (they were sixth, we were fifth) 3-0. Told ya, heady times! (losing at Blackburn tmw aren't we?)

Taken at 0-0 actually!

Although the SatNav semi-behaves and has us going back on more normal motorways, we're turned off the M62 for diversions somewhere deep in West Yorkshire. Very late home. I wake up at, guess what, 12:22pm again. Such a weird body clock. Thank goodness I swapped my non-working day from Thu to Wed.

See you on Sunday evening for the month end review. It hasn't been a vintage January pub ticking but a late-ish flurry of ticks has dragged it to respectability providing I get four done tomorrow.

Keep it pub, Si