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  • Writer's pictureSi Everitt

BRAPA SHOWDOWN .... LOUGHBOROUGH & DISTRICT v TUNBRIDGE WELLS (first half)

Good evening, and following hot on the heels of the Norfolk Countdown, I've come up with another new style of blogging.


A couple of weeks back, I ticked off six pubs in the Loughborough area, and two days later did the same in Tunbridge Wells.


I am now going to pit those pubs against each other to try and decide which area has the best GBG entries ... according to me.


I'll pair them off, so the corresponding pubs I did each day will 'play' each other - that way guaranteeing something of a 'scientific control'. And then I'll pick a winner for all six 'fixtures'. Three today (the first half), three on Wednesday (second half).


The teams are out, the orange slices have been sucked, magic sponge in the kit bag, and we are ready for kick off! If you hate football, sorry.


Swan in the Rushes (Loughborough) v Grove Tavern (Tunbridge Wells)



Early away fan chants of 'Swan in the Rushes is a shithole, I wanna go home' seem unfounded to me, though plenty of Twitter folk alluded to the fact that this is a pub that had recently fallen on hard times, but more lately has had something of a phoenix from the ashes revival. This was my first post-Norfolk pub and what a tonic, as a quadruple of locals wander in and shout over 'hello!' to me, the roundest man wobbled in like a weeble saying "welcome to my world!" It was a basic likeable East Midlands style boozer, long bench seating around the perimeter, the odd fruit machine, open and basic. There was a bar to the left I never saw. Barman looked a bit bored, the ale was tasty but a touch fizzy and the glass perhaps a bit greasy, and I guess if I'm being brutal, the place was slightly gloomy, meaning I was not 100% convinced, but I still had a fondness for the place.



After a long morning mooching around the antique shops of Tunbridge Wells with Daddy BRAPA, where Eric Knowles nearly blocked our progress, yellow card surely, but no! A regular somehow manages to be at the front door of the Grove Tavern ahead of us, bang on 12 noon. The second the key turns in the latch, he's in! Top pubbing. This was a delightful boozer, the landlord is impressive and clearly proud of his ale. He gives us tasters too without me being remotely interested. He waxes lyrical on his award for how well kept his Tim Taylor Landlord is, and purrs over the Harvey's so much so, I decide to go for it. Despite what it sometimes does to my bowels. I needn't have worried, the lacings told their own story, easily up there with the best Sussex Best I've tasted. Pint of the day? A beautifully soothing, bare boarded boozer, a gaggle of locals are around the bar now. One has even conjured up a pork pie from somewhere, making Daddy BRAPA hungry and jealous. They are talking about a drunk bloke who fell through a door. Time just disappeared whilst we were in here, we lost an additional half an hour like we'd been abducted by aliens. How marvellous.


Loughborough 0-1 Tunbridge Wells


So, the Kentish outfit take an early lead. The Loughborough fans are chanting 'are you Sussex in disguise?' like it is an insult or something, the TW massive respond with 'back to your Leicestershire slums'. But it is all good humoured so far. Let's see who can grab the next goal.


Moon & Bell (Loughborough) v Sussex Arms (Tunbridge Wells)



We now enter perhaps the scrappiest period of the game. Both teams failing to find a rhythm, but Moon & Bell is determined to use its Wetherspoons status as a positive. The shopmobility scooter certainly offers early hope. The streets of Loughborough have been eerily deserted thus far, and it soon became apparent why. Every bugger was in 'ere! A business model that works, whatever Twitter would have you believe! I muscle my way in, a glorious Titanic Plum Porter with a Mudgie voucher is always a fine outcome. Before that, a woman with the voice of Sean Dyche notices her Guinness hasn't had its blackcurrant top up. "You were quickly onto that!" I tell her. "Experience" Miss Dychey replies in gravelly tones. Sexy. A timid man has been stood at the bar for hours, but isn't even trying to get served. He's like a moaning mouse, sighing pathetically every time he is overtaken. A woman asks the staff if she can speak to a guy called Harry. But he's gone away. She has a strop and storms off. I think she was called Meghan. She just wants her privacy. I end up opposite the Dychey gang unwittingly. An earlier BRAPA version of myself could've been slightly intimidated here. But this long in the tooth one found it brilliant.


By contrast, the Sussex Arms struggles from the start. It even receives a yellow card half an hour before kick off. Doors and windows open, staff milling about. I wander in. "We're not open yet!" I'm told. Well stop looking open then. She doesn't even recognise me when we return. It is a pretty characterless airy wannabe London style food pub. Daddy BRAPA encourages me to focus on the positives as I often do. It is warm inside (it is freezing down in Kent today). It is almost comfy. Our table isn't reserved (yet). The beer, a 5% 'Bearer of Bad Tidings' went down dangerously well. A Spanish family put the volume on full and Skype their friends back home and show them around the whole pub. Someone says something that sounds like 'arsehole' in Spanish.


Loughborough 1-1 Tunbridge Wells - a deserved equaliser for the Leics outfit.


"Tunbridge ware, we don't care, we follow the Tunbridge everywhere" (example below) chant the Kents in a bid to rally their troops.


But then, one random big bald Loughborough bloke stands up, points at the opposing fans and shouts "ANTIQUE SHAGGERS!" Everyone around him, including some of Tunbridge fans laugh, as much out of embarrassment as anything.


Anyway, back to reality with the final 'game' of the first half.



Round RobINN (Loughborough & District) v Mount Edgcumbe (Tunbridge Wells)




A dreadful start at the Round RobINN, East Leake which really should've been sent off for a two footed challenge after ten seconds. Everything on social media says 3pm. 4pm on the door! It is only 3:05pm. Fuming. Luckily, I find a cafe and public loos to tide me over, oh and buy some ham from co-op which I needed for upcoming lunches. Lovely doughnut, average coffee, 100% recyclable.


I'm in at 3:58pm, alongside another man, baby slung over his shoulder. He's kind, so is the guv'nor more is the pity when you want to rant. Being British, I tell him about the hours discrepancy in the gentlest way possible. "Google is a nightmare to update, I keep asking them!" he tells me. But what of their Facebook? Surely you have control over that? "I thought I'd changed that but you aren't the first person to say it still says 3pm .... it looks okay from my end. I'll have another look" he promises me. He's too nice. So is this stout. And everyone smiles. Oscar even makes friends with a round robin. Grrr. MUST. NOT. LIKE. THIS. PLACE. TOO MUCH. But I did. And that's kinda nice. Oh no, now I'm being nice! Mum arrives with daughter, straight outta school. They are attached to Dad and baby. They do a bit of shuffling about. This must be a regular part of the post-school run routine. I like it. Man next to me is reading silently when the baby then lets out a massive fart. Everyone apart from me and baby's big sister ignores it. We find it hilarious. "Which one of you was that?" I shout across. "HIM! She shrieks, pointing accusingly". Dad's eyes smile. Man keeps reading. Happy times. And I can see the bus stop from here.


It was an interesting walk to the Mount Edgcumbe, Tunbridge Wells. Hilly, hidden away in a woody area next to these odd things called the 'Wellington Rocks'. Ever been to the monasteries of Northern Greece? A bit like that. We're imagining absolute poshness personified. "Eat, drink, stay, enjoy!" Yuck, I'm thinking, can I gauge my eyes out now? However, I'm wrong and so are you. We wander in through this fabulous 6th century sandstone cave, selection of stuffed owls in behind glass to the right (good job this wasn't an Oscar day too), old lamps, and if you stay in the nearside of the bar and don't stray too far right, it does actually feel rather pubby. Pragmatic hard working dudes serve Pig & Porter, brewed in TW, decent price for this area. And all looked set for TW to grab a half time lead. But the poshos keep piling in, and about half way down my beer, it starts descending into 'worst pint of the day' territory. Daddy B has noticed the same. Col is oblivious.


Half Time : Loughborough & District 1-1 Tunbridge Wells. No goal for either team. Liked both pubs beyond my expectations for the most part. But I can't get over tardily maintained opening hours any more than I can do ropey beer.


Hard fought contest so far. All to play for in the second half.


See you on Wednesday, Si

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