Good evening! 16 GBG pubs were ticked over Easter weekend, the number of teams you'd have remaining in an FA Cup fifth round draw.
So that made me think 'let me pit them against each other, then using a complex decisioning system involving my own personal opinion and if needs be, the roll of a dice, we can determine which is the best overall Easter pub of 2023.'
I put the balls in a bag (why do they never say ball bag on the BBC?) and drew them out last night - 10 from the Charnwood area of Leics, 5 from Tyne & Wear, and one from West Yorkshire.
So without further ado, we'll 'play' the first two fixtures tonight:
Royal Oak (Quorn) v Tyne Bar (Byker)
A pub with some of the most baffling opening hours I've seen so far during my 2023 ticking, it was no surprise to see that the Royal Oak also has a strange stand alone bar - a sort of box in the floor. It was like the concept 'British pub bar' had been explained to someone who'd never seen one in their life, but ran with the idea and did their darnedest bestest. I'm in a gregarious mood by now, late in my mini Easter break, and start chattering to the cool kids around the bar about a bloke in a previous pub who kept saying 'Happy Easter' like he was on commission. They humour me, with a polite chuckle, but then one lad recommences his far more entertaining tale where Jesus with lasers for eyes is burning Godzilla and telling him he won't be having any chocolate eggs (or something similar), the naughty reptilian barrstard. The assembled crowd guffaw with gusto, and I solemnly trudge off with my (excellently kept) Tim Taylor Landlord wishing my humour was more 'off the wall'. I did return later for a pack of Mini Cheddars to soak up my wet-led day, but it was an uneventful return. This experience was symptomatic of my weekend in Charnwood - the locals give you your little moment in the sun, two minutes at best, before unconsciously dismissing you. A bit like getting a five minute trial of free hotel Wi-fi. Speaking of which, zero signal here. I felt a bit bored and boxed in towards the back of pub, near one of East Mids modern corridors leading the the loos. Reading the online reviews, the Quorn-stars rave about this place. I'm not sure how many good pubs their are in Quorn, or whether they get out much to the bright lights of Leicester or Loughborough, but I personally found it about as 'stand out' as its grey exterior.
I think a child got locked in a back room and this expression has just reminded me of this vague recollection!
Over in Byker at the beginning of my weekend of BRAPA fun, it was hard to believe that I'd never been to the Tyne Bar before, so many trips out this way stretching back to the year 2000 - especially once I was inside appreciating its carpetted joy throughout, shiny resplendent windows and fittings, buzzy youthful Bank Holiday atmosphere, a few too many dogs, and the bonus point of our ole' North Lincs football mates Ben & Christine smiling back at us from the corner, crossword on the go as is standard on such days. The Staffs town clue (7 letters, 2nd letter 'U') ended up being Rugeley, not Burslem. What drama. Nailed on win for Byker, right? Well, like so much about pub ticking, it is not quite that straightforward. What on earth was up with this Three Brothers pale ale? Fizzy water! It looked well kept, it didn't smell funny, yet over on Untappd where more kool kids hang out (Tony Lea, Tim Thomas, Mick Citra, Sir Quinno - you know the types, bloody hipsters), people are accepting that although it is a bit 'thin', it is 'full of flavour'. Huh? Daddy BRAPA felt the same as me, and one sip of our friends Ossett Yorkshire Blonde told you we'd probably just chosen poorly. Anyway, let's not get too bogged down in beery semantics. I guess what it all comes down to in this first 'face off' of the tournament, is 'which pub would I rather return to?'
Daddy B nips in front of Stephen Taylor to get us two pints we'd dislike
Tyne Bar goes through to the quarter finals. No dice roll needed.
One more fixture in part one as it is already 9pm, and the wind is howling around outside BRAPA towers like a mad owl, on my first day back at work so I'm tired. I could really do with a cuppa and a hot cross bun for supper. Do people still have supper? I'm so old.
Lighthouse (Sunderland) v Woodman's Stroke (Rothley)
Expectations were nicely low (the best way to approach pubbing as a ticker, trust me) as we enter The Lighthouse. Our final pre-match stop off if you don't count Boddies only 'The Cambridge' after a productive day drinking on Tyneside. But over on superior Wearside, a stones' throw from Seaburn station, we found this typically canny Mackem micro. Airy, clean, a bit too 'new' feeling but today at least, the warmth created by the pre-matchers and cracking barmaid made up for it. And a little foray upstairs to find the gents reveals an additional comfy room, totally free from folk - Dad could've been the guv'nor in his crib (do pub guv'nors have cribs I wonder?) The Maxim Equinox drank fantastically - and here was a nice reminder why I came to Uni here. Nothing to do with the course, but the warmth and authenticity of proper folk. Marvellous. And I'm sure being slightly tipsy helped a bit too. I have a vague recollection of singing 'Ocean Drive' by the Lighthouse Family to Dad. Punk freaking Rock!
In his crib
Tucked away down a peaceful country lane off the main street, I came to this eventful gem. "You mean Woodies?" said a motivated Mountsorrel man later when I dared used the full name 'Woodman's Stroke' for no one ever calls it that. No surprise, it does sound like a 1970's porno. And shouting 'can I have a Vixen?' over a throbbing throng, and eventually ending up with four elderly gents strumming their instruments in my face did nothing to assuage my concerns. As I glance around this fabulous low beamed county style classic, I'd already noted that we were almost at standing room only, bloody bank holidayers and their stretchy dogs strike again - there was an outdoor bit I couldn't be arsed with. So I wander through to what looks a cosy front room, plenty of space. 'Reserved from 2pm - hiss & boo!' says the sign, and I think the staff have added 'hiss & boo' knowing people HATE reservations. Alas no, the main man pulls out a guitar and tells me this is the name of his band. I try to escape but despite moving me THREE times - once for the band's WAGs ("ooh, they'll like being called girlfriends!" he tells me), they seem hellbent on keeping me captive. Now I know how that Fritzl girl felt. "Our glory days are over" main man tells me with a mixture of humour and genuine wistfulness when I ask if they are or were famous. Certainly talented. I do my bit to help. The double bass player to my left has shakey hands, so I help bring up the chords on his iPad. The guitar player to my right is a bit deaf, and has to ask me which song the main man has decided on next! They start with 'Indiana' which sounds like 'Match of the Day' to me. They laugh when I ask if they wrote it. "I've honestly got a bus to catch and I'm not just trying to escape!" I say eventually, just as the Fritzl girl had probably done. What a whirlwind!
Winner HAS to be the Woodman's Stroke. A great pub anyway, but quite a unique experience, never have I been so close to actually being IN a band! Honourable mention for the Lighthouse though.
Join me on Thursday, we've got three more fixtures coming up in part 2. An all Newcastle derby, Charnwood takes on Castleford and then we end with another local derby, this time from up near Castle Donington in our televised evening fixture.
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