Proud To Have One Pence Left

Arsenal 5 v Sheffield United 0 

Premier League 

Saturday 28 October 2023 

SUFC 2023/24 Game #18 

Sheffield United 1 v Manchester United 2 

Premier League 

Saturday 21 October 2023 

SUFC 2023/24 Game #17 

England 3 v Italy 1 

UEFA EURO 2024 Qualifiers Group C 

Tuesday 17 October 2023 

Played at Wembley 

NFDR

No Football Don't Read 

The Carrier Bag Firm have, amongst their ranks, a Beer Philanthropist. Investment Clubs, GoFundMes, Crowd Funding - they're all over it. New brewery kit. A new bar front. A Taproom refurb. Where do I send the cheque?

You can guess the drill. Chuck some money in up front. Help the brewery or bar get summat done. And you get something in return. One pound fifty bar credit back for every quid you chuck in. Ten percent discount for life. That sort of thing.

Over the years, we've lost track of the various credits & discounts. Previously, money has deffo been put into Hammerton Brewery Crowd Funding. Hammerton Taproom is on the Roman Way Industrial Estate in N7. That's not exactly convenient for Arsenal's ground. But, a combination of road closures, coach parking restrictions and modern Premier League logistics, meant we felt Hammerton was doable for an hour or two before kick off.

But, what we couldn't recall is whether we still had any discount or credit. Here's how the convo went.

"We're sure we've crowdfunded you in the past. But, we're not sure what rewards we're still enjoying. If we give you our details, is there a database or some shit you could look us up on?"

"Sure, just let me fire it up"

"Oh yes, here you are. That's great. You've got £50.01 credit over the bar."

Whoop. Whoop. Of course, the TRUE JOY is in what's NOT being said there. Fifty Quid and One Penny credit. Now, our crowdfunding would naturally come in rounded units - tens, twenties, fifties, etc. So, that means that on a previous visit to Hammerton, to spend previous credit, it was like a version of Beer Countdown. We manipulated the Beer Board, and the prices, and our credit to get it down to just One Pence. Just One Pence. That is a marvellous Carrier Bag Firm algorithm achievement right there.

Hammerton, Islington Lager, a Californian Common at 4.7% was one of my gateway, breakthrough beers. One of the beers I tasted and thought - oh, that's what beer tastes like us it. One of the beers that got my started on Craft Beer. Hammerton, Pentonville, Oyster Stout at 5.3% was exceptional. You rarely see either of those anymore. Pity. Times change.

Neither were on among the fourteen of Hammerton on Keg. And three guests.

Hammerton Brewery, Collab with Coronado Brewing Co (San Diego), Across The Pond, IPA on Keg at 5.6%

Challenger, Godiva & Olicana Hops from the UK and Bru-1 and Azzaca from the USA. Nice beer. I felt it was a bit between two stools. Not clear and simple enough to be West Coast style. But very little going on in the cloud. There was a nice, underpinning sweetness from the malt.

Hammerton Brewery, Collab with Dogma Brewery (Belgrade), One In The Wood, Hazy IPA on Keg at 5.3%

A double dry hopped Pale Ale with Cascade, Mosaic and Citra Hops. Lovely. A lot of orange and lemon. But some tropical fruits as well. Nicely balanced bitterness.

Hammerton Brewery, Melba King, Fruited Gose on Keg at 4.4%

Fruited with raspberries and fresh peaches. Maybe could have done with more sour to offset all that fruit. Still, a nice dessert in a glass beer.

I love Eddie Nketiah. Give him the amount of space we gave him. And he's deadly. Trusty not tight enough in the first place, Robinson backing off further. You're fucked.

Souza and Norwood. But, they put Norwood as the Front Screen at corners. That is my preference. No McBurnie. So Brewster was the Zone. No. He just watches it sail over him and into danger.

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Numerous Rodeos

Italy 1 v England 2 

UEFA EURO 2024 Qualifiers Group C 

Thursday 23 March 2023 

Played at Stadio Diego Armando Maradona, Naples 

Ground Tick 420 

Italian Beer Ticks up to #78 

150th England Away Game 

Sorrento. This is not my first rodeo.

I do not have a violent football hooligan past. But, I have Blogged before that I was part of an unsustainable drinking & chaos culture surrounding England away games. We were (are) a gang, a firm, a mob. We were even given a name, which we were happy to live up to. The Horrendous Lemons.

You'll agree, that's sort of self deprecating isn't it? I have been a Horrendous Lemon a LOT longer than I have been a Carrier Bagger. On occasions, I explain I've been through my own Truth And Reconciliation Commission. I'm certainly not proud of everything I've done. Plenty got offended, but no one got hurt. So, I'm comfortable with that.

I went to Turin for the England game in 2015. In that Blog, I explained I wasn't at the most famous game England played in Turin, the World Cup Semi Final in 1990. I wasn't at that game because I had already been deported from Italy the morning of the Quarter Final in Naples.

Deported. That was not my first rodeo.

Because I had already been deported from Rimini, Italy (for the first time) just six days previously. To my knowledge, I am one of only two England fans (waves - hi Mark) deported twice from Italia 90. Emphasising - none of those incidents involved violence on my part. If it did, I'd say so. I have subsequently been back to Rimini a few times. Sheffield United in the Anglo Italian Cup. England away in nearby San Marino. Even England U21 in their EUROs.

But, this current trip to Naples is the first time I've been back to Sorrento since the Italian Police arrested me in my Sorrento hotel and deported me, Alitalia First Class I might add, in 1990.

So, I now need to explain the picture heading this Blog. On a nostalgia mooch, I took that picture on the rather narrow Vico Terzo Rota in Sorrento. Indeed you can just catch a glimpse of the No Entry sign as the street narrows to the point a car won't get down it. The Hotel Zì Teresa, where I was staying, is stage right. The Polizia di Stato, where I was put in the cells, is (as you can see) stage left.

In my ever helpful state, I had made sure Italian Plod only had to Perp Walk me across the fucking street.

Italy v England. This is not my first rodeo.

Currently, my faction of The Horrendous Lemons have a rule. If you're playing Italy away, or indeed in the EURO Final at Wembley, get to the ground early and get in before the security arrangements break down.

How the fuck did we get here? Not "in case the security arrangements break down". Because, they surely fucking will. Get there before.

It's insane. Italian grounds have excellent physical arrangements. Away ends are caged and gated and often approached by different roads to home fan Curvas. Italian grounds have excellent legal arrangements. Obvs they're a ballache. But, every ticket has to have a name on. And those named tickets are legally required to be matched to a photo ID (ie passport) at the entrance. (I've even had to do that at Italian Serie C games).

That is an excellent base for maintaining security. But, they constantly fuck that up by putting an insane number of unnecessary moving parts on top of all that. Stewards, Plod and more Plod INSIDE the physical caged and gated areas. Which you've had to show your ticket and passport to legally get into in the first place. What are they employing so many breathing bodies to do? Well, of course, if they've got nothing to do, they'll create.

AFTER I'd got in the caged and gated away fans compound by showing my ticket and passport, I had to show them THREE more fucking times to banks of Stewards and Plod. And, when I got to the top of the ramp, these fuckers were waiting.

The fucking Guardia di Finanza. The Financial Police. Responsible for combatting organised financial criminals. I'd lost it (in a smiley way) by then;

"Hello Officer"

I said. Presenting him with my ticket, passport and now my CREDIT CARD…

"I see you're the Financial Police."

Anyway, my Horrendous Lemon clique got in a long time before the security arrangements broke down!!!

England away. This is not my first rodeo.

That's a milestone of sorts. My 150th England away game. I binned off the World Cups in Russia and Qatar. As the FIFA Fiasco Fuckery doesn't always meet my requirements. But, maybe it'd be nice to get to 200 England away games before I'm done. Indeed, it is a stipulation of my Last Will And Testament that one of the Horrendous Lemons take my ashes to an England away game in the hope they'll simply be lost in a bar or away end, with everyone too pissed to remember what they've done with 'em.

Stadio Diego Armando Maradona is the 420th different ground I've watched football on.

England were worth that win. Very, very sloppy in the opening minutes, they quickly regained some control. And dominated the first half I felt. Could have been more than two up at the half. How Grealish has missed that one I'll never know. Did he try to get the outside of his boot on it? In patches, Jude Bellingham looked some boy. I can't explain why, but I hope he doesn't go to the Premier League. He's better off staying in Germany. But money will talk.

However, Italy got it together for the second half. And Grealish, Saka and Jude were bit players. Even anonymous at times. But, we took it to Italy, in Naples, and beat them away for the first time since the early sixties (I'm reading).

Italian Beer. This is not my first rodeo.

I pushed my Italian Beer ticks up to 78. Mainly in;

La Bottega della Birra

Via S. Nicola, 13, Sorrento

I won't claim to be an expert. But surely that's the only craft beer bar in Sorrento. He'd got six keg lines. But only one of those was set aside for Italian craft. The others were Belgian faux Abbeys and Euro Lagers. Disappointingly, that single Italian craft didn't change all the nights we were there. Although, it was excellent.

Birra dell'Eremo (Capodacqua, Italy), TUKA, Hazy New England style IPA on Keg at 6.2%

Dry hopped with Sabro, Mosaic and Simcoe. Claims to use a yeast from Vermont. That was a great beer. Not overjuiced. The hop flavours develop nicely and it packed a punch from the off.

Once we'd ticked that keg, we were into the excellent range of Italian craft Tins. At times, I was pointing at Tins on the shelf and asking;

"Put one of those in the fridge for me please, and I'll drink it tomorrow."

And, then the next day I'd walk in and he'd make a big fuss and get it out of the fridge and present it and ask me whether that'd be alright for me.

On other occasions, he'd be apologetic because the one I was after wasn't already in the fridge. Me, I didn't give two fucks. The what is in the fridge then lottery was great fun. Better than choosing if I'm honest.

As it happens, I "won";

LIQUIDA Birrificio Indipendente (Ostellato, Italy), POP Chopper, American style IPA from a Tin at 7%.

What Fresh Hell is this? Same beer. Multiple Can colourways. Be careful bruv. You'll just keep ordering it thinking it's a new tick. Nice beer. Just doesn't quite win the Richness Handicap Stakes. Bitterness lasts a long time.

Bit of Horrendous Lemon throwback, bit of before the security arrangements break down, great England win, lots of Italian Craft Beers.

This has not been my first fucking rodeo.

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Who Put The I In ICONIC

Italy 1 v England 0 

UEFA Nations League, Group A3

Friday 23 Sep 2022 

Played at San Siro Stadium 

Ground Tick 405 

I'm going to caption that one, that's the view out of our hotel room window.

The Iconic San Siro Stadium was the 405th ground tick on which I have watched football, at this my 149th England away game.

Contractually required aren't you. You can't call it the ORDINARY Stadio Giuseppe Meazza.

You have to call it the ICONIC San Siro Stadium. ICONIC.

Not too bad in that Third Tier. Mad sloping walk up those ICONIC walkie tower thingys. Names printed on tickets. Names checked against passports at the first checkpoint. Italian Plod give you a pat down search at the next checkpoint. Not five yards further, Italian Hi-Viz Bedecked Stewards give you a much more thorough, stuff out of pockets if they fancy it, search. No real reason why two searches in five paces, but you knew that.

Worth mentioning, the ticket cost me £9.50. Although since Kwasi Karteng, that would be about £20 at today's exchange rate.

The game. That's what International Football can be like. Everything neutralising everything else. At the elite level, so much seems to depend on clever flicks by low gravity midfielders with their back to goal, in the hope of finding a strong forward running onto it. But, at any level, that's a recipe for giving the ball away and losing possession. It can be a bit frustrating to watch.

I did the first minute player count up. Left Kyle Walker out. Once I'd located him, it was basically three at the back. Walker, Dier and Maguire. Is that an experiment? Or is that what he's wishing for in the first World Cup game in The Dead Nepali Worker Stadium?

Reece James wide right. Saka wide left. Experiment?

Not a great deal of cohesion and pressure. Often just seeing what turned up next. I understand some fans frustration.

And, while we're at it, the UEFA Nations League wasn't supposed to be like this. It's supposed to be a Tournament in its own right, not half arsed World Cup warm ups. In principle, it's the right format. The EUROs and World Cups have become these world wide festival of football events. Both "encouraging some geographical minnows" to sell the carnival. What is it now? 72 teams playing 460 games over a two month period to send four of them home. And then the rest try to take each other to penalties as they lap a particular country for the third time.

Please… if The Championship was like that, if Club Football was like that, we'd all be thinking - what a pile of shit.

Oh, and Italy aren't even in the upcoming World Cup.

The Nations League was supposed to bring an added meritocracy to International Football. A league structure. Where you play teams at your own level. To decide who are best at your level, so they can have a crack at the next level up. Just like the club league football that we all think is better than club cup football.

To emphasise, this is just the second time England have played Italy, in Italy, in a so called "competitive" game in my football attending lifetime. Can't be right. And, fanfare, England have now been fucking relegated.

Luckily, we came for the beer. First time for us, but Milan proved to be a great beer city. Match day was spent in;

La Birrofila Brewpub

Via Sant'Ampellio, 14, 20141 Milano MI, Italy

Down South, but doable on the Metro. Reasonably welcoming. But, got that Milanese - sit over there, we'll get your beers ready once we've pfaffed around with all this other unnecessary shit - vibe going on. Also, the usual chalkboard, pumpclip, what's actually on mismatch. So, so easy to put that right FFS.

Anyway, eeny meeny - let's go seven of their own on.

LA Brewery, Once, West Coast Pils on Keg at 5%

As you can see, served Gelato style. Because that'll put ten minutes on the serving time. Very nice. Got that IPL thing going on. Simple, in phases, beer. Stone fruit. Thin mouthfeel.

LA Brewery, Ulahop, IPA on Keg at 6%

One that wasn't on the board. Because that would be too fucking simple. I felt that was a bit identikit with the West Coast Pils I'd had earlier. Very gently balanced. The dominant taste, which is pleasant is peach. Doesn't go anywhere in the direction of the Bitter Peninsular. Magnum, Simcoe, Galaxy, Citra.

LA Brewery, Bitter End, English Bitter on nominal Cask at 4%

That came out of a handpull. But, I sort of refuse to believe it is proper, full on, gunk left in Cask beer. Of course, the fact it was pulled meant it took even fucking longer to pour. Williamette hops. Nice enough. I was "John Smith's worried" at first. But, pretty decent. Nutty. Not over sweet. Easy to drink.

You can find ALL my previous Blogs at

www.ball-sup.blogspot.com

www.ball-sup.blogspot.com

Would you please consider subscribing (free) to have my Blog delivered to your email inbox (via Substack). Thank you.

You can find me on Social Media

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21 Years Of Hurt

England 1 v Italy 1 

(after extra time) 

Italy win 3-2 on Penalties 

UEFA EURO 2020 Final 

Sunday 11 July 2021 

Played at Wembley 

Twenty One years of hurt. Having lost the Unofficial Football World Championship to Romania in June 2020 at the Stad du Pays, Charleroi, this was England's fifth attempt to win back the CW Alcock Cup. But, they couldn't get past this remarkable Italian team who have now defended the UFWC a staggering eighteen times since beating the Netherlands in September 2020.

What? You thought I'd be Blogging about the EUROs? We're the Carrier Bag Firm and we are ALL OVER the Unofficial Football World Championship.

Charles William Alcock was a footballer and referee, and secretary of the English Football Association. In 1872, he arranged to send an England team to Scotland to play the first ever international match. Common sense innit. The winner's would be World Champions. Nil Nil. Celebrated wildly, as always, by our Scottish Cousins who "sent him hameward tae think again". 

A rematch was whacked into the not congested at all international calendar for March 1873 in London. May I remind you that Buckfast Tonic Wine was not concocted until 1880. And, crossbars for Scottish fans to hang off were not introduced to football until 1875.

Still, all Police leave was cancelled & Trafalgar Square was cordoned off just in case. England won 4-2. Making us Unofficial Football World Champions. Yay.

To be honest, it was no big deal at the time. But, the introduction of thermometers and hydrometers was leading to major improvements in brewing beer. Commercial refrigeration, automatic bottling and pasteurization were doing some heavy lifting. And the grandees of the Carrier Bag Firm were into their fourth pint of independently brewed Craft Ale. Bollocks was being chatted.

"What if, one day, England play someone other than Scotland?

Say, I don't know, the Netherlands Antilles or summat?

What if the team, that beat the team, that beat the team becomes Unofficial Football World Champions?

Winner. Stays. On."

"What are you on about Phil's Great Great Grandad?

It's 1873, the Netherlands Antilles won't even be a country until 1954 & will surely be disbanded by 2010 in the post-colonial era.

You're Ale Addled"

*Phil's Antecedent - muttering*

Oh do Fuck Off

In 1876, Wales had a nibble at the UFWC. But got beat 4-0 off the Scotches.

In 1884, Ireland had a go. Lost 5-0 to the Jocks.

And. Finally. We're off. Ireland beat Scotland 2-0 in 1903. The Carrier Bag Firm got the ledgers out. And, the UFWC was no longer the sole property of the England/Scotland duopoly.

But, for 37 frankly boring years, the UFWC games passed around England, Ireland, Scotland & Wales. Fuck Sake. Freshen it up. Finally, in the 99th UFWC game in 1909 at the Millenaris Sporttelep, Budapest, Hungary had a pop at England. But, they shagged it up & lost 4-2.

Another dull, same old same old 22 years ticked over. Then, 16 May 1931, the World changed forever. Hungary, Belgium, Luxembourg, France, Norway, Germany, and the Netherlands had all played in UFWC matches but none had been able to take the title away from the British Isles’.

But, in 1931, in UFWC matchup #159, at the Hohe Warte in Vienna, Austria beat a piss poor Scottish team 5-0.

The UFWC had been unleashed to the World. 

At the height of WWII in 1942, Sweden went to Berlin & beat UFWC holders Germany in their own Lebensraum. At Wembley tonight, both England & Italy players "took the knee" in a show of solidarity against discrimination. That night in Berlin, the Swedish players also got involved in gesture politics. Refusing to give the Nazi Salute, pointedly keeping their arms by their sides against the wishes of their German hosts. Politics has always been in sport.

Post War, England wrestled the UFWC off the Swedes at Highbury in 1947. And went on a successful run of defending it 11 games. But. Then. The World turned upside down. 29 June 1950. Estadio Independencia, Belo Horizonte, Brazil. England nil, USA one. The winner was scored by Haitian born Joe Gaetjens. After he'd retired from Soccer (had to use that term in honour of the USA's remarkable UFWC victory), Joe returned to Haiti, was arrested by the Tonton Macoutes (Secret Police) and never seen again.

At the 1962 World Cup in Chile, Mexico, despite being knocked out in the groups, emerged with the UFWC. In March 1963, Mexico took on The Netherland Antilles in the CONCACAF Cup. Mexico with a population of 100 million. Versus a small Dutch claimed group of islands in the Caribbean Sea. The Mexicans lost 2-1. And, The Netherlands Antilles became Unofficial Football World Champions - for four days - losing to Costa Rica.

All told around 50 different countries have held the UFWC across 900 or so games. And Italy now take the title into their next game probably against Bulgaria. England have 21 years of UFWC hurt. And counting.

We had a pre UFWC match Horrendous Lemons reunion in The Exmouth Arms behind Euston Station, and now surrounded by HS2 diggings. For the record, I went….

New Bristol Brewery, The Boogie Below, Milkshake IPA on Keg at 5%

Sambrook's Brewery, Half Time Oranges, Pale Ale on Keg at 4.2%

Obviously, this Blog has been a

Congratulations You Have Just Been Informed By The Carrier Bag Firm

production

But, there has been a large amount of plagiarism. And I want to credit The Unofficial Football World Championship website at

https://www.ufwc.co.uk/

and their Twitter @UFWC_Football 

And a separate Twitter Account @ufcw_corner

A superb body of work fellas. Thank you.

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Double Deportee

Italy 1 v England 1

Tuesday 31 March 2015

Juventus Stadium

Twitter @ball_sup

Some history

This is my first time in Turin. I missed what many would consider to be England's most famous match in Turin. The Italia 90 World Cup Semi Final v the Germans. Don't get me wrong, I was around at the time and out & about in Italy. But, by the time of the Semi Final I'd already been deported from Italy. Twice.

I doubt you can Google & find the circumstances. Too inconsequential. Too long ago. Although, eventually, part of the proceedings reached the House Of Commons. Hundreds of England fans were rounded up in Rimini, and put on a plane home. Take it from me. Lots of people were just wrong place, wrong time.

Times were different. Arrest & deportation were just an occupational hazard back then. Get off the deportation charter plane at Gatwick. Get home. Wash, shave, brush up. Off down the travel agents. "Hello mate, what's the earliest you can get me to Naples?"

Take two.

The dilemma is do you a) just hand over your passport in the hotel, thinking, they'll not have got their act together to connect me in a Sorrento hotel to a Rimini plane. Or b) frig about with moody registration details and some blag - illegal, bordering on identity fraud.

I went a). Fair play to Italian Plod. They banged my hotel door down next morning & cuffed me. Long day of processing. Off to Naples Airport. The Police wanted AlItalia to take me free of charge back to London. Not happening. So, the Police agreed to buy me a ticket. Except there were no standard class seats left. So, the Police agreed to buy me a FIRST CLASS ticket. Except AlItalia wouldn't take the Police Credit Card. So one Carabinieri was despatched to the bank to get the Folding Stuff.

Eventually. Walked by the Police to the aircraft steps. Uncuffed. Walked alone up the aircraft steps. Shows ticket. Steward clocks it's First Class. "Welcome aboard, Mr Rose, would you prefer coffee or Champagne before we depart?"

I'm Ball_Sup, you call it.

It's not exactly 25 years ago to the day. But it's close. I dug my cuttings out. I was originally deported from Rimini for "behaviour incompatible with being in a tourist area". Spin spin spin the wheel of justice. What are the charges? Trumped up. How high? Apparently, I was not allowed to return to Italy before 15 July. And hence, I was Bang to Rights the second time.

I'll use the power of the internet to ask, does anyone know a Linda Rose, who used to live in Harcourt Rise, Chapeltown. In 1990, she was married to a David Rose, but not me. (I'm David on my passport). (See photo attached to this Blog). She's a Grass. On the front page of The Star, she was busy assuring family and friends that the Double Deportee was NOT her husband.

The Beer Hunting

I've had good but limited experience of Italian beer hunting. Essentially Rome. And a glorious afternoon halfway up the hill in San Marino. I'm no mug. I know the names, the logos. I know how to research & plan. But its been a right old struggle in Turin. No problem uncovering suitable venues. Just that "the Italian way" includes shutting on quieter days & quieter times. I'm a Day Time Drinker - Loud n Proud.

It is impossible to hit the prime suspects during daylight hours on Sundays &  Mondays. I had to hunker down to Eately Lingotto, Via Nizza 230/14 - 10126 Torino. That won't be everyone's cup of latte. It's a bit of everything. Upmarket supermarket, greengrocer, deli, butchers, cafe, ice cream parlour - and more besides. Crucially a top-of-range off licence. That's open all hours all days. And crucially, Il Fritto e La Birra. An island cafe bar squirrelled away in the basement. That has lunch & dinner opening on all days. On keg, Urquell, Weihenstephan, & Forst as standard. Three rotating. Safe haven.

And finally, at Midnight after the game, I was able to check Petit Baladin, Via Saluzzo, 21. Seven of their own on keg. And lots of their own bottles. Retro style inside. Nice and friendly. But, it being midnight when we arrived, they were essentially shutting the place around us. Nominally opening is billed as Tuesday to Saturday 1830-0200.

The Beer

Birrificio Troll I.P.A. at 6%. From a bottle. Nutty aroma. But very much Seville Oranges in the mouth, souring a little. Flavour has some intensity. A little more burnt toffee coming in the smell. Lacks a bitter hop kick. Although a long if gentle finish.

Soralama Wow! Tre Rubini at 5.8%. From a bottle. A little bit of sourness gives way to spiciness. Thin mouthfeel. A little bit of barley sugar there. Some background bittering. Hint of ginger.

Baladin Nora at 6.8%. On keg. Clear amber in the glass. Pleasant but sort of nondescript spiciness. Leans towards ginger, even cinnamon. Some candied sugar sweetness.

Baladin Isaac at 5%. On keg. Looks like custard. Tastes (a bit) like custard. A glorious Blanche (or was it a Wit or a Weisse). Extremely refreshing & mouthfilling. The citrus is there, but it sort cuts through the beer, rather than hitting you upfront.

Birrificio del Ducato Wedding Rauch at 5.2%. On keg. Fantastic & inviting brown in colour. I'd get some brogues in that shade. Nothing about that is overpowering. Powerful aromas & tastes, in harness.  The smoke on the nose has a very meaty quality. But, it was much gentler in the mouth.

Montegioco Rat Weizen at 4.9%. From a bottle. More golden than yellow. Slightly opaque. Nice powerful upfront flavour. More peppery than citrus. Complex, intense flavour. Some sour aroma, not coming through in the taste.

Le Birre Della Piazza Hopperly at 5.5%. From a bottle. Washing up liquid foam head. First impression. More of an English bitter than an American Pale. More malt lead into a nice bitterness, than neutral & fresh into bitterness. Fair play though. Great hop kick. Hint of orange. Nice tangy finish.

And then the stuff I had in Petit Baladin. Too busy drinking that to make notes I'm afraid.

Baladin Nelson at 5% (Golden Ale)
Baladin - Open at 7.5% (American Pale)
Baladin - Super at 8% (Amber ESB style)

All were welcome & well kept & tasty. But, none stood out. Earlier in the day, I'd had Forst Sixtus on keg at 6.2%. Red ale.

Standout Beer of the Trip. Undoubtedly Baladin Isaac - a superb Blanche.

Spectacular security operation by Italian OB. Keystone Cops. After the match a series of (dis)orderly retreats behind a never ending set of security gates & holding pens. They created a tense situation. Then panicked.

On Smoke Bomb Watch. Some fella has let one off on the shuttle bus back to the town after the game. Sort of white/grey smoke, didn't pong much. But very dense in a confined area. Would have been worse, but some other fella had already put one of the windows through. It was that type of security operation.

Best bit of the game - HKHT. Harry Kane Hang Time. Old skool. He gets up, stays up.

108/252