Saturday, 2 January 2021


 At school they may try and instil in you unlikely career ambitions or even more improbable sporting dreams, but I knew I had a higher calling. I was going to be a #PubMan. 

Daddy, where do you go in the evening?

A high powered job may give you some recognition in business circles and a fleeting sporting achievement may win you some ephemeral fame but do they give you the respect, admiration and overall satisfaction that comes with being a #PubMan? I think not. 

It is not an easy path to follow. As the years, and decades, have gone by I've kept plugging away, week in, week out, pint after pint. Slowly working my may up to regular status, and when I've moved or the pub's changed for the worse find a new local and starting again. But I've not let the setbacks demoralise me and when doubts have struck (should I have gone on more pub crawls? Is only every being a compleatist for one Good Beer Guide 'county' enough?) I've pressed on. And finally after the most difficult of years I've got the recognition sought for so long. I am a #PubMan. There is no higher accolade. I will walk, and drink, with my head held higher. 


  1. Welcome to the Club. This is a far, far better thing you do, than you have ever done before.

    To the PUB Casketeers!

    Oh. Wait.

    1. That is a bit of a snag. Where do #PubMen get placed in the vaccine queue?

  2. It's an exclusive club, well worth the blood sweat and tears.

  3. Like the Tand, young BRAPA is a real #PubMan, able to enjoy the merits of a couple of pints of Lees with real people rather than a series of thirds of DIPA with beer tickers. (Nothing wrong with DIPA, but thirds aren't for Pub Men).

    I remember taking him to the Queen's Head in Newton, Cambs, one of the venerated "GBG ever-presents". Over a stunning pint of Broadside in a pub interior unchanged in a century he pronounced "Mmm, self-satisfied, staff wearing shirts with pub name on them, no drunks, not for me". And he was right.

    Welcome to the club.