Pub 58, Day 23 – Horse & Groom

By Rob

Sitting in The Red Lion, we looked back over the list of pubs we’d visited thus far. Two things were immediately apparent:

1. A disproportionate number of the pubs were in and around the city centre
2. A disproportionate number of the pubs were really nice

Town was where I lived and where Andy worked, so the location issue made sense. However, it was becoming clear that we were rapidly exhausting our supply of easy-to-reach pubs. What’s more, Pubquest was supposed to be about visiting all of Sheffield’s pubs – including places we would never normally go. Focussing on trendy, real ale venues wasn’t an adventure, it was simply an extended night out.

So, seeking to balance the scales a little, we got on a bus and threw ourselves into Gleadless Valley.

Gleadless Valley was the ideal place to go. It was known to be, shall we say, a little rough around the edges, which would help fix our middle-class problem. It was also decidedly not in the city centre, which helped to alleviate our geographical concerns. Finally, we knew of at least two pubs in the Valley and we knew where they were. Perfect.

With the bright lights of the city centre receding behind us, we eventually arrived at our location. Intending to visit The Blackstock first, we disembarked at the nearest stop, greeted by the not-so sparkling sights of the Valley's neglected streets.

It quickly became apparent that The Blackstock was closed (not permanently, just for the night). As experienced pub-goers, we were able to spot those subtle indicators that suggest a venue is not open for business. In this case, the locked doors and total lack of lighting gave it away.

Fortunately, we knew of another pub just five minutes down the road. After Andy slipped in a pile of wet autumn leaves and bruised his arse, we wandered over to the Horse & Groom.

This pub, an unattractive building in its own right, sits across the road from what can only be described as a tip. Now, when I say this, I'm not insulting the surrounding houses – the pub is literally across the road from Sheffield's busiest recycling centre.

Looking at it from the outside, nestled between the Valley's housing estate and a rubbish dump, neither of us were overcome with a desire to rush inside. But this was the cold reality of Pubquest, which we'd ignored for too long. We'd spent our time hopping from one gentrified part of the city to the next, fooling ourselves into thinking it would be like this forever. Now we were being reminded that Pubquest meant going where the yuppies wouldn't. Pubquest was serious business.

“I give it ten minutes before a fight breaks out,” Andy said to me as we walked towards the entrance.

“Don't be such a snob,” I shot back. “I bet it's nicer than you think.”

Once inside, I wore my I-told-you-so smirk all the way to the bar, because the place was absolutely fine. It was a small pub, with a pool table on a raised section at one end of the building. The interior was a little outdated and worn, but otherwise we were pleasantly surprised.

Even the choice of ales was better than imagined (as we had, admittedly, imagined none). We ordered two pints of Bumble Beer and got ourselves seated. The beer – a light amber ale containing honey – was slightly sweet and entirely passable at first, although it gradually morphed into a sickly substance as you worked your way down the glass.

Ever the "greedy, opportunistic pig" when it comes to food (a quote from the man himself), Andy spotted a large selection of sandwiches laid out on a table near the bar. Acutely aware of his surroundings, he decided to enquire about their availability before taking one.

“No,” snapped the woman behind the bar. “They're for the pool team,” she said, nodding in the direction of the pool table and its occupants.

Dejected, Andy sat back down and we began to discuss the pub. I made a great effort to hammer home the point that Andy's immediate impressions from the outside had been wrong, while my open-mindedness was to be commended. I was about to launch into a lecture on the deplorable practice of judging books by their covers, when two drunk lunatics crashed through the front doors.

Looking quite a lot like the Gallagher brothers, one of them staggered to the bar and ordered their pints, while the other stumbled towards the pool table. What happened next can be broken down as follows:

• The newcomers wanted to play pool
• Unfortunately, there was a pool match taking place between actual teams, so that wouldn't be possible
• The newcomers really wanted to play pool
• Again, it was explained that this was a pool match, between teams, and so they couldn't take part
• The two points are repeated, over and over

Eventually, the disagreement ended with pints of lager being thrown all over the shop, with glasses smashing left, right and centre. The two men threw some punches and received some in return. At one point, one of the participants shouted – and I quote – “Listen, I'll bite your fucking nose off you fucking mug!”

The whole ordeal ended with Liam and Noel being ejected from the pub, along with those pool players who had enthusiastically involved themselves in the altercation – which happened to be most of them.

Knowing what awaited me just inches away, I kept my eyes fixed firmly on the pint in my hand. After staring at my glass for as long as possible, I reluctantly turned to face Andy's I-told-you-so smirk, a cold reflection of the one I had worn just minutes earlier.

He glanced down at his watch: “It took six minutes for a fight to break out,” he stated.

Before I could respond, we were interrupted by the barmaid. She was standing there with a tray of sandwiches in her hands.

“Looks like the pool match has finished early,” she said brusquely. “Want some sandwiches?”

Pub: Horse & Groom (426 Blackstock Rd, S14 1JE)
Rating: 3/10
Pint: Bumble Beer
Brewery: Wentworth Brewery (Rotherham)

NEXT UP: Our first guest blogger, at the Porter Brook...