By
Rob
I'm
sure it hasn't escaped your notice that, for the most part, me and
Andy are exceptionally well-organised individuals. As such, Pubquest
ventures are usually subjected to the most meticulous planning and
careful forethought imaginable. Rarely do we step out onto the road
without having a comprehensive route already mapped out in great
detail.
On
this occasion, however, we'd decided to throw caution to the wind
and just 'go with it'.
So
it came to pass that, high on life and shortcrust pastry, we left The Sportsman with very little idea as to where we were heading.
Trusting in Lady Fortune to guide our feet, we wandered a little ways
down the road and, sure enough, soon found ourselves coming
face-to-face with our next venue: the Crosspool Tavern.
The
building struck an impressive image from the outside, which isn't all
too surprising when one considers that the Tavern had received a
whopping £180,000 refurbishment only ten years earlier. With our
hopes already up, we headed inside.
The
pub didn't disappoint, presenting us with a warm, comfortable, and
old-fashioned interior. We threw ourselves down into two armchairs,
seated before a wood-burner fireplace, feeling immediately like two
vaguely posh blokes in some vaguely posh countryside manor.
Once
we'd staked our claim to the best seats in the house (using the
classic coat-over-the-back-of-the-chair technique) we wandered over
to the bar. The choice of beers was decent,
and we each ordered a pint of IPA India Pale Ale – a crisp session
ale with a hoppy aroma. The folks over at Greene King Brewery insist
that this is "a pint people trust", suggesting you could safely leave
it alone with your kids, keys, and wallet, and return home to find
them all untouched.
Sitting
there in our armchairs, before the fireplace, sipping Indian ale like
a couple of colonial overlords, we mused over where to go next. The
internet was offering no assistance, with Andy's ancient phone being
typically useless, as he'd ran out of data, or credit, or both (note:
for people reading this a few years in the future, the term 'credit'
refers to the way in which poor people used to operate their phones).
My phone, being of the Apple iPhone variety, was out of battery on
account of it having been switched on for more than ten minutes.
Left
with no other recourse, Andy hoisted himself up from the comfort of
his seat and went to ask the barman about nearby pubs. The poor guy
was the only member of staff on duty and was attempting to serve a large
number of thirsty students at the bar, but this didn't deter Andy
from trying to make his life more difficult, and he stayed rooted to
the spot until he finally managed to grab the man's attention. With a
look of mild irritation, the guy told Andy about a pub just a few
minutes up the road. The pub, he explained, was called The Sportsman.
 |
| Sheffield's most expensive pint of Guinness |
Dejected,
Andy came back no more enlightened than before. However, he soon
cheered up when he noticed a sign that advertised the carvery, which
came complete with 'as much pork crackling as you can eat'. I was
then faced with the sad duty of informing my comrade that, in actual
fact, the endless supply of crackling on offer was little more than a
mound of warm pork scratchings. It was a lesson I'd learned the hard
way on a previous visit.
It
was then that we spotted the black-and-white
photograph of the Crosspool Tavern hanging on the wall above us. We
quickly realised that this would make an excellent backdrop for a
Pubquest picture. Looking around the pub, Andy searched for
somebody to entrust his phone to, so that we could both be in the photo.
Amidst
the many students, all of whom were sat around relaxing and doing
very little, Andy decided that the best person to waylay was, in
fact, the overworked and sweat-caked barman who was now scurrying
around the venue collecting empty glasses, clearly in a hurry to get
back to the bar so he could set to work on reducing the queue of
customers.
Andy
stopped him in his tracks and, ignorant of the intense exasperation
that was written plain across the man's face, persuaded him to take
the picture. When this was done, Andy looked at the result and
decided that he wasn't quite satisfied. He therefore asked the barman
to try again, despite my insisting that we should let the man get
back to work.
As
I'm sure you'll agree, when comparing the two pictures side-by-side,
it was clearly worth the re-take...
Pub:
Crosspool Tavern (468 Manchester Rd, S10 5DT)
Rating:
6/10
Pint:
India Pale Ale
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