The meaning of progressive, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, is ‘in favour of new ideas, modern methods and change’. My first visit to the Tamworth Progressive Club indicated that the venue does not live up to its somewhat ambitious name.
Aesthetically pleasing it is not, firstly the location does not showcase all that is good in the ancient capital of Mercia…
…it is tucked behind what The King would undoubtedly describe as a ‘monstrous carbuncle’ namely the Tamworth Council House and overlooks a couple of very outdated tower blocks.
The outside of the building is like stepping back in time not only because it looks like a 1970s scout hut…
….but also because etched into the windows are the logos of beers from a bygone era, Northumbrian Smooth, RJ Mild, Kelly’s Lager and LCL Pils, unsurprisingly none of these were available from the bar…I wasn’t (Springfield) bitter about it !! So much for progressiveness….is that even a word?!!
My visit was on a Saturday lunchtime and the expensively put together sign on the door didn’t look particularly welcoming to me as a non member…
….I did wonder however how up to date this ruling was due to the fact next to the sign was a sticker confirming that the club has the necessary licence to show Premier League games from the 2017/2018 season, depressingly it’s far too recent for there to be an appearance of Birmingham City playing in the top flight !! I quickly scanned for a Pathe News accreditation!!
Now I’m not sure if the barman was intimidated by me (unlikely), felt sorry for me (possibly) or simply couldn’t be arsed (almost certainly) but my request for a pint wasn’t followed by a mandate for me to display my membership card !!
First impressions weren’t great, mounted on the wall was a street sign for Trinity Road and there was a woman sat near the bar in a replica villa shirt with Watkins on the back, welcome to hell I thought !!
My experience wasn’t tempered by the choice of draught beers, Coors, Madri, Worthington smooth flow and Carling…
The woman (who I will refer to as Watkins) was drinking the beer once referred to as Black Label and commented to the proud barman ‘You get through some Carling here don’t ya? Mind you it’s a nice pint ain’t it? Very consistent’. There’s no hope for society !!
Watkins’s love for Carling was explained when she recounted an achievement on a girls holiday a few years back, she proudly stated the she once necked a bucket full of drip trays !!
The display case was that full it was reminiscent of the trophy cabinet at St Andrews…
…there are seemingly honours galore for the club and its members though however hard I tried I could not locate Watkins’s drip tray glugger of the year silverware from Ayia Napa 2009 !!
I am aware that these type of places rely on functions to generate income with meat raffles being particularly popular back in the day. A clear indication that the club embodies its name is the appearance of a what I assumed was a very 21st century version of the meat raffle namely a fruit machine entitled Pork Chop, where presumably successful participants can literally bring home the bacon. Disappointingly I discovered it was a bog standard machine with a nod to the film The Last Samurai. !!
It appeared that the club was divided into three rooms, the bar (where drip trays presumably aren’t emptied in the traditional manner) a function room and a games room…
…it was depressingly dreary. Thankfully an entertaining game of Premier League football was being televised (which wasn’t from the 2017/2018 season so I hope the necessary accreditation had been sought!!) namely Wolves v Liverpool. I will admit since the influx of foreign talent at the start of the Premier League I am unfamiliar with the names of a lot of the new players. I needn’t have worried that day though as when Wolves made a substitution in the second half the bloke near me informed me ‘He’s Dogshit’ which I took to being a recent signing from the Eastern European market !!
Towards the end of the game a few more blokes arrived and once one of the group stopped complaining about how much child maintenance he was shelling out the talk turned to local football and the usual Blues v Villa pub bantz. The argument was who had the biggest high profile celebrity linked to the respective club, in the royal blue corner the bar was set high with the NFL’s GOAT Tom Brady however, as much as it grieves me to say it, the claret and blue corner’s choice of the future King of England Prince William probably won that particular battle. I’m not sure if the Blues fan was aware that this particular scribe is reputed to be the joint sixth best pub blogger in Tamworth, I’m sure that’d trump Wills !!
Shortly afterwards the club’s doors burst open and two women entered, one clutching a black bin liner full of inflated balloons and another holding a plate of assorted vol au vents, it didn’t need Hercules Poirot to work out what question was coming next….’Excuse me, can you tell me where the function room is’? Watkins dutifully obliged her mouth practically salivating at the thought of the post party drip trays later !!
Now I’m no betting man however I’m willing to put down a tidy sum that later that night the chicks would’ve been creaming for Greased Lightning when the talkative DJ spun the Greased Megamix to the massed throng high on life, Carling and vol au vents !!
A young boy went up to the bar clutching a fifty pence piece and asked for six lollies, unfortunately the bargain confectionery proved too much for his small hands and a lolly dropped to the floor near where I was sat, I’m ashamed to say I did nothing to help paranoid that had I done so and handed him a lollipop he may think that I was the baddy from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang !!
I did the sensible thing at this point finished off my beer (and not the drip tray) made my excuses and left, I shan’t be applying for a membership!!
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