#NationalBassDay & #NationalIanDay

National Bass Day is looming large on the horizon (Apr 16 to be precise)  and a big doff of my cap to Ian Thurman AKA The Wickingman who has been instrumental in setting this up.

There are a comprehensive list of boozers serving Burton’s finest export – read here – and, along with Ian Webster who is responsible for the pub crawl Burton Ale Trail they are putting Bass and Ian’s back on the map.

Personally, and I’ve got no bias on this, it’s a name that is surely due to come back into vogue and I’m fully expecting a baby boom of Ian’s to celebrate the recent work of both Thurman and Webster!

Talking of names, Shrewsbury has a uniquely monikered pub, 730 – The Cross Foxes SY3 7DE, that also happens to sell Bass.

Before Dave comments that he thought this was a pub for disgruntled Leicester City supporters I can confirm it is near to that annoying River Severn that floods a lot in Shrewsbury and this place was flooded as recently as February.

On the outskirts of the town centre, this a bona fide old skool pub for locals and Bass aficionados and having spent three days at a football festival in Shrewsbury I thought I should stop off here just in case Bass sells out on the big day.

I mean, you never know, stranger things have happened.  For example, Birmingham City scored and beat West Bromwich Albion this weekend.  That’s right, it’s not a typo but the first victory over the Baggies for fifteen years and first goal since Martin drank cask other than Doom Bar means we are safe for another season (of purgatory).

I don’t want to labour the point but I know that The Travelling Barman, Mappiman (another Ian -it really is a fashionable name), Marty and Carl occasionally read this blog so I’ll mention it again!

Anyway, back to the script and what a gem of a pub this is.  Smoke Room and Bar etched onto the front windows, a big Bass sign out the front (apparently not bought off eBay) and the place just oozes pubbery.

There’s about seven lads at the bar when I arrive and it is noticeable that everyone is perched around the bar and the humour is brutal.

The only other bloke apart from me not perched at the bar was rolling his own on a table, but he joined in when required as the pub banter was flying.

An old boy watching the racing channel was chief wind up merchant and the debate was raging as to whether it is Sh – rooo – sbury or Sh – row – sbury.  It was funny as and the barman was creased up while the air was turning blue.  The final verdict was, only people who were either pukka or from Black Country said Sh- row – sbury, and, as Paul WME knows, there are no pukka punters in Wolves so that’s two different types of pubgoers.

Shroo/Shrow biscuits, sausages, horse racing and general pub nonsense were the order of the day and a couple of lads left and another couple arrived with the banter continuing regardless.

Any pub that has a load of barflies and racing on the TV is my kind of pub.  It might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I spent half an hour chuckling away and I reckon it is like this all day every day.

The chief p*** taker kept saying “I’m not normally here on a Monday but…” and it started again…Top class banter at around 3.30 on a Monday afternoon and, as I appeared to be the only punter on Bass, it was in great nick.

Most of the lads were on lager and this is the point.  The pub is always king and the drink is secondary…however, let me be the first blogger to celebrate #NationalBassDay and #NationalIanDay with a pint of amber nectar.