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Branch Membership increases

Total membership of the branch stood at 652 in January 2012. Of these 70 were under 30 years of age and 41 were under 26.

Church House is named top boozer
Published on Tuesday 29 November 2011 16:39 in the South Yorkshire Times

A PUB in Wath-upon-Dearne has been named Autumn Pub of the Season by the Rotherham branch of the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA).

Members passed a unanimous vote to give The Church House the award and praised their fundraising activities, which recently included raising £1300 for Radio Hallam’s Cash for Kids scheme.

The pub also got recogniton for having six real ales on the pump at any one time.

Representatives of Rotherham CAMRA will present the award to staff tomorrow (Fri Dec 2nd at 9pm).

Rotherham CAMRA Pub of the Season - Winter 2012

The Loyal Trooper, South Anston

Rotherham CAMRA Pub of the Season - Autumn 2011

The Church House, Montgomery Sq., Wath

Rotherham CAMRA Pub of the Season - Summer 2011

The Blue Bell, Woodall Lane, Harthill

ROTHERHAM CAMRA PUB OF THE YEAR - 2011

The Beehive, Union Road, Harthill

ROTHERHAM CAMRA CLUB OF THE YEAR - 2011

Phoenix Sports & Social Club, Pavilion Lane, Brinsworth

Recent Social Trips - Dave's Diary

A Tale of Two Cities!
(A rail ale tour of Huddersfield and Marsden)

This, the first ramblings of a fat lad from Doncaster focuses on the 'Rail Ale Trail' with a twist; Richard of Wentworth brought the ale to the rail!
The day began in bright, warm sunshine, as CAMRA members together with several members of the Swinton Mafia boarded the 12.42pm Northern Rail service from Meadowhall to Huddersfield ,calling at Chapeltown, Wombwell, Barnsley, Dodworth, Silkstone Common, Penistone, Denby Dale, Stocksmoor, Brockholes, Berry Brow, Lockwood and Huddersfield. The old railwayman is still in the blood!
Rotherham's answer to the great AW of the fells and 'AW' of the globe (for the un-initiated read Alfred Wainwright and Alan Wicker) came dressed for an epic journey. Rumours quickly circulated among the bunch of intrepid explorers that the said great man dressed that morning in complete darkness! Rumours incidentally, not perpetrated by your noble scribe or venerable members of CAMRA but by a member of the Northern Rail crew, again speculation from the same source claimed that on seeing him the driver of the train was extremely tempted to drive past!
The fearless fifteen landed at Huddersfield and de-camped in the Kings Head. Timothy Taylor's Dark Mild (ABV 3.5%) was consumed by the lightweights whilst a section of the Swinton Mafia swiftly drank copious amounts of Oakley Blonde (ABV 4.0%), well a pint and two halves!
The next port of call was the real ale metropolis of Marsden. The packed train emptied with a mad rush to the nearest hostelry, it was every man, woman and child for themselves! First port of call the 'Riverhead Brewery Tap'. The place was absolutely bursting at the seams with hoards of eager drinkers anxious to sample their favourite tipple. Scenes reminiscent of the huge crowds that flock to the Keepmoat Stadium to watch the mighty Doncaster Rovers and the magic spun and weaved by that maestro and master tactician Mr Sean O'Driscoll! Bar staff of the aforementioned pub confirmed that it was the same every weekend. Then a sight to behold!! Goth Morris dancers! SCARY!!
And so to the New Inn where menus were called for and fine food eagerly devoured, but keeping up with the 'Fat Lad' and 'AW' tradition your exuberant scribe sought and, after a long painstaking search, found a fish and chip shop. The fish and chips were good; the chips exceptionally so because on my way back to the station they were eagerly devoured by many of my new female friends!! Could have sold them twenty times!
The courageous explorers arrived at the next destination Slaithwaite or 'Sloughit'. The Commercial Inn was the first hostelry visited with yet again huge crowds. By now fine ales are being consumed at a fair rate of knots. It would be at this time of the proceedings that John, the green army Geordie, would perform his famous party trick but sadly the operation now prevents this. For those unaware of the exploits of our bespoke leader and world record holder, here dear reader are the facts. The chair of the green army holds the world 'apple eating' record. Anyone can do that I hear you cry! But with a twist! The dynamic consumer of grannies finest ate them through the strings of a tennis racquet!! Again not a lot of people know this, but in the late forties and early fifties he toured the South West of England performing George Formby impressions. Unfortunately rapid strides in modern dentistry have provided our champ with a set of teeth reminiscent of a piano keyboard.
I digress, the Wharfside Inn was the next hostelry visited. Proper rugby league country this with Wigan Warriors playing Huddersfield Giants on all TV screens watched by families of all ages, what sort of game has un-contested scrums? Memories of Rotherham Titans being flattened by the knights of Doncaster!
Finally the troops landed in the Grove, Huddersfield, eighteen real ales for consumption, DEEP JOY!! Team crisps and salted peanuts were devoured with great relish together with Mexican worms. Real worms that have probably never seen or even heard of Mexico but don't let that spoil a good a story. Volunteers were asked to relieve the said worms of their sombreros and try them, surprise surprise, no takers! Bring in the fat lad to save the day! A bit like eating solid sheep dip!
So the day ended with a mammoth hike back to the railway station and the train home. The valiant explorers duly landed safely in Rotherham. A massive thankyou to Phil who made all this possible!! If you enjoyed the above ramblings then another awaits, if you didn't then blame Phil!!

Elland Brewery and a re-enactment of the invasion of Huddersfield!

First of all dear reader I would like to quash the rumours that have circulated throughout South Yorkshire, namely, why a fat lad from Doncaster became a member of probably the finest group of CAMRA members in the country, even though it is in Rotherham! It simply isn't true that I had my pass revoked when attempting to enter the exalted town of my birth. The fact that I was an adopted Lincolnshire yellow belly at the time also had nothing to do with my new found allegiance. I digress, if you would allow me to be serious for the briefest of moments; the good that came out of possibly my worst year in 2010 was becoming close to two of the most awesome people that I have ever known. I won't embarrass them by naming them but you, my faithful followers, know who they are. The green army has just benefited by quite a sum of money!!!
And so to more important matters in this the further scribblings of a fat lad. I will talk about some fine ale, a new meaning to the OBE award and a meeting with a notorious criminal and an audience with Simon Cowell!
The day Saturday July 9th, the time 12.08pm, the destination Elland Brewery. Mr Page and the famous, some would say infamous, Warburton brothers occupied the naughty boy's seat at the back of the coach. Spirits were high in anticipation of another incursion of West Yorkshire. The mafia of Swinton were again at full strength though the dingle was conspicuous by his absence.
And so dear reader it came to pass that the 30 brave souls arrived at the brewery after a diversion via Leeds. Our host for the next few hours greeted us at the door and embibed health and safety tips for the troops to digest and adhere to. One such tip was the wearing of high heeled shoes and how this could present a hazard, exit stage right by the chair of the green army to change his footwear for fear of walking around the building with a drain cover firmly attached to the 5" heal of his black patent leather shoes!
The beer was exceptionally good and drank with great relish. Kama Citra (ABV 4.5) was particularly pleasing and proved extremely popular with its pale colour and long, lingering citrus taste.
Meanwhile an audience with the venerable Bede, aka Mr Sean Page, provided a whole new meaning to our gracious majesty's most prestigious award, the OBE. Twas whilst on a jolly to London accompanying the James Herriot of the legal profession Mr Stephen Smith who was to be bestowed with the illustrious award; whilst partaking of a beverage in a local hostelry they stumbled across one of the great train robbers. Conversation turned to the reason the duo from god's wonderful county was visiting our beloved capital. He's getting the OBE said Sean pointing to Mr Smith, 'One Behind the Ed' replied the 20th century Dick Turpin. 'What?' enquired the venerable Bede. 'One Behind the Ed', came the reply, 'that's what we gave the driver, One Behind the Ed'. Fits of laughter ensued that were mainly as a result of the Bede's rubbish cockney accent!!
The time 2-46pm, and fine ales are being consumed at a great rate of knots with the participants thawing out in the brewing area. There appeared, as if out of nowhere, a fine buffet lovingly created by the best looking CAMRA official it has ever been my privilege to set eyes on, Tracy isn't bad either!!! Just to say on behalf of everyone, Tracy, John AWESOME!!
Of all the beers, one that proved quite popular, Beyond the Pale (ABV 4.2) was quite tasty with its golden colour and lovely floral aroma. Another particular favourite was American Pale Ale (ABV 5.3) with a distinct hoppy flavour. But the undoubted star of the show was 1872 Porter (ABV 6.5) made to an original Victorian recipe, rumour has it, supplied by our esteemed chairman Jim Crowe from his scribblings made as a 13 year old school boy whilst attending Bluecoat prior to it being transformed into a local hostelry.
My tale continues with the 30 courageous souls again entering that Mecca of real ale Huddersfield!
The intrepid bunch of marauders dropped anchor at The Grove and sadly went their separate ways. This is where, dear reader, judgement becomes a little cloudy. I fear I was struck down by the age old affliction of 'scribe blindness'. Let me explain the afore mentioned medical condition, omitting the medical jargon I cannot decipher my incoherent scribblings; this despite the fact that I have my 'jam jar bottomed' spectacles perched precariously on my somewhat rather wide nose; typical of a fat lad from Doncaster I hear you cry!!! Thus the remainder of this yarn is written from memory. This, coming from someone whose work ID badge is worn principally to remind me of who I am, is quite an achievement.
The two pubs that proved the most popular were the afore mentioned Grove offering 18 real ales from regional and micro breweries and Huddersfield's pub of the year the Rat and Ratchet. It was whilst walking between these two fine inns that the band of brothers and sisters stumbled across a Caribbean carnival with reggae and rap music echoing throughout the town. Enter Foggy, Compo and Clegg in the guise of Mr Paige and Messrs Warburton, who, again rumour has it, heard that a certain Simon Cowell was in the audience. They leapt onto the stage and unceremoniously grabbed the microphone from a startled and somewhat bewildered young rapper and continued to give the dumbfounded audience a rendition of 'My Way'. They certainly did it 'their way' amid loud calls of 'rubbish' and 'get em off' from the crowd who were rendered speechless by Page's body popping all over the stage! Not taking no for an answer from the illustrious Mr Cowell proved to be the parting of the ways for the crooners. Kev became detached and, using all of the knowledge he gained whilst serving in the Girl Guides, proceeded to go by taxi to the Grove. Did you know dear reader that there are two 'Groves' in Huddersfield? Nor did I and indeed did Kev, you know what's coming! Yes, he was dropped off at the wrong Grove. Departure time came and went, still no Kev. Suffice to say that the brothers were re-united amid tears of joy and boarded a train back to Rotherham.
Loyal followers of the 'Fat Lad's Gospels' will have noticed the sudden inclusion of references to beer. I thought it might be prudent to act upon criticism from the esteemed 'Booker Committee'. Yes dear reader, one of my loyal band of followers recommended my garbled prose for a 'Booker' literary prize! Needless to say the application was scoffed at with the words 'What has this got to do with beer?' rest assured that normal service will be resumed in the next edition of 'Scribblings of a Fat Lad from Doncaster' with a full and detailed account of an invasion of Moorgate.
It is with great sadness, and indeed a faint tear in my one good eye that I have to relate to you, my cherished readers, the demise of the Toad Brewery. For those who are unaware it was situated by the side of the Keepmoat Stadium, home of the finest football team in the wonderful county of Yorkshire. What a to do! Where to go for a pre match tipple?
Rovers Till I Die

A Day in Hawaii

Further ramblings of the fat lad from Doncaster.
Saturday July 2nd saw the intrepid explorers board a bus of the mini variety, destination the Arkwright Arms beer festival. The only thing missing in today's proceedings was the phrase 'Book him Danno'. I am reliably informed that the phrase was made famous by the hit TV show 'Hawaii 5 0'. I hope my source is reliable as I am too young to remember!
The Hawaiian theme was in abundance with grass skirts, flowered shirts and pink wigs to the fore, that was just the blokes! The Swinton Mafia were today at full strength, sadly the number has dwindled with the resignation of the lightweight from Barnsley, Nigel the Dingle. Stevie B was resplendent in his flowered shirt from Next, emphasis on Next! However, his super cool image was truly shattered when the woman of his dreams stood next to him wearing the same shirt; a 95 year old Norah Batty look a like resplendent in grass skirt, varicose veins covered with wrinkled stockings and sandals!!
Robert the brave looked quite dapper in his cream Armani suit, Geoff Boycott type fedora and flower shirt, £3.99 from Asda!
Fine ales were being consumed with great relish in the searing heat of a Derbyshire summer. The Raw Brewery's 'Apollyon' (ABV 6.8) was particularly fine as was the 'Grey Ghost' taste-a-like 'Hoprush' (ABV 4.8).
The day was going swimmingly, a game of 'Spoof' was held on the veranda, must be a Rotherham tradition; the maths left a lot to be desired 3 hours into the epic mission.
There were people present of all ages, shapes and sizes, your venerable scribe feeling quite slim!! A Goth dressed in shorts with boots large enough to sink a battleship tried the bouncy castle, needless to say the castle succumbed and quickly lost its bounce!
The fat lad tried for a journalistic scoop but was unable to arrange an in-depth interview with the proprietor of Rotherham's newest, state of the art brewery, the famous, some would say the infamous, John Johnson. What actually prevented such a magnificent opportunity was the age old CAMRA tradition of drinking beer and talking ballcocks!!

Rovers till I die
David

Tribute to Eric hirons-Smith

The following paragraph appeared in the Scotsman paper following the beer festival at Troon, Ayrshire and it refers to the recently deceased Rotherham CAMRA member Eric Hirons-Smith. A special tribute to all those who remember Eric.

Eric’s Ale, a newcomer from the Sulwath brewery in Castle Douglas, is named for Eric Hirons-Smith, a great champion of real ale, who died in March at the age of 76. He lived in Rotherham but travelled to Troon, his favourite beer festival, each year. There’s a wee photo of him on the font. His son, Andy, has travelled up from Warwickshire to drink Eric’s Ale. “It’s sad and I miss him a lot,” he says. “But I feel a real sense of pride that he is being remembered in this way.”

Cheers,

Paul