17/12/22 - Bad day at the Black Eagle, Hockley

Good Beer Guide Tick - 771

I really wanted to enjoy the Black Eagle, Hockley. I mean, who wouldn't.

Shining light in the Hockley darkness

This is a significant pub for me. The closest Good Beer Guide Tick to the Albion. Whether public transport is running or not (2022 is the year of the not) it is impossible to make progress on the journey home straight after the game. They close the roads. They introduce queuing at the station.

Instead of settling for traffic rage, I march for 2 miles through what the military would describe as bandit country to find this back street boozer. If you have your hoody up, you are just as menacing as the locals.

From the outside, all looks great. The usual dilemma of choosing left or right from the porch door.  I go left, for the what I expect to be the more gentile lounge. A vision of Black Country mock Tudor.

Saturday night.  5:15. Well more like 5:30.

The experience goes down hill swiftly. Service is from one of two near-teenage girls, should you be able to coax them off their mobiles. I ask for the Golden Glow. Off. I ask for the Butty Bach.  Off.  Do you have any cask ale?  HPA from the other bar is the reply. Whilst she is fetching hat, pandemonium breaks out, as a real ale fan with far more friends than me has dragged a posse in. They too are from the football, although not the Baggies, or indeed Rotherham. Local accents but I could not guess their allegiance from their replica kits. Their first visit too, as I heard them talking about their external photos.

My server comes back from the other bar and instantly assumes we are all together, giving me my "pint" and then taking another half dozen orders. She has my sympathies as she has to go through the whole Golden Glow, Butty routine again. Her task made far more tricky when dealing with a boisterous group that have been on it.

I take my pint to the far end of the room, out of the melee.

Now HPA is a great pint. Its usually crystal clear and pin sharp. This was a short measure of murk. With bits floating in the bottom. 

If I wanted craft, I would have headed into town

Not much of an advert for real ale, CAMRA or heritage pubs.

If there had been a plant-pot, I would have taken away the temptation to try and battle through it.

Instead, it was left for the Soho Tram stop.

All not lost - An idea forms for a West Midlands Metro Station Pub Crawl... a pint at the nearest pub to each station to be completed in 2, possibly 3, stages. 

At least I know the beer is good in the Vine.

And so are the mixed grills (desi style).