OK, I didn’t go inside, but it was still my pub

It was some sort of unwritten rule between many of us growing up. Okay, you didn’t go to the pub but at least it was there – like a point of reference.

If ever you wanted to tell someone which area you were from the pub was the place you would mention.

Everyone knew where the pub was and if you didn’t then you weren’t concentrating.

I could go as far as to say that there actually was a sense of pride that this was ‘my pub’.

Did it really matter that we never went inside one? Should it have mattered?

Not everyone visited a pub but they still thought of it as one of their own.

My own pub was the Leamington Road pub. It was right on my doorstep and I have to say from the outside it was a grand place.

Secretly, I actually liked it when they had the Christmas party and the same tunes were played 20 times in the same night.

Yes, there was the odd noise at certain times of year. But who cares?

At least the street wasn’t boring. There was life outside my home and it made for good viewing!

I can only ever remember going inside once to retrieve a football we had somehow managed to kick into the back yard.

It was a strange experience when you have never stepped into one before.

As time went by, I moved on and the pub shut. And then the new one near my home shut.

And so it went on.

So much so I can’t honestly call any pub my own.

Okay, The Lion Hotel on Wensley Road is the best bet.

There seems to have been steady stream of pubs shutting from one street to the next. Recently, I saw the Prince of Wales boarded-up.

As they close down I have to say the area does lose a sense of character.

Now, I am no expert on the whole industry but maybe we have all missed a trick here somewhere.

Yes, we can blame changing demographics but that is not the case for the majority of the pubs closing down.

It seems simple economics is forcing landlords to shut up shop.

Strange how people in future won’t get to see these buildings as they once were.