The death of local radio, the pubs of Dale Street and an update on the future of The Post
A writer’s edition from Jack
Dear members — time for a look behind the curtain. The Post — at times — can be best described as a duck gliding along the water. Graceful on the surface, but with the legs kicking away in a wild and unseemly frenzy beneath.
After two weightier topics — Ian Byrne’s selection fight at the weekend and the alarming prevalence of “warm banks” in our city on Monday — we’d thought we’d lighten the mood with a piece about Liverpool’s themed drinking holes for Tuesday. Because what are they — a fun quirk or an annoying gimmick? It seemed appropriate for Halloween too; what could be more blood-curdling than spending a Monday night in the Peaky Blinders bar. That was the plan.
Unfortunately, none of the venues planned were open (I failed to check this in advance). I basically walked around for a while, trod in a puddle, nearly got trench foot and headed home. That meant no Tuesday piece and some very unhappy editors in our Whatsapp Chat. When I say a duck gliding along the water, I mean a duck w…