Nob and Nobby

I don't suppose it should have been too surprising to encounter no-necked text pest Craig Bellamy in a Cardiff nightspot on Saturday night, given his roots in the Ely area of the city (and his history of getting into scrapes in the Welsh capital) - but what certainly did take me aback was the identity of his companion, dressed in pristine white shirt: one Nolberto Solano.

While Bellamy was busy banging in a brace at the Bridge to send Chelsea to their first home defeat for 18 months, Nobby's Saturday afternoon was spent warming the bench as his new club Leicester did us a big favour by delivering a heavy blow to their local rivals' Forest's promotion hopes.

So it was quite a way for the pair of them to have travelled, and to hardly your typical crass Cristal-on-tap footballers' hangout. Gwdihw's a rough-around-the-edges, leftfield and slightly eccentric cafe bar that was playing host to the mini music festival our friends had organised. If only our Peruvian friend had brought his trumpet along, he could have joined in.

To his credit, Nobby dealt politely with the grinning idiot blathering about Newcastle and thrusting a sweaty palm in his direction when he was trying to get a drink, and posed for a photo (blame the quality on the fact that shortly after it was taken the photographer decided to himself off home as he couldn't stand up properly...).

Bellamy, meanwhile, claimed he had a clause in his contract which meant he'd be "fucked" if he was photographed, but at least had the decency to donate £5 (in pound coins) to the charity in aid of which the festival was being held. We'll have a little chat about Wor Al next time, Craig.