The only reason a trip to the Cramer Hotel could be worthwhile is if you are a fan of Seinfeld. And thirsty. And slightly brain damaged.

It would be fair to say that there is absolutely nothing to recommend the Cramer Hotel. Sat right next to the Northern Bullants football oval, across the road from the Preston Market (or more correctly, the Aldi store at the Preston Market), this is the PubTab that embodies all that is wrong with modern day pubs.

Trouble was brewing before we arrived - there was not a car park to be had in the whole of Preston and the rain was pelting. After combing the car park like a bald guy trying to find a hair, we eventually settled for a spot about an hours walk away.

The pub is huge. To try to encapsulate the size, attached is an image of the men’s urinal. This is both bigger and colder than any football ground urinal in existence.

The punting area is badly organised. There are screens scattered throughout but no real area of focus - pool tables spread among form guides, the bar splitting the area into 3, screens with footy (including the game on right outside at Preston oval) and just too many people doing too many things other than punt.

It was impossible to assess the area for usual signs of punting detritus, given the overflow from the market and the footy. Perhaps the only saving grace could be the possibility of doing a bit of shopping and taking home some lovely fresh produce to compensate for a poor day on the punt.

There was, as always, a special haircut. This man was easily into his 50s, had a personally designed facial hair arrangement and a punting hat, a la the Gleeson (Des, that is) with a small pony tail popping out the back.

And to top it all off, this was the first outing with non-smoking in effect. It just can’t be right when a genuine punter is having to yell in from the cold “What won the 5th in Sydney?”. I say lets give them their own island.

In short, avoid the Cramer