Cod Almighty | Diary
Call me Ishmael
29 October 2015
He stood atop the Sony building, silent and still as as the leviathan breached beneath the full moon. Its vulnerable flanks shone brightly for a moment, taunting the captain before sliding back beneath the cloud. Below, the city dwellers watched as the Sexwale moved silently, effortlessly between the towers. It strained neon plankton from the balmy night air, leaving an empty blackness in its wake. He was the last of the Sexwales and Blatter had hunted him across continents as he sought control of his realm but... I'm sorry, I got carried away there. Tokyo Sexwale is not some sci-fi cetacean. He is but a man. Not just any man, though. No. He is that rare breed of man: a FIFA official who appears to be clean.
When the list of candidates to succeed the surely bent Blatter includes a man currently suspended pending investigations into illegal payments, Tokyo Sexwale stands proud. His time in prison was for protesting against apartheid and he served his time in Robben Island with Nelson Mandela. At a time when pretty much everybody in world football seems to have been on the take, Tokyo looks to be one of the few not to be indicted by the FBI.
The ongoing investigations into FIFA show us just how big a business world football is, that officials would offer or accept huge sums for their votes to influence the awarding of tournaments. It seems a million miles away from our club's current standing in the football pecking order. And for that I am proud.
I'm proud that when our team is mentioned in the news, it is for its performance on a football field, or for the efforts of its fans in support or fundraising. I'm proud that if we were to ever be accused of buying our way to success, it would be legitimate: that thousands of Town fans offered whatever they could to give their club a financial leg-up and our best chance in years of promotion. Secret payments in brown envelopes, no. The sooner the game is rid of that, the better.
Grimsby's position in the league and chances of FA Cup success are modest, and how we measure success is so different from how fans of bigger, more corporate clubs look at it. Earlier this week the BBC's Match of the Day Facebook page posted a piece about half-and-half scarves and how a Manchester pub had banned them. This was illustrated with images of the offending articles, including a 'fan' holding aloft a horrific scarf which seemed to suggest a link between Wimbledon and the Bastard Francise Scum.
I chipped in, as did many fans, but it wasn't purely one-sided. One commenter went as far as to suggest that the half-and-half scarf is "totally acceptable if it's a Champions League match, one of the most special matches/experiences to go to, a Champions League match is amazing".
I don't see the Champions League as special. It seems a corporate exercise these days, a tournament made to squeeze money out of fans and to increase the gap between the haves and have-nots of European football. I don't watch it. I'm just not interested. I don't see much of a link between that brand of 'football' and what I would pay to see on a Saturday afternoon or Tuesday night. I need something that ties me to it, something other than having eaten an advertiser's burger or drunk a bottle of their pop. "Just 'cause your club never made it," replied another commenter – but you know what? If that's 'making it' then I'm proud that we haven't.
Tokyo Sexwale. That's a hell of a name isn't it? It reminds me of when I was younger, probably 13, when many of my classmates were getting confirmed. For those not of the Catholic persuasion, confirmation is like a reaffirming of baptism once you're old enough to know what you're committing to. Part of the rite is to choose a confirmation name, traditionally that of a saint and I remember my friend Adie coming up with St Sexburger/Sexburga. I don't know whether he went through with it or was persuaded to settle for a rather more traditional Peter or Paul, but at the time it greatly amused our teenage minds. That teenage mind is still sniggering every time I hear or read Mr Sexwale's name. I just can't help it.
Tomorrow night high-flying Cheltenham Town visit fortress Blundell Park and I'm pretty certain that young Conor Townsend will be one of the gaffer's first names on the teamsheet. There's speculation in the Telegraph (the proper one, not the Tory rag) that Townsend might be staying with us a little longer and I reckon there's a pretty good chance. Hull City allowed us to play him against Harrogate on Saturday so it's pretty clear that they don't see him as featuring for them this season. Being cup-tied also makes him less attractive to other teams looking for a loan signing. Hursts is playing his cards close to his chest as per usual but surely here is the perfect loan signing for us – even more so than the Shop!
Here's to being in third place by 9:30 tomorrow night. Up the Mariners and godspeed, Mr Tokyo Sexwale!