Cod Almighty | Match Stats

Tuesday 23 October 2018

Division 4

Grimsby Town 1 Thomas (65)

Colchester United 0

Attendance: 3662 (127 away fans)

Little Harry ran around and round and round and round like a Duracell bunny, matching the mintmen and even outleaping Big Harry. Persistence and passion is always in fashion with the corporates who fell in love with Harry Clifton.

Will it be Harry, will it be Mitch, will it be Luke Hendrie? Que sera, sera, it's Collins and Whitmore for being quietly effective.

It's all obvious: he's really pleased, we're really pleased, you're really pleased. What are we pleased about? The shape is getting better all the time, for...

"We kept a good shape"

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For Mad Mog McGreal it was nip and tuck as they huffed and puffed, but they couldn't blow the Townhouse down because...

"They stuck at it and put bodies on the line like we had at Morecambe on Saturday, to get the three big points."

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Town were negatively competent. Apart from the times they weren't. But that's what James McKeown is for.

Collins and Whitmore got in the way of everything, Hendrie scuffled effectively as long as he didn't have to kick with his left foot. Hall-Johnson again had a fitfully fretful evening against tricky opponents. As an attacking force Town were rather bereft and simply hung on to what they had. But hanging on in quiet desperation is the Grimsby way.

Town are still a bit too weedy and lacking in competitive stamina, but they made up for that by standing in the right places and generally getting in the way.

Remember the collective is greater than the individual. All for one and one for all.

A big bunch of lads, they have the physical heft and the internal coherence to go far. They had a fine mix of bruisers and cruisers, with pace on the flanks, brawn where needed and some slippery tickers in the centre of midfield. Pell was not the conqueror today, even declining to tumble a time or two, whilst Lapslie ruled large swathes of Blundell Park. Sideways.

They're a team. They should be in the play-offs at least, up there with Exeter, like a footballing Lincoln.

The silent majority stayed with the team, and in the ground, until the end.

Mr G Salisbury (Lancs)

Was as much of a pest as any Colcestrian with wilful antagonising of monochromers. He made choices consistently against the laws of science and nature, with a specialism in stupidity when it came to halting play for injuries. He just couldn't remember who had the ball, where. Another egregious example of erratic error-strewn nincompoopery: 5.555.

From doubting Thomas to clouting Thomas.

In a word: rosy