Cod Almighty | Diary

Put a mackerel in your crackerel, but now we've got to get backerel

25 June 2020

Bottom-of-the-Barrel Diary writes: So, Donald Trump in the White House, Boris Johnson in Number 10, Osama Bin Laden watching Leeds United and "White Lives Matter" banners being flown above empty premiership stadiums in late June as the season draws to a close. Is it just me, or has Billy the Fish gone downhill? Well, it can't be me who has gone downhill. I rolled to the bottom many moons ago.

First we should have a show of hands. Is anyone still listening? It’s the infamous Thursday in the lockdown-shattered close season diary, and there is little information to impart. I've been asked politely to stick to football by people who presumably have never read one of my football-related diaries and don't know they are even duller than the political ones.

So, football eh? I wonder what Clive Mendonca’s brother is up to?

Sir Clive vies for the top spot in my footballing affections with Sir Bobby of Cumming, which got me to thinking: .how do you decide who your favourite player is? Do you maturely brush the question aside, and say you are too old for such childish games? Or do you say "it's Dave Gilbert and anyone who says a bad word about him must repent or die?" Is it goals scored, memories created, magical moments or just an imagined kinship?

Some players are just - seventies slang alert - cool. Paul Futcher was cool. Mike Brolly was a great player but as cool as collecting Guernsey stamps. Dean Crombie had the same haircut as the singer from the Vapours, which always endeared him to me, so he goes in the cool box. Nathan Arnold – cool. Gordon Hobson, great player, but... OK, you get the message.

There's not much else to think about, so why not think about that? What? You can think of a million reasons? Oh, away with you.