Cod Almighty | Match Report
by Tony Butcher
19 April 2022
King's Lynn Town 0 Grimsby Town 1
Hello, is there anybody in there?
What a beautiful day, what a beautiful noise comin' up from the park.
First there was The Partridge Family's Doesn't Somebody Want to be Wanted?, followed by Edison Lighthouse's Love Grows where my Rosemary Goes as King's Lynn's Super Sounds of the 70's weekend just keeps on truckin'.
They're playing our songs: music of the future and music of the past.
Red Town lined up in a 4-4-1-1 formation as follows: Crocombe, Cropper, Waterfall, Smith, Amos, Maguire-Drew, Clifton, Fox, Wright, McAtee and Dieseruvwe. The substitutes were Pearson, Burgess, Sousa, Scannell and Abrahams. Trying to make some sense of it all. But I see it makes no sense at all.
Can you see? No, neither can I.
First half: Comfortably numb
It started. Apparently. Who but those leaning on the lamp post on the corner of the street could tell? Ooh, the wind has blown someone's hair away and I can see, I can see! I can see McAtee felled by a talking hairstyle. Don't worry Big John, Dave Moore's laser eyes can ease your pain and get you on your feet again.
Bimbles, bombles, bibbles and bobbles. Slip-shod slaps off wavering shins, it's amateur Aussie Rules.
Wiggling and waggling and their spring flowering golden tomato poked wide. Rolling, rolling, rolling, rolling with some very raw red hides and Denton slithered at Crocombe.
Hang 'em high! It's not good, it's very bad and terribly ugly.
Woah, here we go, football at last. It didn't last. Maguire-Drew tickled and Manny D slithered free, tickling timidly against the keeper's torso.
Wrestling in the boondocks and McAtee remained motionless upon the air. Dave Moore strode out to Big John. What does he want? Just the basic facts. Can you show me where it hurts? You may feel a little sick, but can you stand up?
Oh dear, there's nothing he can do to keep him going through the show. McAtee exited stage left with arm based hurtiness and on came Abrahams.
Kabaddi, kabaddi, kabaddi, kabaddi.
With any luck someone will stand in my way and obscure my view.
There's nothing here. Nothing. A lack of vim, an absence of verve. Gormless, clueless, shapeless, hopeless.
And suddenly moments. Abrahams sniggled free to tip-tap against Jones. Wright followed up and headed goalwards. Coulson scrimbled off the line and there be scrambles. Nearly off the line, off the near line and Cropper's curl crawled over the bar.
And we're back to sleepy old Town.
And suddenly blue moments. Pork-boy Barrett soft-shoe shuffled and slippered against redness. Porky lurked on their left and wimped straight at Crocombe. Junior Widdrington passed through emptiness. They are no more. If they were ever flushed, they are now busted.
Three minutes were added.
A bit of va-va-voom and Amos snapped a cross shot against the post. Out it biffled straight to Maguire-Drew who driggled and draggled and passed across the six-yard box to Abrahams, who failed to miss.
He failed to miss.
Accidents will happen.
Red elations, Fenland deflation. Ricochets and rebounds, stumbling and fumbling, suddenly a trio of Townites bore down on goal. Slipping and sliding, and the ball rolled to Manny D, dead centre. As the keeper ached left Manny D piffled straight down the middle against the remaining fluorescent fingers. What a shocker.
Second half: Shins and sins
Neither team made any changes at half time.
They are an irrelevance.
Let sleeping dogs lie.
Maguire-Drew passed to the unmarked Manny D alone in front of an open goal. In the year 2525 a bluesman arrived to block aside. The corner sailed elegantly across many lands and Waterfall arose alone beyond the far post, looping a header across and over Jones. The ball drooped and dropped beyond vision and, as if by magic, a defender appeared from behind a toadstool to head off the line.
Manny D turned and…well, what do you think happened?
A corner soared, Manny D climbed his beanstalk to freely head and, well, what do you think happened?
Big Scanz© replaced Maximum Wright. You may as well know these things.
The crocked Linnets was dead in the water, sleeping policemen barely bothering our feckless boy racers as they raced around the ring road in their Ford Escorts. Scannell! Shins! The ghost of Geoff Thomas stalks our land.
Wave upon wave of redness into a void and avoiding scoring. Four Townites waited, Manny D slid in to clear. He's their best defender.
Here we go, redemption! Manny D turned and…the ball squirtled off the keeper's derriere. Oh Manny D, Lennie without the subtlety.
With what can only be regarded as some time left Burgess came on for Maguire-Drew. I can't even remember his hair. Four minutes were added. They had a go but went nowhere.
It’s a lovely park, you know.
For the sake of your sanity do not ever think of this game again. Ever.