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Mystic Mick's forecast for 22 November

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2002-03

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Mystic Mick's forecast for 22 November

Belated birthday wishes go to little Gio Carchedi and Simon Ford, who turned 20 and 22 respectively on 10 and 17 November respectively, and who are currently sidelined with a pulled hamstring and a wrecked knee... er... respectively. Not a very lucky time to be a Scorpio in a Virgo team, it seems. Talking of bad luck, 22 November is a stinker - Town's 4-1 victory over Burnley in 1997 was their first ever. Not their first win over Burnley, I mean. No, not their first 4-1 win either. Nooooo, or their first 4-1 win over Burnl... oh look, you know what I mean. Stop messing about. The Mariners are a bit rubbish when there are 33 shopping days until Christmas, that's what I mean. They've played eleven, won that Burnley one, drawn two and lost the rest, conceding bucketloads along the way. Now then, the last time I came to you with such foreboding was just before Town got turned over and right royally rogered at Hartlepool. Yes. Now you're paying attention, aren't you.

But is it all doom and gloom? Hey, crazy optimists might say that 1997 turned the tide, and that Town will now win the next nine matches on this date. Well, stranger things have happened... let's see if my regular bunch of soothsayers have any, er... sooth to, like, say on the subject: "Working on a Saturday," begins good old Da Juana's reading. Quite accurate, I guess, cos, like, Town will be working and all that. Anyway: "Working on a Saturday, you may want to take charge of the more important issues..." - yes, excellent. Important issues like goals and clean sheets and stuff.

Sorry, where was she? "... take charge of the more important issues so you can leave early." Eh? What? Shuddup, Byrd, you old nutter. It's bad enough when the crowd decide to start leaving the ground at 3:35pm, but not the bloody team too. I'm sure she's not suggesting the whole team will actually leave the pitch - unless they all get sent off at once or something - she's probably referring to conceding a late goal.

What else has she got to say for herself then? "There may be some sort of confusion... and it may be difficult to steady your concentration." Bloody hell - not looking good, is it. "You have the opportunity to show off your unique and unusual qualities this afternoon." Now what's she on about? Contortionism or something? It's Grimsby Town, not the bloody Cirque du Soleil. "On the home front there are some disturbing energies", she continues. Right, now she thinks she's Obi-Wan Kenobi. I warned her that stuff was strong.

Let's see if Russell Grant is a little less high. "You're about to get through a mountain of work it would take a team of other people to get done", he starts, by which I suppose he means only one player will be on form and have to carry the rest. Then he loses me a bit: "This is a great week to clean out closets... and toss clothing items that have had their day". I hope he's not suggesting we lose the black and white stripes. "Turning unwanted items over to a charitable organisation can make you feel good as you head out to modernise your wardrobe with more updated styles." He is, isn't he, the cheeky bastard. Modernise your wardrobe my arse. Right, Grant, you can shut it as well.

I wonder if I'm going to be disappointed by the geezers at Lucknet too. "You're running around like a chicken without its head," they say. Oh dear - it's going to be one of those Town performances is it? Ooh, hang on: "This is an auspicious time to snag a promotion." Er... there are only three points available on Saturday, you know, not three hundred. Lucky numbers this week include 5, 8 and 15, so perhaps good showings from Crane, and Campbell, and, er... ah. Rowan. Who of course is injured. Ooh blimey - if he'd have been born eight days earlier, he'd have been a Scorpio too, like Fordy and Carchediiyey. Spooky or what. Anyway, Lucknet's final bit of advice for the team is this: "Stress is getting to you. If you don't take a break, you'll have a breakdown." I see. So they think Town should take it easy too. I'm afraid it all points to a lacklustre performance and no points. Nul points. Zero pwant. Il no-o pointeronio: Brentford 3 Town 0.

Other coverage of this match
Mystic Mick's forecast
Alistair Wilkinson's poem
Match stats
Tony Butcher's match report
Jesse Guittard's match report

2003-04 index


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