Man of the match awards
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Review previous campaigns covered by Cod Almighty
Monday 26 December 2011
Football Conference Premier
Garner (52), Hearn (61)
|Farman, Sinclair, Gowling (Beardsley 60), Hinds, Nutter, Power, Thompson (Russell 76) , Christophe, Platt, Sheridan, Laurent (Perry 69)
||McKeown; Wood, Pearson, I'Anson (Garner 19), Townsend; Coulson, Panther, Disley, McCarthy (Artus h/t); Elding, Hearn|
|Subs not used
|Subs not used|
Duffy, Makofo, Thanoj
Artus, McKeown, Pearson
Attendance: 5506 (1717 Town fans)
Click here for an explanation of this post-match factfile
Cod Almighty man of the match: Scott Garner
As Town didn't bother playing for the first half, this was only half a game. So someone only gets half a biscuit, which is better than half of nothing. Townsend was excellent throughout, apart from the time he wasn't and they scored. But Scott Garner made a difference with his Gallic press on Laurent, so he gets his half a pint of milk stout to go with his cheese footballs. Luxury.
Our MoM awards so far this season
One of our gaffers says
"The first half certainly belonged to Lincoln and I thought we dominated most of the second half and looked dangerous."
More from BBC Sport
Their gaffer says
"In the first half we were fantastic but really we paid the price of not putting the chances away."
More from BBC Sport
Let us regard the first half as a bad sherry trifle. Once that left our system we could resume festivities.
The game changed with the introduction of the fully domesticated Frankie Artus, who added bite and balance, where previously there had been moping shoe-gazing, an emo waif straying onto a football pitch. Town started to tackle, to finally twig the Lincoln method and stand near Power once in a while. And we all felt like Audrey Hepburn, for Town could have danced all night and still have begged for more. Town spread their wings, and did a thousand things they've seldom done before.
All it took was a tackle or two.
Like a subtle Ebbsfleet without the defensive solidity, the Impytypes scuttled and shuttled busily and effectively for exactly 41 minutes. They had passion, they had passing, they were just conjuring tricksters spinning coins and counting cards. The Lincolnites created an illusion of danger, probably to divert attention from their custard crumble of a defence. Ah, their defence, a loose collection of performance artists and hairy buskers gathered around a human sieve.
When Town awoke from their turkey trotting and realised they were playing a hologram, it was as easy as a peasy morning. Lincoln were an impossibility: a one-dimensional hologram. Huh, the wonders of modern science and that. We'll have talking toilets fitted as standard next.
They had two players who were any good. Laurent was a rocking, rolling baguette of trouble upfront and Power was a turbo Disley with super wide wheels and a sunroof. When Town turned off the Power, Lincoln melted like an old packet of ice pops.
Town ran amok when they took off their 3D glasses. These Imperors had no new clothes, just the same flimsy, huff-and-puff, up-and-at-'em bagatelle.
Grimsby 'til I die... or cry?
Everybody seems to know the score, we've seen it all before: big crowd deflation follows some quantitative teasing. All it took was a tackle or two and the Mariners' mojo was rising. The Dock Tower's still gleaming.
Mr R Joyce (N Yorks)
Successfully avoided making a positive 'big decision', but didn't fail to avoid annoying most in between with some balancing frivolities. He wasn't bad, all things considered, especially when he joined Bradley Wood in the true spirit of Christmas 1951 by seeing men's shoulder-rubbing as an intrinsic a part of modern football as centre partings and cloth-capped keepers. He got a lot of little things wrong, but nowhere near anywhere that would cause offence to ladies who lunch.
Pass the cream cakes, Mrs Llanson-Brunt: 5.765.
Accentuate the positive
The second half!
Eliminate the negative
The first half?