Cod Almighty | Diary

Irrelevant Elephant

8 October 2025

People living near Blundell Park reported hearing the noise of a small crowd inside the ground last night. I'm not sure what was going on. Probably a circus or something. 

So what are we going to talk about on this fine, crisp Wednesday morning in early October? Jamie Walker's brave grooming choice, ie a standalone moustache? How many goals this season have been scored or made by Charles Vernam, and where would we be without him? Cameron Richardson-Eames singing GTFC chants in the style of the musicals on Radio 5? How much I love Cameron McDammit Janet and his warrior spirit? No. Apart from the moustache, they are all too nice, too positive, too cosy. 

Imagine if Monty Python's Dead Parrot sketch had been about a man whose parrot was alive and he was very pleased with the service. That would be a tough comedy write, and so it is at the moment at GTFC. Our best league position for years, one game away from the quarter finals of the Caribou, and only probably another 20 or so points needed for safety. Life as a Stripey has rarely been better than this in the last 20 years, which leaves the bitter, miserable back-of-the Pontoon lemon-sucking diarist rather at a loss. I could describe managers past and present in rhyming couplets for a while. Paul Hurst was not the worst, Russell Slade was overpaid, Dave Artell is doing well, Michael Jolley was a folly, Ian Holloway's a wanker. Oh well, it worked for a while. 

Wednesday is also a tricky day because we are betwixt and between proper games. The Monday and Tuesday diarists can talk, quite reasonably, about the Salford game. The Thursday and Friday diarists can fear no embarrassment when they talk about the forthcoming Colchesters Clash. Wednesday is the weekly equivalent of June in football terms. 

Oh look, dammit. I can't do this any longer. We played Doncaster in the Virtue Signalling Cup at BP last night and lost 3-0. According to the few hardy souls who went, Gilsenhall came on and looked good, Soonsup was good but lacked physicality, Danny Rose looked knackered and Doncaster treated the whole thing much more seriously than we did. We also scored a comedy own goal. I didn't want to talk about this but everything else Town-wise is quieter than the voice of Nigel Farage's conscience. 

I know. I've not only let myself down, I've let the whole of Cod Almighty, GTFC and the North East Lincolnshire region down. But you try and write a Wednesday diary without mentioning the irrelevant elephant in the room. Gah.