Cod Almighty | Diary

From BlackBerry to Play-Doh

2 July 2025

Imagine, if you will, a summer in Grimsby/Cleethorpes – not so much a season as it is a mood. The sun has tentatively put its hat on; the club shop is selling old training tops for £9.99, alongside the fresh, new-season kits; and the training ground is once again echoing with the sounds of stopwatches, shuttle runs, and someone wondering 'where Dave Moore is these days'. Pre-season is here and, for once, there's something in the air besides the waft of 'the docks' and cautious optimism. This time, it's data.

Yes, Jamestown Analytics are in. And not just in a "lads, get the Football Manager disc out" kind of way. Proper, Brighton-style data. Expected goals, progressive carries, age curves, decision trees – the sort of thing that might once have earned you a stern look from Mike Newell and a ticket out the door. But not now. Now it's being embraced, like a lower-league podcaster discovering the joys of decent Wi-Fi and not having to record in the downstairs loo (yes, I have very nearly been there).

It's easy to look forward, but let's allow ourselves a glance back. Because there was a time, not so long ago, that we had the chance to be ahead of the curve. Back when John Fenty was at the helm, clinging to tradition like a BlackBerry executive insisting that real phones have buttons. He had the platform, the access, and the opportunity to be football's answer to Steve Jobs. But instead of reinventing the game, we doubled down on keyboard-clad phones!

While Brighton were building a recruitment model that would eventually turn Alexis MacAllister and Moisés Caicedo into headline-makers (and headline-sellers), we were perfecting the art of signing players who'd just been released by Chester. It was like watching a man try to steer the Titanic with a rudder from a canal boat! All the while data revolutionised a handful of football teams and we, stubbornly, refused to download the update.

It was the same story as BlackBerry. Dominant for a time, but caught flat-footed by innovation. While the world was swiping, tapping, and living in an ecosystem of infinite apps, we were still proudly typing with our thumbs, convinced that what worked in 2007 would somehow carry us into 2025.

But now? Now we have owners who think differently. Stockwood and Pettit don't just want to modernise; they want to maximise. They want marginal gains. They want to find the next George McEachran, watching as he turns up and weaves his way out of a tight space into legend status. They want Play-Doh.

Yes, Play-Doh. That humble, squishy saviour of childhoods everywhere. Born as wallpaper cleaner in a world of coal dust, it found new life in a classroom. Someone looked at the soot-sponge and saw a toy. That's what innovation looks like. That's what Jamestown brings. Not wallpaper cleaner – but the imagination to know what it could be.

We're not saying it'll lead us to the Premier League. (Though... if it does, please remember where you read it first.) But this new approach means we're no longer shopping in the clearance bin of chance. We're doing it smarter. We're hunting value, finding upside, and giving ourselves a shot. Not because we're copying Brighton, but because we've finally realised we can do more than just survive.

And in a town where trawlers once launched into the vast waters to haul in riches from the sea, isn't it fitting that we’re casting our nets differently now?

Quietly. Thoughtfully. With purpose.