Cod Almighty | Diary

It's Only a Winter's Tale

29 April 2022

It is time for you to start all of your sobbing, for these words have emerged not from your usual Friday funster, but from the Very Reverend Deviant of Diaryness, very much the Mike to BOTB's Bernie. We apologise for this interruption in service, but an unexpected employment opportunity emerged. I know what you're thinking now: so who's Schnorbitz in this analogy?

In the 1970s they used to make public information films warning of the dangers of life, mostly narrated by Donald Pleasance. And tomorrow we go South, a place ready to trap the unwary, the show-off, the fool. It's the perfect place for an accident.

There's dos and there's don'ts for us heathens when wandering through the land of sophistication: do keep your heads, don't get edgy in Edgware, don't just keep your joshing for the Jubilee Line. And remember: don't bosh a steward on the bonce, it's a hanging offence down there in Metroland.

Ah, memories of debatable inflatables are warm and clear, everybody knows it's hard to stay at home when Town are away in Barnet at this time of year. Yes! Or perhaps no! Season to taste. Our regular match reporter is, like Jon McAtee, unavailable this weekend, Matt, but we hope to have a replacement bus service to take you safely to your destination. At least you'll be spared the usual impenetrably mangled mash-ups of Hemmingway and Humperdink, Dickens and The Doors, Shakespeare and his Sister Sledge.

Poets, priests and politicians have words to thank for their positions. What's your position on the condition Town's condition is in? I just dropped into the quarterly teams update from the Big Three on the DN35 podcast at 6:35 last night and I have to say it was the dirtiest podcast I have watched for some time, a right Cook and balls story. Filth! One year on from the deFentystration and Chairman Wow poo-poohed the idea of spending £25m for a new ground but promised everyone a bidet.

He, they, believe in Hurst's work, for they have knees that don't jerk. It's all very sensible, rational and professional. Jason of the Stockits has a simple approach: he doesn't promise you a miracle but belief is a beautiful thing. Boo, we need nuttiness for clickbaits.

So there we are and here we are as May creeps towards us: no McAtee, no BOTB and no Elliott the Ewok to ask The Hurtsmeister bland nonsense. So it's not all negative.

Just purse your lips and whistle. It's time to laugh and smile and dance and sing for that's our thing at Barnet.