Cod Almighty | Diary
We're just ordinary men. We're just innocent men.
6 May 2022
BOTB is back. Sorry about that.
Are you excited? I'm excited. It is about this time of the season that every match becomes precious, because we know there are going to be three football-free months to endure. In order to create a party/intimidating atmosphere tomorrow the club wants everyone to wear black and white. I'm doing my bit: I'm bringing a coach load of nuns.
Our opponents are Maidenhead. The Hymens, as they aren't known, seem to be one of those teams who have a decent result one week and a shit result the next, on and on through most of the season until a recent draw-packed six game unbeaten run. Doubtless much of this inconsistency comes from the general crapness of Conference football, in which games are often decided by deflection, errors, chump refs and a sort of bobbly-pitch Brownian motion.
Crikey, here's something. If the game were to be played in Maidenhead, Town fans would have a chance to visit nearby Windsor and see a Bayeaux Tapestry made of butter. We would need to make a complete Manchester City of the last three games of the season to avoid the play-offs, but still, having weighed things up, I'd rather have home advantage even if it means missing out on the butter Bayeaux tapestry.
Our home form has generally been good, of course, so tomorrow at 5pm could be a time for a small celebration. We could still be overtaken by both Dagenham and Redbridge but with them involved in a triple-header away at Solihull Moors tomorrow, we must remain optimistic. Incidentally, have you ever been out on the moors at Solihull? I'm surprised Sherlock Holmes didn't set Hound of the Baskervilles there, so wild and remote and intimidating are they. Possibly Conan Doyle thought the Ozzy Osbourne-style accents of the locals would have detracted from the spooky atmosphere. Not that Sherlock Holmes would know anything of Ozzy Osbourne. He was more of a Paganini man.
My dad played for Solihull, before they became the Moors. Yeah. True story. A butter Bayeaux Tapestry, you say? You want to go and check that sucker out. Admit it!
A big thank you to Deviant Diary for filling in for me during my recent absences. Readers will have had a chance to enjoy the work of a writer who is prepared to do more than two minutes research per season, and who primed them for the weekend's football action rather than twatting on about butter Bayeaux Tapestries. Glory days!
Those of you who have been following the antics of Crawley Town manager John Yems will be aware of serious allegations that he is a complete racist cockwomble. When we last played Crawley I devoted a lot of column space to taking the piss out of his ridiculous surname. At the time I felt a bit guilty, but I have now surely been vindicated. I’m like a warrior for truth and justice, in fact. Thank me later.
Because of the state of the season I am going to forego my usual witless cynicism and make a plea from the heart. Tomorrow, let's go down and support the boys. Let's give the Heads hell! A rush and a push and the land is ours! Once more unto the breach, dear friends! Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war! Melt their tapestries! Let's piggin 'ave 'em!
Tomorrow is what football should be all about. Decent weather, the scents of spring in the air, a packed stadium and enough tension to cut chives. Let us glory in our shared love for this wonderful club, charge up the atmosphere, get into those darn play-offs and see where the footballing fates see fit to take us.
See you there. I'll be the one surrounded by nuns. C'mon up you mighty Mighties!!