Cod Almighty | Diary

Promotion is never practical until promotion alone is all that is practical

18 February 2025

Newbegin Diary writes: The Irish socialist James Connolly wrote than revolution is never practical until it strikes, and then revolution becomes the only thing which is practical. It is a quote which the contortions of Keir Starmer bring to mind, in an era when most politicians have almost given up pretending that they can improve people's lives.

Promotion operates on the same seesaw, for it is rarely the end-result of a succession of gradual advances up the table. It might follow after years of patient work behind the scenes, and then everything topples into place. With Town ninth in the table, the seesaw is wobbling, and suddenly promotion is a practical possibility.

We know less than half the picture. As we worry whether our lop-sided wing backs leave us vulnerable on the break, the fans of our rivals are fretting at their own weaknesses, whether its a pair of centre-halves with the turning circle of a truck or a striker who trips over his own feet. We don't need to beat anyone especially good to go up: just teams with a similar mix of occasional excellence and mundane mishaps, covered over by earnest endeavour.

We were worse placed at this stage of the season 35 years ago, the last time we won a fourth-flight promotion, and with no play-off nonsense either. Would you compare Harvey Rodgers with Mark Lever; Kieran Green with John Cockerill; or Danny Rose with Tony Rees? Perhaps not, but the chances are that you are remembering those players at their peak, unless you are basing your judgement on your parents' or your grandparents' rose-tinted reminiscences.

In February 1990, they were little more than the latest set of fallible footballers. Truth be told, we were a little disappointed that they hadn't kicked on more decisively from the FA Cup run of the year before. Only in March, and then over the next few years, did they prove they had been heroes in waiting. Our new generation have the same opportunity. In public they'll stick with the mantra of "one game at a time", but they'd be unfitted for their profession if they weren't wondering what might be possible, and hoping that they can make that stretch into the impossible.

The prize is more than a lifetime knowing that they will always be welcome at Blundell Park. It is what that welcome represents: a place in the hearts of fans who, being fans, never forget our triumphs. Even those which occurred long before we were born.