Cod Almighty | Diary
And then he buggered off to Yeovil Town
28 February 2025
Your A46 Dairy has been feeling nostalgic this week after listening to Pete Green's guest slot on the View From the Findus podcast. I share their delight in the Wembley memories, especially now that we get to take our own children to these events, and good old Phil Jevons, his goals, his contract, his loan at Hull, his departure to Yeovil. And, of course, Pete's Ballad of Phil Jevons, a classic that I'd not heard in way too long.
Older memories, like that hat trick from Mendonca when he made his return from injury, are so clear, as is Pete's poem on Super Clive's fairy tale return, the dodgy clutch in their Clio, the nightshifts, the 'palletiser', the happy thoughts of Town that get us through a shift, a day, a week, the monotonies and the changes in our lives. Town change and Town stay the same. And we dance our static jig along with the club, from beers in pubs and running for buses, to kids clutching hands, looking up in wide-eyed wonder and outright disinterest in the same half.
On a personal note, it was Pete's comments on this venerable old site that moved me most. First contributing in 2003, I wasn't here from the very beginning, and those early submissions weren't the best. Pete was the one who polished them, made them worth posting, made me feel like I could contribute, that my contributions would be, if not anticipated, then at least welcomed. Wanting to be a writer and writing well are two very different things, but we've all got to start somewhere, and I started here on this site with the help of someone who was happy to use their editorial skills and time for nothing more than the satisfaction of sharing news about that old new thing: Grimsby Town. Thanks, Pete.
Old new. There's a basic oxymoron that might be exclusive to sport. The more it changes the more we remember it as the same (except cricket. I'm looking at you, cricket. Stop faffing). I'm in danger of needless repetition here – where's Pete when we need them? - and I'm loath to bore you, but this consistency of recognition, these shared memories, their importance is worth repeating. Like a great game, a great performance, a hat trick from Mendonca or Bogle, a performance from Disley or Cunnington or McEachran, the years slide together, the memories blur and mix so that the eighties and the nineties and the noughties come forward to the teens and the twenties, mixing the memories that we share and the memories we read about and watch. From grainy YouTube to dusty old programmes and dog-eared copies of Sing When We're Fishing, from bright-eyed kids who've just had their first away trip to that old chap who's full of stories at Christmas or down the pub on summer afternoons, we're here now and we were all there then, the old, the young, the ones in the middle, generations of us dreaming in black and white
Everything is new: all the time, it's the first time, and every time is the same time, and every time is an old time. So much has changed in three years, let alone 35. We're new, we're old, we're the same and we're completely different. And yet, 11 players will start tomorrow, and we'll win or we'll lose or we'll draw, and there will be passes and tackles and shots, and we'll sing and they'll sing, and we'll groan and they'll groan, and maybe a fox will run on the pitch and maybe a streaker will shake their bits and maybe a player will take a shit and maybe, just maybe, a seagull will head the ball. Old new. A perfect oxymoron.
Tomorrow, we take on Cheltenham. Several hundred of us will travel 300+ miles to watch us take on a team in form, especially at home. They score lots of goals at home: 27, the fourth highest in the division, but their goal difference is only four, so there should be plenty of chances for us to nick a goal or two. They've struggled all season to string results together, a little like a pre-Feb Town, so I'm choosing to be optimistic, given that they've had seven points in the last three games and so must be due a loss. I've heard a lot this week about fortress Whaddon Road (the EV Charger Point Stadium. The what? May sponsorship stay away from Blundell Park – unless it's worth millions, obvs) but they've lost four times there this season and we've won four in a row, so tomorrow will be Grimbo number five!
I'm not used to being this positive, so I'll rein it in and take a lesson from Artell. He's being coy about Obikwu's chances, but the fabulous forward is back in training and we're all crossing fingers and toes that our super striker is fit and ready to go. And if he's not, well, resplendent Rose, super Svanthorsson, the great Green and the mighty McEachran's genius, and traction engine shots, will see us through.