Cod Almighty | Diary

Diary - Tuesday 11 April 2006

11 April 2006

Hello there. Reserve Trialist Diary here. I hope to give a good account of myself during this rainy midweek match; after that, you'll never hear of me again.

Talking of the reserves, which I sort of was - well, I mentioned the word 'reserves' above - Deviant Diary And His Spirit Wife was almost nostradamic yesterday, predicting that the second string's duck would be broken - not by bird flu - but by a first win of the season. Sure enough, two goals from Jermaine Palmer and another from Andy Taylor meant that with five minutes to go it was Town Stiffs 3, Scarborough Seconds 0.

However, even more sure enough, the minor Mariners contrived to concede three goals before the final whistle went, disappointing Graham Rodger, and infuriating Wayne Rooney, who had taken Deviant at his word and placed £450,000 on Town to win. Bad luck Wayne, another week's wages down the pan.

Make a note in your (lower case 'd') diaries, for Grimsby Town are live on Sky this Saturday! Yes, you've already seen right through my lame gag, so I won't bother trying to string you along with talk of extra-terrestrial telly revenue: some of our squad are merely taking part in the 'Crossbar Challenge' on Sky's highbrow Saturday morning version of Question Time, Soccer AM. Filming today, the task is for the chosen Town players to hit the crossbar with a ball kicked from the halfway line. Insert your own gag about hopeful long balls and accuracy.

Right, it's only Tuesday, so I'm ignoring any early news of the team's fitness and availability for the Easter weekend matches. Besides, the less I think about Town's run-in and the possibility of the play-offs, the happier I am.

Someone who's very happy at the moment is Graham Hockless. Did you like that link? A career in local radio beckons, I feel. Anyway, tiny little Graham is chuffed to bits with his new life in Australia, where he's playing for Richmond SC of the Football Federation of Victoria, as opposed to Richmond, who are one of those capped-sleeve t-shirt violent nutter teams. Like Chester.

Right, that's your lot. G'day!