Cod Almighty | Diary

Diary - Monday 30 July 2012

30 July 2012

Oh Danny Boyle, the pipes, the pipes were flaming with our kind of Britishness, not their kind of mealy-mouthed, mean-minded Englishness. Sticking it to the man! In your face Toryboy!

It's Monday, it's your Olympan (sic) Deviant Diary who, thanks to Danny Boy's phantasmagorical socialist pageant, isn't sick of the five-ringed behemoth just yet. It helps to not switch the telly on. Or radio. Or computer. Or open the curtains. Ah, just normal for us Townites.

Keep those curtains closed! Saturday night was alright for griping in beautiful downtown Barton, the confused old landlady of Lincolnshire, as a 'strong' Town crawled past mein hosts in the midday sun. How could this be, after the triumphant march past local league heavyweights in 4-4-2 time? What could possibly be the explanation for the unbearable dullness of being rubbish on the banks of the dirty old river? Could it be the magic of 4-3-3? Or was there a rip in the space/time continuum?

Ah, he used to play for Grimsby, you know, and alarmingly he may again. Who among you won't have a warm thrill of confusion as Shouty 'n' Shorty contemplate the final piece of their jigsaw: Simon Ford and his space cadet glow may enter the building. People so busy, make him feel dizzy; does he make you feel safe and sound?

Do you remember the final piece of the 2003 jigsaw, the one with the rose-tinted promotion on the front and Wirral woe on the back? He used to play for Arsenal, you know. And now Jason Crowe is a trouser presser. I always thought he was.

With Simon Ford stepping through the door we're floating towards the season in a most p-p-p-p-peculiar way.