Cod Almighty | Diary

Diary - Wednesday 25 May 2005

25 May 2005

Real Madrid have their famous galacticos transfer policy. Tottenham are apparently trying to sign any half-decent English player under the age of 21. And the Mariners, if today's news gives a valid indication, intend to rebuild their squad with players whose names feature in hip-hop lyrics. For that news is that Town are in talks with teenage Stoke striker - and, of course, subject matter of The Roots - Jermaine Palmer. The player, you will probably recall, came to Blundell Park for a trial back in March and played quite well against Manchester Bay Buccaneers reserves. "He then came back towards the end of the season and he had improved again. I'm sure there is more to come from him," says a disembodied voice on Town's OS who might equally be Russell Slade, Graham Rodger, or Jermaine's mum.

More transfer news now, and 29-year-old Sam Aiston, latterly of the Mariners' fourth division counterparts Shrewsbury, is what they like to call an old-fashioned winger, usually in conjunction with epithets such as 'out-and-out' and 'touchline-hugging'; and sure enough, he's inconsistent as well, having lost his place in the Shrews' first XI last season despite coming as close as any player can to beating John McDermott when his side lined up against GTFC. Equally sure enough, Aiston was once on the books at Sunderland, and a profile on Shrewsbury's official website adds the important information that he likes "proper guitar music", enjoyed English literature at school, and was once stuck in a lift with ten other lads in Grimsby. "He can play in a number of positions and it's a relief to have him sign with us after other clubs showed an interest," the Town boss told the Grimsby Telegraph, shortly before Aiston signed for another club.

Diary reader John Pakey, meanwhile, has been to the Colorado Rapids' website to read about Terry Cooke's immense work ethic, and the screen of his monitor seems to have cracked. "There are some horrific looking people in the professional game," writes John. "Philip Neville and his strange resemblance to Albert Steptoe, for example. However, I've never known so many in one team. Ritchie Kotschan has a massive scary chin that Greg Rusedski would be proud of. Hunter Freeman's got a set of upper front teeth that are just aching to break out and take over the world, and I do not know what is going on with Amir Lowery - just freaky. No wonder football is not popular on the American soil, not with scary chaps like that in the squad. Not many pretty boy Beckhams, is there?" All in all, then, it would seem Cooke has hooked up with the ugly club. They're not managed by a bloke called Nicky Law, by any chance?

Lastly today, a moment of respect for the Diary's most persistent emailers of recent times, Messrs Sibbo and Dave the Engineer, who wore their Cod Almighty T-shirts at the FA Cup final last Saturday. Splendid work, you fellows, and so much the better if you can confirm or deny the rumours that Jason Crowe was spotted in Cardiff before the match in talks with Arsene Wenger. He used to play for Arsenal, you know.