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Diary - Wednesday 11 February 2009

11 February 2009

A subdued Mardy Diary here, dragging myself through the drudgery of wage slavery, fighting the tedium of repetitive administration, clambering away from the mediocrity of the nine-to-five to bring you, dear reader, a daily snippet of Town treasure.

Inevitably, today's trinket box is stuffed full of Barnet booty after the will-they-won't-they suffering of Tuesday's near death experience at Underhill. If like me you followed the match on text-commentary or radio, you're probably feeling a bit knackered yourself. While my veg biryani slowly cooked (is that a Beatles song?) my outbursts were, in order: shit; fuckbollocks; comeon; YEEESSS!; NOOOOO!; and phew. Followed by the double stress of hoping Town would hang on for a point and hoping that my biryani didn't stick to the bottom of the pan. At the end of the day, Ron, you'd have to see it as a point gained. The boys done good blah blah. And I can't wait to see that goal.

Newell himself seemed pleased with the outcome, and so he should - an away point is an away point. And remember, just like Rome wasn't built in a day, so the GTFC squad won't be built in a single transfer window. Progress is being made and will continue to be made - I can't bloody wait until the summer. And if you're wondering who may or may not be here come the end of the season, keep an eye out for the return of the famous Cod Almighty Contract Tracker - coming to a screen near you, soon.

Barnet manager Ian Hendon took a different approach to Newell, deciding instead to lay in to his already fragile players. It's all about confidence this relegation game you know - and he's just dropped a bollock. Twice throwing away a lead and then getting a pasting from your boss - it's not really going to do much for your confidence in the coming weeks is it? And with Chester looking such a mess at the moment, it just looks to be onwards and upwards for Town. Accrington can you hear us calling your name? Oh come here, with your last minute conceding of goals - we know your pain, but we are now healed. Come, let us exchange positions. Good Accrington. There there.

So Hope is gone, but hope is still alive and well at Blundell Park. And who is it casting their eye over our cast offs? It could be Northumberland bound for our Richard, with (ahem) Blyth Spartans interested in his services. Sometimes I think perhaps I didn't realise how bad we had been - it's all relative isn't it? So who will be next to leave in the Re-Newell, answers on a postcard to the usual place.

So with that, and the news that our former first-teamers have had another match postponed it is time for me to leave and pass you on to - oh, whoever is doing the diary tomorrow. See ya.

Look Dad - no swearing. Almost.