Cod Almighty | Diary

Tonight is special whether you think it is or not

27 August 2025

"Where are the poets," sang Fish from Marillion on the title track of the 1984 Fugazi album, "to breach the dawn of the sentimental mercenary?" Well, its a very difficult question to answer, mainly because no-one has a clue what he was yammering on about.

So here's an easier question. Who is the diarist to write about Grimsby v Manchester United in the second round of the Caribou Cup? It's me, BOTB, and I'm about to have a rant. 

There are narratives emerging about tonight's match that I find frustrating. It's a circus, apparently; it's a distraction from the serious business of winning away at Accrington Stanley; it's a black hole sucking energy and focus away from our main purpose as a football club which is to grind out points against teams of a similar size and status in the league.

Jog on. This is Manchester United. Loathe them or hate them, they are one of the biggest and most glamorous football clubs in the world. The team of George Best, Bobby Charlton, Wayne Rooney, Ronaldo and Phil Neville. It's easy to take the piss out of them for their entitlement and self regard, their glory-hunting fan base based mainly in Godalming and the fact that last season they finished below Brentford in the league. 

But I'll bet that for all of us over the age of ten Man Utd have been an absolutely central part of our football landscape. Many of us will have known the Man Utd teamsheet during the Ferguson days as well as we knew the Town line up at the time. Not because we liked them or supported them, but because they were that central to our ideas of football at the time and how it should be played. They are up there with Barcelona and Inter Milan and Juventus and Real Madrid. They are, to put it simply, a very famous football team. They have a shiny surface that Man City and Arsenal will never have, even when these teams are outplaying them and winning all the lovely trophies. 

The shocking news is that GTFC aren't a shiny team. To the rest of the football world we are Oldham. We are Barnsley. We are, god forbid, Mansfield. To we few, we merry few, GTFC are central to our lives and are indeed the tree on which the fruit of our life hangs. There's barely a Town fan alive who remembers the last time we played Manchester United but I'll bet that everyone who goes tonight will hold onto this memory for the rest of their lives. The everyday business of League Two football is, to misquote T.S. Eliot, counting out your life in coffee spoons. This is something bigger. Cynicism be damned! 

If you're going, enjoy every second. If you're watching on TV, enjoy every second. And if those condescending puffed-up egotists play a team of 17-year olds thinking that will be enough to beat us, there may even be a touch of glory in the offing. Come on you legends, make us proud!