Cod Almighty | Diary
Shall we play a game?
11 September 2015
Retro Diary writes: Weather-wise, this was the crappest summer I can remember. Spring didn't really spring. In summertime, the livin' wasn't easy, and before we knew it we were into mists and mellow fruitfulness. Now, in mid-September, the fleece is back on, X-Factor has started, and we're freewheeling towards Christmas. We scarcely at any point got the suncream out, or turned off the heating.
The short summer was made to feel doubly unseasonal by the fact that this year there was no break in the football. Instead of Wembley's tickertape and fireworks marking the start of the holidays, this year it provided the kick up the arse for Town fans everywhere to try to get the club out of this ridiculous twilight zone once and for all. Every close-season utterance from the club was received with eager anticipation, and the budget boost-o-meter scorched and popped its top. Notice I didn't say 'tinpot' back there. No I didn't. You can check.
It was certainly an extraordinary summer, precipitated by extreme unity of purpose. Somehow, we managed to kid ourselves that a tidal wave of positivity and a modest transfer pot would guarantee top spot with absolute certainty. All we had to do was point the club in the right direction, cheer loudly, give them some pocket money and surf to victory.
Actually, that was never particularly realistic. Too many things in football are out of our control. Useless referees spring immediately to mind, as do injuries. Positivity doesn't prevent bobbles or slips, help players to kick with their wrong foot, or make the ball hit the inside of the post instead of the outside. It may help, of course, in terms of season ticket sales and noisy away support. It may even sway the odd wavering player to sign up. But it doesn't guide the ball around the pitch.
And the money? To buy promotion outright is certainly possible, but to guarantee success would probably require an amount well beyond even Town fans' monumental generosity. We may have been better off using the money to pay off some refs. Only joking.
No. Football is a case of slow grind. It goes right, it goes wrong, it goes right again, but underneath you just hope that a very gradual upward trajectory caused by unwavering perseverance is enough to push you over the line. For most teams, in most years, it isn't. And if it isn't, you have to go back to the start, and grind all over again.
But one can't escape the feeling that when Town do finally leave this division, it will be in the upwards direction. Our fan base and budget, not to mention our recent final league positions, suggest it. However, it isn't guaranteed, and Stockport and Chester provide sobering examples of what can go wrong. But even Stockport and Chester aren't as buoyed up by their support and general circumstances as we are.
So if we accept that upwards is the only way to go, then it must simply be a matter of time. Doesn't sound so bad now, does it. So settle down, zip up the overcoat and breathe the timeless scent of trampled turf, for that never changes. Keep yourself in good nick, and eventually the happy day will come.
Of course there is still time for us to pull it round this season – there are still plenty of points to play for. It is, as many have said, a marathon, not a sprint. But having said that, if I were the favourite in a marathon I wouldn't want to start in the middle. Just saying. We're already doing it the hard way, but it's been done before.
When Town first came down into this division, a common worry was that the teams down here would all be big and dirty, and kick lumps off us. While those teams certainly exist (hello Lincoln and Tamworth), the commonest reason for failure in the Conference seems to be the opposite – being pretty to watch but lightweight and ineffective.
Absolutely never lightweight are tomorrow's opponents, Aldershot. In contrast to last week's unprecedented encounter with an entirely novel foe, Aldershot provide a challenge of the decidedly 'known quantity' type. Despite having been around a long time, Aldershot's general footballing ethic isn't particularly highly evolved, and if they were ever any good, you feel there could be a new Crazy Gang in the making.
Previous diarists this week have reminded us that Aldershot now have Richard Brodie. In many ways they are exactly the right club for him. Shots midfielder Jake Gallagher, a youth who looks like a photofit of a burglar, said of his yellow card tackle in the Cheltenham match that "although it was a bit dangerous, sometimes you've got to do it just to liven the boys up". "The more times you put the ball into the box", said Brodie after the Braintree game, "the more chance you've got of scoring – it isn't pretty, but it's effective". I know – deep joy.
Needless to say, the Aldershot fans have taken to Brodie. "We always needed a big horrible guy in our team to help us grind out results," one says, also describing him as "passionate" and "intelligent". "A breath of fresh air," say at least two more starstruck followers.
As Town fans know, Brodie isn't entirely without talent as long as you can keep him happy. Presumably the Richard Brodie who gets frustrated and completely forgets about the scoreline, his team-mates and his own fans is yet to present himself to his new faithful. Depending on his mood tomorrow, he could be the best player for either team. If you ask me, there's a game plan right there, staring us in the face. UTM.