Cod Almighty | Diary

Severe lateral attenuations of the Pubis Maximal

8 April 2026

For various reasons, mainly Easter and AI-related, there have been very few human diaries recently. So the Harrogate Horror and the Crawshank Redemption have not been fully dealt with by our team of ace diarists. More on those later.

Here at CA we like to take the mickey out of people who describe every game as a 'must-win', starting in August and continuing through the season calling at all stations including Christmas and Easter. However, play-off aspiration wise, the one against Crewe Crewe Barney McGrew on Saturday is looking like a...um...must-win. Sorry and all that, but we are running out of games and we're competing against lots of other teams, some of whom are bound to win a few. In terms of life in general, however, it isn't a must-win, unless your whole summer's happiness depends on us making one of the coveted play-off spots and losing on goal difference to Swindon. 

One thing that has cost us this season is, of course, the "weedy side-footed penalty" which made an unwelcome reappearance in the Harrogate Horror, this time from the boot of Vintage Retro Veteran striker Sir Andrew Cook. Usually Jake Kasabian does the honours, which rather makes me wonder if it is club policy and Artells would give a severe dressing down to any penalty taker who kicks it harder than you would to a three-year old on your front lawn. If we get one against the Crewes I'd like to see Greeny Greeny have a go. I can't imagine him weedily side-footing anything, least of all an opposing midfielder. 

Crawley was a classic case of "the result being the important thing" as a first half of dominance and class was replaced by a second half of dunderheaded downhillity. That's my word and I'm proud of it. The only way they were going to score was from a free kick in a wide area, so we kept fouling them in the wide areas when there was no threat, or a failed attempt to go backwards when we could have gone forwards, which we chanced about three times with terrifying results. Still, it's the result that's the important thing. 

When I was a a schoolkid we were taught various basics of football, including don't pass sideways across your own area and if there's a big space in front of you when you have the ball, run into it. When I watch the highlights from across the leagues on a weekend I notice about ten goals being given away by the former which brings out the begrizzled old cuss in me. Watching Town and seeing Dammit McJanet with 40 yards of open field in front of him stop and aim a huge booming pass to nobody on the right wing also raises the hackles. Yes, I'm a dinosaur, yes, the game has moved on and yes, everything has changed, but this is what old people are for. Moaning. It's one of the few pleasures we have left. That and afternoon discos. Just indulge us.

Lastly, did anyone hear the interview with Scunthorpe's Will Evans on Monday afternoon? The interviewer asked about his groin injury, obviously thinking he'd get the basic footballer non-answer. Unfortunately, Will had other ideas, talking at great length about his pubis. Knowing this was daytime radio and unsure if he was voilating any broadcasting codes, the RH man bravely tried to change the subject only for Will for bring it straight back to the pubis. In the end we finished with a good five minutes of pubis chat which was highly medically enlightening. They should make it a regular feature. Perhaps give it a jingle. 

So, a must-win on Saturday. I'll be there, moaning. And my friends will be there with me, begging me to stop moaning. I hope you'll be there too. We can do it! Theoretically! Come on Town!