Cod Almighty | Diary

I Predict a Quiet

1 July 2026

Ingerland! Ingerland!

Unusually for a Cod Almighty diarist, I'm actually quite enjoying the World Cup. They seem to have clamped down on all the things that used to irritate the hell out of me in international football - time wasting, diving, taking ages to take throw-ins, substitutes leaving the field via Turnham Green and all stops north, feigning injury, and of course talking behind your hand. Actually, that last thing didn't bother me in the slightest but there you go. And, double actually, the others are the things that irritate me about domestic football as well. Maybe the EFL will follow their lead and try to stop the cheating? That will be half the shithouse teams in our division stopped in their tracks, I can tell you. Or, I can tell thee, as the Kaiser Chiefs would have said, for rhyming purposes. 

So tonight Ingerland take on DR Congo, in possibly the first ever meeting between the two teams. You can do the research if you like. Think of this as an Interactive Diary if it helps. England have Southgated their way into the knock out competition and, tonight or next week, will Southgate their way out of it again. Well, at least we'll be in good comnpany with the Netherlands and The German Democratic Republic of Rammstein (as they used to be known before Roger Waters knocked the wall down) having already succumbed. Not that it matters, because Argentina will win, Messi will commit mass murder without being sent off, and all the directives about time wasting and the rest will be ignored when it comes to the boys from Buenos Aires. 

Since this is an interactive diary, can anyone tell me how Cockney wideboy and general multi-purpose tosser John Terry came to be sitting in the VIP box with the little bald fellow from Benny Hill, the Infantino terrible? Use both sides of the paper if necessary. 

Town-wise, of course, not much is happening except other teams are making good looking signings and we aren't. That's 'cos we is clever, see? 'Taps nose.' Or it might be for other reasons. I don't know. Town are too emotionally draining to be thinking about them for 52 weeks a year. As mentioned by Miss Guest Diary yesterday, our new strip is out, and like her, I couldn't give a rat's ass, although she phrased it more eloquently. I have never been at a football match and thought "I should be enjoying this easy 4-0 victory, but the stripes on the shorts are too wide and its putting me right off." Still, one of the great things about football, like birdwatching, is that it is something you can engage with on whatever level you like, whether it's tactics, stats, shirts, grounds or drama. No, I don't know why I mentioned birdwatching either. 

So, tonight, do what every commercial thinks people do when they're watching football, which is sort out your friends into the most diverse group possible, order a pizza, drink loads without getting lairy, I tell thee, and indicate a goal by all jumping off the sofa at slightly different times whilst keeping one eye on the director. Alternatively, watch for ten minutes, tell your one sofa mate that we're shit and we play too slowly, and go to bed disappointed. That's my plan. 

Friendlies start soon. UTM