Cod Almighty | Diary

All in the game, yo

13 July 2026

Well it all went down to the wire. Oh hang on, it's all down to the wire.

And so they'll return to their valleys and their farms just because they don't have Dan Burn. Oh come on, for your Deviant Diarist beating Norway is like beating New Zealand at cricket. It should happen, it sometimes doesn't, but you don't feel a great sense of triumph at ending the dreams of such friendly foes. There's a Grimsby in Norway; we're practically brothers in arms.

Under Little Tommy Tuchel's Teutonic tutelage Ehng-lahnt have reached their class ceiling, but hey, why not ask for more? It's only Lionel the Messiah's backing band next. St Gianni of Infantinia will be licking his lips, or at least up to some more tricks, perhaps personally delivering some special pre-match lasagne for the lads.
But, of course, back home we'll be thinking about them when they are far away.

Yes, Town are on the way to the Land of the Slovs with some things new but without a few of the old heads. So who has left the building? Look, those are his footprints right there, it's the Mariners Madueke, the fitfully effective Darragh Burns who has disappeared down the drainpipe and turned up in Europe. Well, Derry City, who are currently in the Europa League first qualifying round.

Our network of secret sources reported he'd bought a house in Humberston – the GTFC version of ravens leaving the Tower. Maybe he'd heard about the drainage problems in low lying land (always have your rods ready when it rains!) and fled the floodplains. Shame really, such a lovely young man, delightful in fact. I had rather hoped young Mr Burns had bought the house next door to my mum and dad, he would have been a perfect neighbour, knocking on their door every morning to see how they were and offering to cut the hedge down. It really does grow quickly and my dad's in his 80s. And rodding those darn drains. Ah well, whatever will be will be and he leaves with the best wishes of the sane and rational among us with one indelible memory seared on every present and future Mariner – that pass to the Wolds Panther in that game. We may not have Casablanca, but he'll always have the 22nd minute.

Mmm, four of the starting line-up and three of the subs have already gone, you know. When does continuous improvement become unstable change? When the transfer window has closed we'll find out. Whilst one of the midfield departees went sideways, figuratively and literally, the other has disappeared over summer. The curious case of Evan Khouri has yet to be solved. Should we call the cops?

Should we call the financial cops? We told you about the League One accounts and we were going to do the same for League Two, but good old Kieran Maquire beat us to it. You may as well read his analysis, we'd only be showing the same numbers. Prepare your eyebrows for some furious dancing. Some of the metrics aren't complete as some clubs don't publish their turnover and wages details, but basically for 2024/25 Town were upper mid-table for their income and wages, lower mid-table for long term losses, in the play-offs for highest spending on signings and down near the bottom for current debt, which is the one area where that is a good thing.

Look on the bright side, if we carry on shedding staff at this rate we'll have no trouble hitting the EFL wage cap.

What's that Sooty? When are we going to sign a keeper? In the words of John Fogerty I hoirred it through the grapevine and some are gonna lose their mind. Town's search for a number one, number one may be leading back to the future with Harvey Cartwright's name floating down through the clouds, and memories come rushing up to meet me now. I remember him looking dolefully into the distance in yellow and, well, that's about it. Rumours, innuendo, suppositions and guesses where one and one is not necessarily two; but only two of those are chart-topping albums.

Oh yeah, I forgot, Town jogged around a field near Love Lane corner on Saturday. A pre-season kickabout against Lincolnshire non-leaguers; what is the significance? 'Twas a tale without sound or fury, signifying nothing. And was nothing-nothing.

We still believe, we still believe.