Cod Almighty | Diary

Journey to the centre of the Pontoon

28 July 2026

There your Deviant Dairy was, fine dining at The Dolly (no, not that one) on a day off down south when my mate Dave, mid-munch of his chunky skewered lamb lunch, revealed a long suppressed secret – that Mrs Dave was once the family McJannet's babysitter. Well, I was shocked. And stunned. I just cannot envisage Wee Cam dribbling uncontrollably and it all ending in tears.

Searching for a celebrity anecdote to top that whopper, the only thing I could pull out of my top pocket was a photograph of a wardrobe in our holiday let. Dear reader, I have looked inside Brian Epstein's closet and can tell you, exclusively, it's a wardrobe. Amazing! Unbelievable! Who's got the bragging rights now, eh?

Summer days, drifting away…

In this relentless summer sun something has finally begun for, after what seems like forever, signing number five finally emerged from the lazy, hazy, crazy days of slumber. Finally Town have gotten around to telling is what we all knew anyway – "hard working and aggressive" Popeye Doyle is ours, all ours. Oh, and something we didn't know already – the clattering Celt is ours, all ours, for two whole years. Why the delay? Were they simply awaiting the right light to fall upon his silhouette from the maddening mid-day sun? How did we do it? Did Big Dave take him bowling in the arcades? Did they stroll down the Prom and drink lemonade?

I'll tell you more, tell you more…

The word on the mean streets of Meggies is we've been keen on young Cian for quite a while and more than one Ancient Mariner is having cheesy fever dreams of a 21st-century Joe Waters in the making. He certainly doesn't lack self-confidence, he even sits with attitude, though his hair does look like it's parted under sufferance, full of tension and fear. Fashion! Brush to the left. Fashion – right!

They are the goon squad and they're coming to town. Beep-beep-yeah, it's Tuesday and here come the Lincolns. It's the annual opening and indeed first pre-season fixture of the season at home, our very first chance to say "the pitch looks good" and then marvel at the all-new Avenue Q in the Pontoon. The inhabitants are insistent they are not just a bunch of muppets, though a couple of them are definitely the monochrome Waldorf and Statler. Why do they always come here? I guess we'll never know. It's like a kind of torture for them to watch the show.

What a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world we live in. Those spritely Impites, our county cousins forever known as Little Lincoln, well, they're two divisions above us now. They've just bought a player for £1m, they've offered £2.5m for another. In the words of Keith from H-h-h-h-h-ull, it's another world, Sue, it's another world. We're in that new world now so we can't take them lightly anymore (ANYMORE!). They are a Big Team. Facts have to be faced.

Talking of facts, I was driving down the road just the other day and I caught a fleeting glimpse out of the corner of my eye. A bloke looking exactly like Rick Wakeman was waddling along the path. I missed my turning. Well, you would, wouldn't you.

Enough denial, deflection and diversions, let's get things started on the most sensational, inspirational, celebrational Mariners show.