Cod Almighty | Article

by Dave Chambers

4 April 2005

Had a plumber round last summer to give my boiler an annual check up. It'll be lucky to see another service in a year's time, he said. Like he'd just diagnosed the boiler with some fatal disease, he tried to put a positive spin on the affair. Had a good innings: it'd been in for nearly thirteen years, these things usually only last ten, must have been looked after.

Once it's there you take it for granted. Just accept it is there, ticking over, doing a steady job. A bit like Macca. Both must have made their debuts about the same time as well. Fancy that.

The boiler has been coughing and spluttering the past week. A sign of the end promised by the expert seven months ago? Get the plumber back in, wary that he placed some time bomb in the machine back then just so he's proved right. Man's got to be assured of future income, right?

He jokes that the boiler must have some link with the Pope. Advises me to have a look around for a new one sharpish. A boiler, that is. He warns me that a new law means I have to buy a certain type of boiler.

Don't worry, he tells me. It's all for the good of the environment, apparently. It's going to set me back two grand. Even before I look at the labour costs.

Don't worry, I tell myself. What I save in CO2 emissions and on my gas bill is balanced out by the extra monthly payments on whatever borrowed payment method I take out to pay for the luxury of hot water and central heating.

Still, be Positive. Now that the season is officially over I could become an armchair supporter for the next month. Season's officially over for Town, you see. Safely not doing anything. Not going up. Not going down. Slade wants to try out the youngsters. Assure himself they'll not be good enough to start any league games next season. Trim them off the wage bill if need be. Just in time for them to go on a YTS or to college or on the dole.

In the process I'll save. Save myself money. Save myself the energy. Save myself the torment. Put those towards the boiler. Relax, enjoy a elongated football-free summer break.

I could put that money aside. For the boiler, even. Or take a voluntary trip to somewhere not as tormenting as Bury or Chester. By choice. Not as dictated by the fixture list.

And then, refreshed from my football fast, I'll decide to do something foolhardy. Like get a season ticket for next year. Should be able to stretch to that. I'll have saved some money, after all. Might even get a diesel-fuelled banger to balance out my new energy super-efficient boiler. After all, could be worse. Much worse.

Could be a Man U fan. Or a Leeds fan. You know. My club's lavish spending and lack of 'success' (ie. profit) rewarded by hiking up the cost to actually see those players. Don't have to worry about those with Town. My blind loyalty and ill-founded pre-season hopes are already starting to recharge, to build up.

And it seems Macca will outlast the boiler. Things could indeed be far worse.