Cod Almighty | Diary
Diary - Wednesday 16 April 2003
16 April 2003
Those of you wishing to plough more of your hard-earned into the football club you love will note with interest today's announcement from GTFC that the 363,000 newly released shares will "be allotted in multiples of £100 with a minimum investment of £100" - probably to save on the admin costs involved in sending out loads of official reports and legal financial gubbins to people like the Diary's little brother, who holds a single £1 share. "The Club would be pleased to consider requests in writing stating the name and address of the proposed shareholder," declares the boardroom communiqué, like they're gonna weigh up every application on its merits and send your money back if your syntax isn't up to it. The Diary fancies a better return on investing in hydrogen fuel; but that said, I am a self-confessed financial illiterate. I don't even own a wallet, for God's sake.
If you watched the goalless draw with Wolves on 4 May 1999, then your abiding memory of the game will be the performance of a young debutant betwixt the Town sticks, who kept out absolutely everything the horrible big club could throw at him with an astonishing display of agility and athleticism, prompting his overjoyed mates from the youth team to run onto the pitch and mob him at the final whistle. Steve Croudson's career hasn't quite gone swimmingly since then, with first Mr Coyne and then a long-term shoulder injury keeping him firmly out of the first-team picture. Today's Grimsby Telegraph, though, reports that the Kitten's comeback is almost upon us and indeed that he may play for the reserves this sunny afternoon. "It's been the worst year of my life. It's been awful," says the 23-year-old stopper. "I'm ready and I'm as excited about playing now as I was when I made my debut three years ago." See, the poor lad has even lost track of time! Good luck, Steve.
Croudson could be bawling at defenders and randomly jumping up to tap the crossbar by the time you read this Diary, in fact, as Paul Wilkinson's put-upon squad of young 'uns kick off against their Notts Counterparts at Blundell Park at two o'clock. We don't know who else is in the team yet, but if my sunlight allergy continues at its current ferocity then I might alter this paragraph later on, when we do.
More about your ill-advised gambles on Town's first division status now, and an email reaches the Diary from Mr M Kolder. "I see in your recent Diary entries we're all bonding by sharing the blame for our beloved Town's impending relegation," he begins. "Well, I'd like to contribute by taking a portion for not having a bet on the survival of GTFC. Last season a troublesomely annoying colleague with no affiliation or knowledge of football bet me ten pounds that we'd be relegated. I took him up on that offer and bought an awful lot of chocolate with the proceeds of the aforementioned wager. This season when the same colleague, wanting to win back his losses, approached me with an offer for the same bet I was reluctant and refused the bet. We all know what happened next. I confess, it's my fault." Hence the pseudonym, eh. Keep them coming in, people - if you've won or lost money, chocolate, whisky or just plain old credibility on the outcome of a Town match (or season), email codalmightydiary@yahoo.co.uk and tell us.