Cod Almighty | Diary

Diary - Thursday 6 November 2003

6 November 2003

Heartfelt apologies to the thousands of Diary readers who were planning a voyage to Blundell Park this afternoon to watch Town reserves play Darlington: it turns out that the game was yesterday after all. You could probably go and help make the tea or something though. Good news is that the second team knocked in half a dozen goals without reply, the parties responsible being Phil Jevons (pen), Chris Bolder (ruler), Kirk Wheeler (Powerpuff Girls pencil case) and supersub David Soames, who got three. None of which will come as much consolation to Giovanni Carchedi, who was carried off with ligament damage after 11 minutes - making way for Soames - and could be gone for some time, though hopefully not in a Captain Scott kind of way.

On Tuesday 2 December the Diary is off to a Belle and Sebastian gig, and I'd be surprised to see any of the Mariners' reserve side there, not just because they'd probably sooner watch Busted but also since they will most likely be recovering from their exertions in the Maplins Hi-De-Hi Cup thing. The second string have been drawn away to Barnsley in the competition that afternoon and will kick off at two of the clock.

The Grimsby Telegraph has updated its Blue Peter totaliser keeping track of the tickets shifted for this weekend's glamour cup tie with QPR. Over 1,500 have now been snapped up, says the Telegraph's John Noakes, which is apparently quite good these days, now that we're supposed to consider 5,000 a big crowd.

You may say-ay-ay I'm a dreamer, and by the looks of it I am the only one. That's what dead Scouser John Lennon might have written if he had been the Diary, as just the one reader has emailed on the subject of the Mariners intruding into sleep-time imagery generated by the subconscious mind - and even he, the ubiquitous Mat Winn, says he doesn't really dream about GTFC. "But I often get deja vu," he adds, "as I did on Saturday at Rushden!" I'm smiling grimly here, and if you want to try and picture that, it's like when your dog starts cleaning itself in front of your in-laws while you've got a mouthful of hot chips.