Cod Almighty | Diary

Diary - Friday 27 February 2004

27 February 2004

Afternoon. This is your guest guest diary speaking. I have a bad hangover, so if you'd like to keep your voices down, that'll be lovely.

The revolving door at Blundell Park must be creaking like a tortoise with arthritis after more comings and goings today - well, goings, anyway - with the news that both Iffy and Paul Groves have packed their satchels and buggered off to Tranmere and Scunthorpe respectively. The official site gets all phallic on us and misspells Glanford Park as "Glandford Park," which has me giggling at the back of a classroom like a schoolboy watching a video of two dogs rut during a sex 'education' lesson.

Err... anyway. My friend and yours Mr Brian Laws wants the ageing midfield lothario to help stop Scunny's nosedive down the league, but Paul, ever eloquent, seems a bit embarrassed about the whole thing, spluttering into his handkerchief: "I have come to Scunthorpe United to play football and help out manager Brian Laws and that is all I want to say at the current time." A glittering career on the after-dinner speaking circuit clearly awaits.

Meanwhile, Laws is relatively orgasmic about Groves' month-long loan, dribbling on about how he needs a calm head in midfield or something. They don't come much calmer than old Paul... Iffy, of course, has slipped down that thing called the pecking order after the arrival of Thorpe and Rankin, and he looks like he's knobbing off to Tranmere to "do a job" there. That might mean he's after robbing a Birkenhead bank, it might not. You decide.

As I write this, we're all still waiting to hear whether or not Town are gonna go out and get a keeper for tomorrow's game or not, or maybe they'll just rely on little Andy Pettinger. Why do clubs have reserve goalies if they're not gonna use them? What kind of dead-end job has Pettinger got, eh? Cuh, you wouldn't catch me wanting to be a footballer. Nah, I'd rather just sit here all day doing the absolutely vital job I do, keeping the wheels of industry turning. Reserve goalkeeping? Bunch of arse, more like.

Oh yeah, and Blundell Park looks and wintry and pretty on the front page of the OS, so the game'll probably be off tomorrow or something. I feel a bit sick. Bye then.