Cod Almighty | Diary

Diary - Thursday 8 April 2004

8 April 2004

Young prodigy Joe Lightowler may have provided a tasty glimpse into the future in yesterday's reserves fixture against Lincoln. The 17-year-old striker, who GTFC and the Grimsby Telegraph never tire of reminding us declined some kind of approaches from Manchester United and Aston Villa to play for Town, was promoted from the youth team to the second string for Wednesday's game and responded with a tremendous long-range strike that gave his side a half-time advantage. Goalkeeper Brett Chittock, playing his third game on trial for the Mariners' reserves, was beaten 10 minutes from time to make the final score one-all, but Lightowler's goal is already thought by the critics to put his celebrated 1992 victory over Garry Kasparov and the series of piano concertos he composed a year earlier very much in the shade.

The slightly less youthful Aidan Davison, meanwhile, has pulled on his best slippers and Stannah stairlifted his way to an interview with Town's official website, in which he recalls February's win over Luton, when he sustained the young cow injury that keeps him on the sidelines to this very day. Aido believes that had the Luton management realised the extent of his difficulties and the Mariners defence been less resolute (er...) then the Hatters would have been scoring for fun: "It might have been telephone numbers," he reckons. "So, what, like 8,622,633 goals?" responds Miles Moss in an email to the Diary. "Even my phone number when I lived in Ludford was a quaintly rural 376, but come on, they didn't have time in just the second half to score three hundred and seventy six goals. The man's talking out of his arse."

And that's about it for another week with the Diary, unless you're interested enough in obscure former GTFC reserves to care that Halifax forward Jake Sagare is off back home to play for Portland Timbers over the summer. No, thought not. I never even knew how to pronounce his surname. Tomorrow your daily news summary needs will be lovingly tended to by the soft hands of Guest Diary; after that, I might see some of you at QPR on Saturday, and then it's Mrs Diary's birthday, so heaven only knows what will happen. T'ra for now.