Cod Almighty | Diary

Diary - Monday 28 February 2005

28 February 2005

Yes, all right, then - happy birthday Paul Groves and Dan Humphrey.

Forty-eight hours afterwards, it still looks like Town beat Yeovil on Saturday, and in attempting to explain the admittedly rather surprising decision of referee Darren Drysdale to refuse Phil Jevons' (or if you read the Sun, Bill Jevons') last-minute penalty appeal, the West Country press are lamely pointing out the official's Lincolnshire origins. And after their manager had been so generous too. Somerset conspiracy theorists are first of all overlooking the fact that Lincolnshire is a very big place, Mr Shadrack, and hence that Drysdale could equally have grown up supporting the Mariners' so-called deadly rivals Scunthorpe United (a theory that would certainly be buttressed by the succession of fouls he had already called against Town for seemingly clean tackles). Secondly, given even the proportion of Grimbarians who actually support Grimsby Town Football Club, you could put a man from Clee Road in charge of a game at BP and confidently expect any bias to favour the visitors.

Mr Russell Slade has, significantly, agreed with his Yeovil counterpart that the clue is in the title, and it helps when supporters actually support. The smooth-headed GTFC boss has told the Grimsby Telegraph: "I don't think it was just coincidence that we got the win after the fans got right behind us today. It was terrific to have that and it helped us sustain the pressure." Yes, that means you, Purple Pontoon Bloke. No more "what a load of rubbish", please, eh?

So they have to try and do it all again tomorrow night at Rochdale. Given that Martin Gritton - whose partnership with Michael Reddy goes from strength to strength - is likely to be unavailable with one of those suspicious unspecific 'illnesses' to which footballers are more than usually prone, we can only hope that it continues to snow in Lancashire and they don't get as far as 45 minutes this time before deciding to try again later. Should the elements be braved, he that is Sir John McDermott is likely to begin no closer to the action than the substitutes' bench, as Sorted It is "keen not to rush the veteran defender back into action" after hamstring stuff.

A Monday wooden spoon to Steven Sawyer, who reckons luscious Linsey is strutting her unsavoury stuff at Hainton Square, as David Jagger, Miles Moss and BaWB have all identified the location of the lass's naturist perambulations as the junction of Victoria Street South and Ellis Way, where that 'parkway' thing starts. David offers a link to some altogether more wholesome local photography; BaWB wonders why they couldn't have used a nice young girl with large firm breasts instead; and Miles, bless his heart, reckons "poor Linsey could do with a big plate of fish and chips." He fails to add, however, where's she gonna hold the ketchup.