Cod Almighty | Diary

Diary - Monday 14 November 2005

14 November 2005

"Pfghhggrtafdtttt - Replacing Regular Diary is number 13, Deviant Diary"

With Mr Diary defeated by technology and life for the whole week, welcome to Cod Almighty's substitutes bench. Now we'll see just how strong the squad is. Which one of us is the Terry Barwick figure?

What's that I hear on the Blundell Park tin-can-tannoy? "Friday night and the crowd is low...". Without the inducement of free kids, or even kids for free, Friday night was not football night for the fervent masses of North East Lincolnshire, with the lowest home league gate so far this season seeing Town's dancing queens romp to a carefree victory with knobs on. A Mr Regular Diary case proven beyond reasonable doubt: we like our football on a Saturday. Ah well, at least Russell Slade is feeling vindicated in playing the victimised, and Parky was great! No, not that Parky; this Parky. Life would be less like a Graham Rix farce if footballers had any imagination. Macclesfield were really impressed by Martin Gritton. Life would be less like a Brian Rix farce if anyone knew anything about anybody. Vicar, I can explain!

Pencils with mottos, it's the way forward, and who wouldn't buy a HB2 with that on? With official news thinner than Rob Jones's right leg we are left to contemplate Christmas with a selection of gifts from the club shop. The ever-popular calendar with its runic messages about players' contracts, or how about that Grimsby Town FC black hoodie - one for the ASBO kids there and sure to be a big seller. But you can't have a fridge magnet - I bought the last one on Friday and, as they are handcrafted by village elders in Tahiti, don't expect any more this side of Jermaine Palmer's next loan move to an obscure non-League club, which may even have a dressing room with a roof.

Apparently you can take six children for free to Wycombe, but only if you have the social conscience of the child catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. There are depths below which no man should go. I hate that car park.

Hot on the heels of Town's return to winning ways (© Grimsby Telegraph), the Diary inbox is pummelled by its less constipated readers. Andy Lumbard waves a disdainful left hand towards the allegations of former feather-cuteness while helpfully informing the world that Mark E Smith, friend of the fish, is due to read out the scores on Final Score on 19 November. Have you got those scales of justice handy? To go to Wycombe or stay at home and watch Ray Stubbs implode - there's no need for the jury to retire.

Wee Scott Brummett hasn't wasted his Monday morning either. Whatever was he dreaming about last night? Inflatable fish obviously figured highly in the oneirocrypt of Cod Almighty's brain. As a sophisticated Townite you should have already known that Harry Haddock played for Scotland, but did you know this? Mucho-macho-moustachiosity. Should he be the subject of the next Thundercliffe interview?

Late news: Bas Savage, Man of Bronze, still tickles Russ's fancy. Town are in "dialog" with his agent. Mr Regular Diary is spinning in his semantic, pedantic grave as you read this.

"You're a teaser, you turn 'em on, leave them burning and then you're gone". Well that's what it says on my pencil. Goodbye Reggie.