Cod Almighty | Diary

Diary - Friday 9 February 2007

9 February 2007

Whenever the conversation has started to drift aimlessly, or taken an ugly, bigoted, or triumphalist turn lately, your Guest Diarist has quietly piped up to enquire if anyone knows what has happened to Town stalwart Graham Rodger. No-one ever seemed to know, and I was left wondering what had happened to the man who was 'relieved of his duties' as first team manager, but not, apparently, of his remunerated contract with Grimsby Town. Now, at last, pretty predictably, Radio Humberside has broadcast the news that they think he is going to get his old job back. The one where he tries to find a community in the modern world. Try by the polystyrene coving section in Homebase, Grezza; or the laminated floor department of Floors-to-Go; or in one of those shops that sell plug-in smelly devices that make me want to puke so much that I have sworn never to cross the threshold of a house again where the inhabitants use them. Retail therapy. Give me ECT instead any day. And, if it's true, I'm glad that Mr Rodger has got a role to play for the club again. I'll light a joss stick or summat for him tonight; he deserves a thought from all of us. Now if they did joss stick-flavoured plug-in smellies that'd be different...

Am I a flipping solipsist? The thought occurred to me about the time Town's third goal went in at Boston last week. Leaning on the wall at the back of the stand, I was surrounded by a weird assortment of kids and blokes, none of whom appeared to be taking any great interest in their team's actual playing performance. Most of them seemed to be well up, if not out of their trees. They were stoned, drunken, racist and bigoted in the most unpleasant of ways. They took turns to bang a drum aimlessly. They sang, almost exclusively, turgid unfunny dirges about the alleged incestuous habits of the Boston population; and then an interminably long, factually incorrect and utterly pointless 'song' about German bombers being shot down by RAF Grimsby. Half time came and they quietened sufficiently to draw breath and ask: "Who fuckin' scored mate?" My reply - which I considered to be fairly polite, succinct and accurate - was viewed with grave suspicion, as though I had spoken in Shakespearean rhyming couplets. An epithet too far, my liege, methinks. But we all had a great day out, didn't we?

My own view at half time was that Town were riding their luck against a truly dreadful Boston side who had nonetheless managed to hit the underside of the bar and had two kicked off Town's line. On another day an eventual 6-0 away win could have been so, so different - a view almost echoed by our Lord Buckley in his weekly interview with Mariners World when he pointed out that the first half could have gone either way. The second half was a dominant, controlled and ruthless thrashing of a team too slow to even kick lumps out of us - try though they might. What this victory actually means beyond bragging rights, three points and an improved goal difference we will find out tomorrow.

Lord Buckley pondered in the interview. His ponderings are necessitated by the clause in the loan agreement that prevents Town playing Hunt against his employers. Not by the calf strain which Mr Paterson has asserted was not worsened by his international sojourn. Nor really by the Croft injury, which he describes as ankle-based in the interview although the Telewag heard that as foot. Whichever, he ain't training and he ain't playing Sat'day. No, it is whether to stick with a winning formation or slip back into good old 4-4-2. With Jones and Rankin as options you could just tell that this is the way AB is leaning. But the team won't be picked until Sat'day, so we will see. Lord Buckley likes the cut of Toner's jib, highlighting his workrate, his hold-up play and his partnership with Newey down the left. And he likes the new Bore much better than he did the old one, so might consider a pacy but lightweight front two, with Till, I suppose, filling the vacant right midfield slot.

Gary Cohen is having another week at Lilleshall. This comes after seeing another specialist who didn't tell Lord Buckley anything he didn't already know. Lord Buckley, it is obvious, also feels that shunting the lad out of sight and out of mind is all he can do at the moment. Mr Reddy was not mentioned. Lord Buckley knows that the Gasheads are doing better than they were but feels that his side should concentrate on their own performance. No surprise there then. Meanwhile the official site is forecasting a 6,000 gate tomorrow - which is not that high when you consider that there are 2,000 available as giveaways and the rest are on sale at a fiver. Come on, you Grimsby lot - get down to Blundell Park (if only to try and spot Campbell, who scored a cracker last week, I hear). See yer.