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Diary - Friday 27 July 2007

27 July 2007

Flipping heck! Has it actually stopped raining, faithful reader(s)? Your Guest Diarist has been pegging out washing and examining his tomatoes already this fine morning. No, these are not euphemisms - I will not tolerate sniggering. Liberal democracy may not be the irresistible force that neo-conservatives think it is, but the weather has certainly ruled the roost lately.

But one fact is certain, as Will Self's missus Deborah Orr told me this week: "One of the oddest tributes to the imaginative ingenuity of the human mind is its capacity to take the facts and manufacture from them, regardless of what they are, a narrative that corresponds with whatever our own view of the world happens to be." She was not thinking about football fans when she wrote that, but it describes us perfectly in all our self-opinionated, semi-delusional partisan glory (well, me anyway).

For example, the Grimsby Town officially designated replacement for Sir John of McDermott is as much a right-back as I am. Yes, he knows the rules of association football and that this position is meant to be occupied by someone who can tackle, cover, hold the line, defend corners and instigate attacks up the right flank. I know these things as well. He possibly also knows a few trade secrets, once alluded to by that charlatan Lennie Lawrence when he claimed that the average fan has no idea what is actually going on in a game of football. A right-back should not be tentative, diffident or indeed abject in his defending. It is rare to successfully convert players from other positions to ever become successful at full-back (except perhaps in the heat of battle as a makeshift replacement when circumstances necessitate it). Mr Clarke looks like an adequate fill-in for Messrs Boshell, Hunt and Bolland in the centre of midfield. He does not look like a replacement for our ennobled and just-retired number two, or even Mr Bloomer for that matter. That's my story and I am sticking to it, citing performances against Brigg and Hull as my evidence, backed up by my mate who saw him at Farsley and said: "He stood in the wrong place." That's tactical nous in the raw, and just how I see him.

One Boxing Day, a few years ago (no, this Diary is not researched, so look it up yourself if you are bothered) I saw Wes Parker mark Kinkladze out of the game at Derby. His second-half performance was terrier-like - even standing no more than a yard away, utterly focused on his adversary, when the injured Georgian needed treatment. But despite sponsorship from those notorious talent-spotters Firth and Butcher, Wes's career thence went downhill and he ended up at Gainsborough. But despite being on the brink of signing a new contract with Trinity it would seem that everyone's least favourite non-League club Boston United have been up to their old player poaching tricks. A handwriting expert has been called for, I'm unreliably told, as new Boston manager Tommy Taylor waves about a purported application for a trial he claims Parker sent to him. I hope young Wes has kept up with the times and realises how far the Pilgrims have sunk, don't you?

It is Fun Day at Blundell Park on Sunday, the official site reminds me. A fun day is an open day with the added bonus of a clairvoyant or two, it would seem. Actually, I am not sneering: it rather sounds like a groovy way to spend a couple of hours. If my editor is the webmeister I think he is there should even be a link here to see the full list of things going on. The club have neatly categorised the acitivities - one is known as Mind, Body and Spirit. It is not known whether Mr Fenty has booked a private session with Wendy Turner (spiritual medium). Matt Tees will be there with Dave Boylen and it is rumoured that Alan Buckley and Stuart Watkiss will sing a duet after the light training session on the pitch. Another category ensures that burgers and beer are available, together with a Sainsbury's stand describing the benefits of healthy eating once you've had your fill. Laudably there is no mention of either Coca-Cola or McDonalds. Rightly so, for we Grimbarians should get our unnecessary calories from beer, burgers and proper chips. Go along, folks - it's too far for me to travel so I will have to make do with Heckington show, where I will inspect sheep and drink Batemans ale.

Tony Butcher, a man who wrote to me today an unsolicited email to say that his local Tesco doesn't sell calves' brains, went to watch the Town youngsters in Horncastle last night. Our lads won 5-2, principally, Mr Butcher says, because "they were younger, fitter and faster". Oh, and because Horncastle were "pretty rubbish" and "a bunch of farmers and flan-flingers". Tackles were not minced and neither were Tony's words. This is what he said about our trialist: "Nathan Jarman appeared before me. Like a waddling Lee Trundle wannabe with extra pies, he shook the earth with his haircut - skunk boy. He scored, but he was extremely unimpressive. He has a fine career ahead of him driving a van and scoring goals in the Lincolnshire league." Not that Tony could ever possibly be influenced by the pattern on someone's tie, or the way he ties his bootlaces. It's simply an opinion, manufactured from the facts. See yer.