Cod Almighty | Diary

Diary - Thursday 18 November 2010

18 November 2010

Bottom-of-the-barrel diary writes: There are doubtless those of you who think that all the Cod Almighty Diarists live together in one big house of fun, like The Beatles did in Help! Unfortunately this is not the case - until today, that is. By sheer chance four of our 'top' (hmm - ed.) writers find themselves closeted together in a spacious des-res Lincoln way, so this diary will be the first ever written by the GTFC equivalent of the Fab Four.

Town news! Woodseses says that Bradley Wood will end up in midfield, which sounds a bit like the witches' prophecy in Macbeth:

John: "Great news. We need a bit of energy and aggression in there, instead of the Stepford midfielders we've had for the last few years."
Paul: "No, no, no, that's just wrong!"
George: "Well, that's just like Danny Butterfeet all over again."
Ringo: "Probably right but he has to curb his tiger feet. That's neat."

As is the modern groovy way, our own Rocket Ron will be commmemmmorated (note to self - use spell checker on this one) not with a minute's silence but with a minute's applause. Should there be an apostrophe in "minute's?" I'm really not sure, even if I think really hard about it. The Fab Four unanimously say: great idea. Great servant to the club, thoroughly deserved and more fitting for a sporting hero to receive applause than silence.

So, with the immediate news out of the way, what would the four diarists have asked John the Con at Fanny's Forum?

John: "What about that tree, John?"
Paul: "Are there any plans to improve the ladies' toilets at Blundell Park? I do not want a new stadium, just new toilet facilities."
George: "What about the orange, John?"
Ringo: "At what point will you stop subsidising the club, Mr Fenty? Because at the moment the club is being run on a benefactor model rather than a commercial model. And yours and even Mr Parker's cash won't last forever will it? And no I don't give autographs."

Because York City won their cup replay last night, we're not playing them on Saturday 27 November, but on an indeterminate sodding Tuesday flipping night in the future, by which time the sapling that is Bradley Wood may well have matured into an oak... tree... sort of thing... in the Town midfield. Oh dear.

The Fab Four, all together in unison: "Bollocks!" Let's just go to York anyway, even if it is on a school night and we'll end up getting home past our bedtimes, when we should be sleeping like a log. Hang on, Guest Diary is serenading me with a lullaby:

I'm so tired, I'm feeling so upset
Although I'm so tired I'll have another cigarette
And curse Sir John of Fenty*
He was such a stupid get.

Good night good night everybody
Everybody everywhere
Good night

*with apologies to our beloved chairman but it scanned too well to miss it.