Cod Almighty | Diary

Diary - Monday 21 March 2011

21 March 2011

Mardy Diary writes: We've all got our views on what Neil Woods got right or wrong in his time at the club, but one thing I'm sure he got absolutely spot on (albeit a bit late) was stopping players from Telling The Telegraph. Admittedly he didn't do this until about two weeks before he got the sack, but still, it was done.

Unfortunately, here we are a few weeks after his sacking and already we're back at it. It's a Friday, or a Tuesday and there's a match coming up: and this week it's player X droning on at the Telegraph (who must shoulder some of the blame here) about how the players know it's not good enough and they've all been working hard in training, so definitely things will be better soon. This time. More than any other time. This time. They're gonna find a way, find a way to stop being so fucking consistently fucking disappointing.

I know, I know: the Telegraph is looking to fill space, it phones a player up for a quick phone interview, the player spits out the usual cliches and the low-paid, understaffed hacks at the Northcliffe Media-owned paper have got better things to do so it's an easy win for them. But Jesus - come on! Every sodding week for the last ten bloody years or so. True, I could choose not to read it - and to be honest I often take that course. But when I've got Newsnow open looking to see what's happening in the world relating to GTFC, I can't avoid the headlines. And the headlines say it all: we've been a bit shit lately, but we'll get better soon. Honest.

I bet the Telegraph even has a template for this now: insert player name, insert quotes, click 'make story'. This isn't a snidey dig at the Telegraph, I should point out - I can see how it may be misconstrued that way. I have much empathy for the staff there, if not the owners. It's more this mix of media and footballers, and managers... and bloody chairmen all over the place at every level of the game. Just shut up. All of you just shut up for a few fucking minutes. Effective communication is not just opening your fucking mouth and letting some noise come out of it.

If you've got something to say, say it. If you haven't, don't just talk for the sake of it. Especially when it's so bloody hollow, when it's words we've read a thousand times making the same empty promises over and over. I don't want to hear it. It's like being in a relationship with someone who, despite having slept with all of your friends and family, keeps telling you that this time they're definitely going to be faithful to you. Except it's a relationship we can't get out of. Well, we can, yet we return again and again for more of the same. It's either sado-masochism or some sort of spousal abuse. Whatever, there needs to be a government-funded counselling group set up for it.

Ahem. I didn't realise I was so pissed off this morning. I kept that one bottled up well. Perhaps I should take a leaf out of Dave 'Look, I Really, Really Do Not Want This Job' Moore's book. When pushed on how a change in manager this week may affect him, he's basically shrugged. "It won't bother me if I have to prepare the team for Gateshead and it won't bother me if somebody else is preparing the team either," says Dave. Although do I detect a hint of 'just shut the fuck up about it' in there?

Perhaps not - Moore has come across well in his interviews, which is probably down to the fact that there's absolutely no pressure on him at all. He talks like a man who knows his job is secure, so he has more freedom to say what he really thinks with no repercussions. This is of course a good thing, but something that will change pretty soon when a new manager comes in, is expected to get us promoted straight away, comes under a bit of pressure and is subsequently sacked. In April 2012.

No, it's no good. I'm still in a bad mood.