Cod Almighty | Diary
Diary - Friday 9 September 2011
9 September 2011
Your Guest Diarist sometimes experiments with a different style of introduction to the increasingly depressing and turgid world of the Diary. How about: "You are going to cum acid and shit fire. I hope you enjoy burning sensations, because this Diary is about to give you literary gonorrhea, and you're going to like it!" That is a relic, of course, from my early seventies period so seems perhaps weak and passé to you, gentle reader, in these so-called liberal, less lysergic times.
How are these times liberal though? A manager has a bit of a temper tantrum in public and the whole non-incident gets recorded and transcribed and repeated and catchphrased until half the world knows about it. It is said that hungry children in Africa this week have been shouting: "We ain't got no facking money!" at anyone who will listen.
How are the times liberal when you have to get permission to do a bit of a march down the Grimsby Road? When all you want to do is blow off about a few things? Things like we're shit and we always seem to be now - we are sick of being shit; the new players are worse than the old players; all the managers care about is how Town will look on their CVs; the catering in the ground is shit; we've only got injuries because the physio team are shit; the music in the Rutland has become too loud; the chaiman keeps spouting shit, and spouting his shit incoherently and inarticulately; and so on.
Yes, the Cod Almighty march of shame has had to be called off due to licensing irregularities and your Guest Diarist's criminal record. The idea was to meet in a pub (the one we always meet in anyway before home games), to frankly discuss things to do with Town and the price of fish: minor venting, basically (within current liberal guidelines most of the time), and then to march down the road we always use to Blundell Park with such conversations continuing. Apart from the usual stop-off at that nice chippy along the way.
The Cod Almighty march of shame would have rivalled the ones those 'disgusted' Everton fans have been planning; it would have been the Channel 4 alternative to the strange event that bloke off the messageboard is trying to set up.
His idea seems to resemble the weekly 'struggle meeting' the communist workers held when I was down in Shanghai 15 years ago - where employees gathered together to shout at each other for 30 minutes first thing every Monday morning. Getting it off your chest time. Still, never mind: a few of us will just meet at the pub before the game and have a laugh over a pint at how things just go from worse to worser. And then we'll flout the law by strolling down to the match together in a group of about eight. Not marching, officer, strolling. I swear we were strolling: there's no law against strolling is there? Is there indeed.
The game in question will be a home fixture against Hayes & Yeading. We lost the corresponding fixture last season and therein started the sickening realisation that Town were just made for these non-League times. The Shouty manager has blathered his pre-match interview for free this week. Not a lot to report - the same players are still injured, the manager still can't decide whether to 'do a Buckley' and not give a jot about how the opposition will set up, or just to follow the coaching Powerpoint which says, as rule one, nullify the opposition's perceived strengths even if it means negating your own.
But choices, choices - Elding or Duffy; Makofo or Eagle; Pearson or I'Anson? And how can Shouty hit the headlines next? Maybe he should start really shitting fire to get those bench-warmers excited? Then, perhaps, there would be a point to him and some real entertainment value. See yer.