Cod Almighty | Diary

Diary - Monday 11 June 2012

11 June 2012

After a week away in a mobile-free, wi-fi dead zone it is I, your Deviant Diary, blinking into the harsh strobe lighting of the Great Summer of Sporting Underachievement and annoying adverts. I missed the wet weekend of mass dullness and forced neighbourhood jollity to celebrate an old woman not having died yet. Now we know what North Korea is really like.

The long, tedious tension of frenzied media frenzy has ended. Tonight's the night when the cliché machine inside our heads switches to underwhelmed. The waiting is over, the wailing can begin: the Grimsby Town cricket knockout cup finally starts at Augusta Street.

Or you could stay at home and bore yourself into a catatonic state by staring at some jaded jingo-joggers live and exclusive on ITV, home of Roberto Martinez's amazing Man at Greenwoods look. His shirts go best with a jam sandwich, glass of milk and a plate of jammy dodgers. The Milky Bars are on Bobo.

A catatonic state? Wasn't that Britain last weekend?

Everyone seems to know the score, we've seen it all before. At some point tonight Martin Keown will speak for the nation and ask: "Why can't he just pull the trigger and shoot himself?" It's not a question of when he says it, but who he says it about. My money is normally on Dave Gilbert, but in this instance, Geoffrey, I'll plump for the 6-1 shot Stewart Downing. And don't get Marty started on Poutonian leg-overs. Please don't.

Euros, schmeuros. You too could have German hair if you shop at Boots, or you could have a quick rinse in some Gold Blend and let your locks flow like a mountain stream. Buy this, buy that, it's all tat. This paragraph was brought to you by Mrs Miggins' Pieshop, official Euro 2012 partner to the Cod Almighty Diary's tenuous and oblique references to Robbie Savage, the number one slow-motion blond of the Euro coverage.

Let us leave such matters and return to this crumbling land. Ah, something amusing this way comes: Miss Marple's popped up at 'Ull to replace blabbermouth Barmby. He wrote a book once, you know; green, it was. As will the Tahgernation be in seven months' time.

It's summer, the weather is so lovely, just look out of the window. Do we really want to bother ourselves with more Fentyisms? It's Monday, so more mealy-mouthed mewling from the Mariners figurehead (© Grimsby Torygraph). Today, Matthew, John Fenty (Sir Topham Hatt, the thin-skinned controller) shall be contradicting himself within two sentences about the Cook imbroglio. Town have now budged on the original offer to the Barrowboys, yet he is adamant that the valuation was fair and accurate. It's all about a sell-on clause really, according to Barrow. They want one; Town won't offer one. An important detail curiously missing from Grimsby-based media reporting. No need to worry: the Dear Leader has these tribunals sussed. Nothing can go wrong now.

And the new away kit has been revealed with the ailing local rag cheerleading for the comfort of John with cobblers quotes culled from arbitrary nesbitry. It's "classy". Well, it has been drawn by a 10-year-old in class. A non-League kit for a non-League team.

As the old Ukrainian proverb says: "It was cool being with you guys! Come back soon! We love you guys!"