Cod Almighty | Match Stats

Saturday 22 January 2011

Conference Premier

Grimsby Town 0

Crawley Town 0

Attendance: 3382

The crowd spontaneously combusted in laughter when it was announced that SPB would get to shake the hands of some uncomfortable people in ill-fitting smartwear.

There was nothing spectacular to report, everything was positively negative in its adequacy; it was all about stopping today. Mickey O'Cummins was unobtrusively effective, the Atkempsons were a lovely couple at centre-back, the sort of next-door neighbours you'd trust to feed your cat when you have a weekend break in a posh hotel in Nidderdale, while the steward who hassled FFF blew his chance of a laurel wreath by not escorting him to the front seat of the luxury cruiseliner parked down Harrington Street. Ah you say, that's enough waffle, where is the sausage sandwich? Please arise and salute Steve Watt. He didn't look like a centre-duck out of water.

"On general play, Crawley had a few better chances than we did, but there wasn't a lot in the game."

"I think people sitting in the main stand would have had neck ache looking to the left all the time, such was our domination."

Well, if you have mysterious money washing through your bank account you can buy the better players in the league. They had no discernible weak links, as a team or individuals, but they were efficient rather than frightening. They had no joi de vivre, no collective style. The Creeps of Crawley hit it long, diagonally and early, imposing themselves and their method upon the smaller and more disjointed Town. They played better with the wind than Town and were just a little bit better overall and everywhere, but not better enough to batter. The Gatwick Gangsters were effective method actors and will get to the final audition this time.

What a hoot this has turned out to be: goading puns then we ran off home for our tea to leave Evans standing like a guilty schoolboy.

Mr J Adcock (Notts)
It isn't a case of where to start, but where to finish with this silly little man. The Creepers worked out early that if they stayed on the ground squealing they'd get a free kick, but they hadn't counted on his tangerine knees and marmalade eyes when it came to ooh, everything else. It would be simpler, and quicker, to list all the decisions he got right: not sending Mills off and... Nope, that's it. Hadn't he read the local by-laws? No digging for worms on Cleethorpes beach and all Fat Fenland Fraudsters must be ejected from Blundell Park to be poked with a stick by the local youth. In the spirit of Peter Bore being the permanent sponsor's man of the match the referee gets a positive score: 0.0001.

There was a collective will to resist the haughty Burlington Berties.