Cod Almighty | Match Stats

Saturday 15 August 2009

Division 4

Grimsby Town 0

Crewe Alexandra 4 Zola (34, 45), Jones (47 pen), Moore (90)

Attendance: 5007

You gotta be crazy! Are you raving and drooling? Clarke grows in stature with every moment he isn't on the pitch.

When you peer into the sack how can you tell which potato is mouldier? Singling out any individual would simply be down to personal prejudice. You could try Mike Newell, for picking the wrong team to play the wrong way without any seeming notion about how Crewe Alexandra play this game they call footingballs. Now when you pick a paw paw, or a prickly pear, and you prick the wrong paw, well next time, beware. We looked like amateurs.

"It is as bad a performance as I've ever seen, certainly since I've been here, and possibly as bad as I've ever witnessed in my managerial career."

"The priority was a clean sheet on Saturday. That was the main objective because I thought we would score. I told the players that before the game and that is why we were on them to make sure we didn't concede a goal whenever it was 3-0 or 4-0 or not."

They were nothing more than adequately OK, but they didn't have to be. Their 3-4-3 formation confused our poor little dears and no-one got to grips with Calvin Zola at all, despite the referee giving the Creweites free kicks for imagineered wrestling. They were not frighteningly flowing nor particularly solid; they didn't have to do anything other than stand in front of Town and move around occasionally. They passed to each other, which was an object lesson in the bare necessities of life that our bunglers failed to follow. It is impossible to make any judgment upon them as Town were so appalling in every way.

Mildly supportive and calm until the second goal went in. Not a bad effort at self-restraint given the pusillanimous perambulations offered up by the raggle-taggle jumble sale. A dozen walked out after 51 minutes when a fourth goal went in. A, but not the, as, hoist by their own petulant petard, these less than doughty dozen had to carry on walking. Ha! Such fair-weather supporters, they missed Town's shot. Where are we on the Seasonal Sob-o-meter? Up to our thighs in misery.

Mr Haywood (West Yorkshire)
He was no shining knight in blue satin. He was markedly reluctant to give handballs, of which there were many, some even contributing to conceded goals and Town penalty claims. But these are sideshows, an irrelevance, not even enough for gutter conspiracy theorists to twitter and tweet. His performance was occasionally mildly irritating, with a reluctance to blow his whistle. Perhaps he hasn't got big lungs. It's almost not worth giving him a mark because he wasn't called upon to officiate at a competitive football match. How about 5.999 just to pluck numbers randomly, like the Skegness ukulele busker troupe.

Is it progress if a cannibal uses a knife and fork?