Cod Almighty | Match Stats

Tuesday 26 March 2013

Conference Premier

Gateshead 1 Gillies (79)

Grimsby Town 1 Thanoj (47)

Attendance: 351 (91 away fans)

My, it were a cold, cold wind buffeting the wigs and wags as the snow flew horizontally into the tea stall. A door opened and Marcus Marshall appeared, lost in a trance as we queued for our infusions of hot watery taste. Town lined up in a lava lamp 4-1-4-1, 4-3-3, 4-5-1 narrow gauge railway formation.

Goals and the nearer misses in a stream of unconciousness
Gateshead had a shot. Rubbish it was. They had another shot, rubbisher it was. James Brown – Gateshead's got you (and we feel good about that). The snow fell from so high that it came down with a ball on it.

Gateshead passed the ball into the empty stands where ball boys shivered. What's that floating down the Tyne, is that your stadium, is that your stadium? Oh the wigless wags did titter.

Devitt was felled by Cummins and coiled beautifully agin the underside of the crossbar. Ooh-ah. Southwell spindled and crossed, John-Lewis missed, Naylor hit the roof. Literally, not figuratively. Shouty hit the roof figuratively, not literally. The hot chocolate beckoned. So will we win again? Half time and huddle together for warmth.

Southwell crossed and Southwell was crumpled near the corner flag. A free kick cleared, a crackerjacker thwackered into the bottom left corner byThanoj from 20 yards.

All Town, Gateshead defeated and deflated. John-Lewis softly steered at the Gatekeeper. Devitt buffled infield and bedraggled wide. Devitt buffled infield and dinked, Naylor stoopy-twisted to looped the header a foot wide. Miller ducked and guided a back-header into the keeper's arms. Thomas bewildered inches wide from acres away. Many moments, all Town, all Town.

Devitt cut infield and coiled around the keeper against the inside of the right post. The ball bounced along the line and hit the left post. The Irish jinker was almost in tears.

Now, I wanna tell you a story, about a little man, if I can. There's a tiny ground by a tiny stream, where a little lad had a lovely dream. And the dream came true quite unexpectedly as Josh Gillies lofted a free kick over the wall and into the net by the sea-ea-ea-ea-ea. Was it a free kick? Sirs, DNA samples were taken from the boots of the teenagers present and no traces were found. It's a miscarriage, call the midwife.

It snowed again. We went back to the log fires and baked our marshmallows.

The nominal homesters announced Jamie Oo-ah Chandler as their hairstyle of the match, but he was more a Wurzel than a Cantona. Shaun Pearson was the most authoritative of a very authoritative back four and is determined to be the Beckenbauer of the Blue Square with his liberal libero lollopings. Given the threadbare chaos and anarchy of Mad March, Tom Naylor was the most consistent presence with his sub-Cockerillian charges and barges. He was the most solid of the junior choices in midfield, which is where Town strangled the Tyneside trundlers.

"In terms of our lads and the performance that they put in, I have to say they were outstanding. If we keep playing anything like that then the results will turn and they will come and it gives us a lot of positives."

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"Grimsby are a good team. They have quality throughout their team and they are up there near the top for a reason. The longer it went on the more they came into it. You would expect that; they have good players and are full of confidence."

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All things considered, it wasn't bad. Town's formation was initially bizarre, with Thanoj frequently the fulcrum in front of the back four, and Southwell and Devitt as wingers. At other times dishy Dayle accompanied John-Lewis on the magic carpet ride. Town were often exposed on the flanks, but the Gatemen were oblivious to the obvious, so no flak jacket required.

They all battled away rather well, eventually becoming cohesive and threatening. Town dominated the second half but just kept missing. There never looked any likelihood of conceding in open play, such was the command.

Don't worry about the defence. It was as it used to be.

Poor diminutive dasher Devitt had a fatal attraction for the woodwork, though a critical eye would observe he is fatally unable to use his left foot, so his threat is easily read. It was, though, his best game since his return. Wilson was perfectly adequate against this level of opponent, without doing anything particularly memorable. John-Lewis was perfectly adequate against this level of opponent, without doing anything particularly useful. Southwell was perfectly ad... you get the snow drift.

Not a team you'd want to play against stronger men or stronger teams, but good enough to deal with about a quarter of this division. A gamble that almost paid off.

Gateshead look distinctly dreary and without any threat at all. They clearly have no strength in depth, mentally or physically. If they send that team out too many times they'll go down.

There is nothing to say, for they had no personality, no unique selling point. They were just young men in white shirts filling time and space. They'll rue the day they laser-levelled their pitch.

Ah, back to the jolly japesters who support with gags not flags. More noise and poise than the Sunday strivers.

Mr A Backhouse (Cumbria)

This ramshackle rambler was not helped by his assistants, who were unwilling to let anyone run free in that weather. The linesman on the far side was utterly, utterly useless with a series of ludicrous offside decisions against Town. A Townite view obscured by monochromatic light? We were sat absolutely level with his most impossible flaggings.

For the most part a silent and unobtrusive presence, the referee lost all contact with humanity with his awarding of the free kick that led to the goal. Deduct three points for refereeing without due care and attention and not looking in his mirror before signalling: 5.112.

The replacement bus service got there in the end as the maintenance crew unfroze the points.