Cod Almighty | Article

by Alistair Wilkinson

30 August 2007

Where's the fun in being good? I like to moan and
I'm not alone. But I'm happy; I'm even clappy, so
little too sloppy for me to get stroppy. We pass, we
move and every week we improve.

I can complain, find something to cause strain.
Pontoon constipation and message board irritation. Do
people talk in pubs? Where are the black and white
hubs? All waiting for an explosion, demanding action.
I hear a lot of should and if only we could; the
manager's a lump of wood. C'mon, cheer up, these
days he's just about mutable, and feel safe that he's
still not malleable.

Against County we didn't quail but there was a little
wail; I don't like the 4-5-1. Feels like a con. A matter
of trust? Not strong enough to be just? Still we
improve, Rankin better in that groove, but Lump a
must. Should've shot. Not too hot. Cracking leap for
the header though. If only Bore were that slow.

Draws against Burnley and Bury. Creditable? Yes,
very. Then those lads from Macc, big and strong in
attack and just rubbish at the back; 4-4-2 and we
shoulda filled our boots, coulda if we could shoots,
helpful those hoots. Rankin's still not singing and
North's ears still ringing from Li'l Al's screaming.

Heard some booing; if you can't enjoy that what's the
point going? If you can't enjoy that what're you
showing? Cleethorpes is always cold, some of us are
bold, and more the nerve won't hold, expecting us to
fold. But Barnes is improving, and Bosh or Boll need
a Hunt; you've been told.