Cod Almighty | Match Report

by Tony Butcher

12 November 2014

Grimsby Town 1 Halifax Town 0

They came across from Yorkshire, they didn't have much idea of the kind of climate waiting. Ah, warm and breezy does it.

Town lined up in a 4-3-3 or is it 4-1-4-1 steam locomotion formation as follows: McKeown, Magnay, Pearson, Nsiala, Thomas, Pell, Parslow, Disley, Arnold, John-Lewis and Neilson. The substitutes were Clay, Brown, Mackreth, Pittman and Hannah.

It's the away team, playing the away way. It really doesn't matter if it's raining or it's fine. Maybe Mr Shorty's right and this is the time. Parslow anchored the midfield, the others fluidly shape-shifted towards lonesome Lennie, the Smouldering Shop.

Halifax turned up in blue. There's nothing else to say about them. Shall we get on with it?

First half: The filofax of life

Town kicked off towards the Osmond with a wiggle and little ankle niggle from the Smouldering Shop. A yellow card? A handbag?

It's like heavy-duty weird, man. Passing. Groovy tunes, not loony tunes. The Filofaxers: static powers and plastic flowers. They're jogging, we're logging our chances. A corner grazed and hazed off near the line. A corner blazed and Percy Parsnip plucked a pickled pepper. Neilson nicking and knocking here, there and everywhere. We don't believe in Peter Pan, Frankie Artus or Superman, but sometimes we believe in Lennie. All he wants to do is bicycle, bicycle, bicycle-kick inches over the bar.

Long Tall Harry carried his weight a long way. Glennon smocked the twock away. A little bit of Neilson on the right was alright, yeah alright. The Shop smouldered and bouldered lowly. Neilson schmeilson! The chips are wonderful tonight, what wonderful whip and dip. Glennon's on sails again, what a wonderful save. I mean that most sincerely, folks.

Oh Lennie, Lennie, Lennie of all the strikers in all the world, the ball had come to you five yards out in front of an empty net. Headed over and out, and we're heading for half time. A stalemate, but not stale, there's the tale, there's a sting in the tail.

We don't believe in Peter Pan, Frankie Artus or Superman, but sometimes we believe in Lennie

A corner wasted, a corner wasted. If you are the smallest, the tallest, if you want to score, elevation's what you need if you wanna be a corner taker, yeah. Arnold pumped high: Pearson pumped his chicken legs and pummelled high and mighty.

The Filofaxers awoke from their inert indolence. Pinball panic from a corner. Ping, the ball hit the Dizzer. Pong, Maynard mashed a welly three microbes wide of the right post.  

Time for the cream teas in the Main Stand. We're cool as a cucumber, but leave them out of the sandwiches.

Second half: This unsporting life

Off we go. Oop 'n' under, lad, fifth tackle coming up, scrum down and kick for touch. The Shaymen shook their sticks and danced around the fire. Route one across the Pennines, as the long throw flies.

Hey! That was a forward pass. Magnay did an impromptu impression of Norman Wisdom, and off he limped. Clay on, Parslow to right-back; backs against the wall.

Yes, we have no banana kicks, but they have a cute curly free kicker, bent around the wall and around the back of the goal. Repeat action and the ball smooched the side netting, causing a raspberry from the Pontoon as it rippled.

Town: isolated moments. Arnold dripped a hippy-dippy swirler, Glennon arched and tipped against the bar. Nsiala back-shouldered the corner and off the line it whelped.

Them? It's only rugby league.

Wahey! Long Tall Harry sizzled a curling fizzler inches wide from years afar. Arnold cheeked his way to the bye-line and Lennie leant back and twizzled over the top of the Pontoon.

The Filofaxers brought on their mortars, Town brought on Mackreth for Neilson. The crowd were delighted, of course. Let's add height and weight to counter the ballooning barrage. Town sat back, let them have the ball back and had the backing of the referee. He wouldn't let the Shaymen cast spells and sacrifice Jamie Mack.  

Four minutes were added. And four minutes later there were no minutes left, but three points in our wagon.

Well done everyone. You can all sleep soundly now.