Cod Almighty | Diary

What about the electric bongos?

9 March 2015

If you saw an old Town player walking out of a bookies, would your money be on Dave Gilbert?

Hello to you, my fellow Grimophiles, this bright spring morning of joy and fun. With Brizzle and the Beemen crumbling, why don't you have a cup of tea and tell me you're still dreaming. Dreaming is still free, just about the only thing that is in football and life. It fills up an idle hour.

Tondeurless, Butcherless, the usual channels of infotainment were denied us. The game was far, far away, in a land of make believe, and you'd better believe that Town are back in the pack. From deep in the radio background we heard the cry "Revenge these foul and most unnatural throw-ins!" Aye, and we did, through Ollie's tapping and canny Carl's quick-witted slipping to Wee Jack, just like at Barnet. It really should have been wigs at Barnet, shouldn't it?

Rigid… miserly… uneventful. Not your Deviant Diary, but the words of Wokingers following their weekend woe. How the locals were impressed by Shorty's squeeze and the wiggy wheeze. Well, did you get your wigs out for the lads? It's OK, we have no policy on hirsutism, but we frown upon headgear. So hats off to Gary – it may sound cruel but you laughed at us at Blundell Park. We can do some toupee taunting if we want.

It was an away game. Town played well and won. That's just the way it is.

The aftermath? An early Rolling Stones album. Chicks and ducks and geese better scurry, for now that Town have won in Surrey TMFKAS wants nine points to guarantee a play-off place and he'll take each game as it comes. He's also happy in his own way, but he won't get carried away, etc, etc, etc. Keep us shape!

You want links? Go play golf. You want to know about Tommy Widdrington's son? Why? I'm not going to point you that way.

Keep on dreaming. I'll meet you at the turnstile in Deva-Deva-land.