Cod Almighty | Diary

Never look directly at The Sun

20 March 2015

Retro Diary writes: This week I have been encouraged, or should I say instructed, to stop going on about last Saturday, let it go, and give nothing but unbridled positivity to Town for the rest of the season. Two of this week's diarists have gamely tried to avoid the subject of suicidal substitutions completely, with impressive results, and at one point I nearly forgot about it myself. Almost, but not completely.

To get it off my chest once and for all: can I confirm I've got this right? I'm not allowed to let off a smoke bomb, I can't stand up in my seat, I can't tap a steward gently with an inflatable shark, I can't put one toe on the pitch, I can't jump on Craig Disley when he scores, and now you want me to sit five yards behind Hursty in the Main Stand maintaining a fixed, regulation grin and sucking up every stupid decision with happy equanimity. Er, no. Not only is this not how football works: it's not helpful, it's not normal, and it's not life. Well, OK, it may be life. In North Korea.

But it was Hursty's post-match interview that really wrecked my sleep patterns this week. It was his most startlingly disingenuous to date. And, among other intelligence-insulting pieces of denial, it invoked the most stretched-beyond-breaking-point use of the 'hindsight' argument I've ever heard. I'm quite grumpy with Doig too. He could have earned all his wages for the year in one go at Chester by uttering the seven magic words "for fuck's sake Paul, don't do that". So where was it? Or he could have made it eight words by adding "again".

Home to Eastleigh wasn't really the game we wanted next. For starters, assuming we're unlikely to finish top and we're not yet certs for the play-offs, there's actually something at stake. It's a bit of a six-pointer, which you can't say about many of our remaining fixtures. Secondly, it's at home.

After more than a century in this most repetitive and circular of businesses, we should be happily looking forward to welcoming to the Lincolnshire seaside a completely novel fixture with its expectant first-time guests. Learning to find new opponents on the geographical and cultural map is always one of the joys, and more educational aspects, of football.

After five Town wins on the trot, Blundell Park virgins Eastleigh would have been quaking in their boots and the crowd would have been bouncing. After last week, however, everything you know about football's biorhythms, and Town's home form, suggests we won't now win this match. Despite numerous calls to scarfy jolliness, we anticipate a fractious and nervy encounter, and a party atmosphere may give way to audible disquiet once the first pass goes astray. This won't aid adventurous decision-making from our house contrarian and his silent co-pilot.

But I'll dig out a scarf, ignore my instinct and worry about frustration and resentment only when it happens. This is football, after all; it could all be OK. And let's not think about how useful two points last week would have been, given that Barnet's next four games are against Welling, Alfreton, Nuneaton and Dartford. Stoppit – I said let's not.

Eastleigh are one of those teams projected way beyond their wildest dreams by a sudden injection of cash, which happens sometimes, but is never attractive. They recently achieved their highest ever home attendance when 4,126 watched the Spitfires (a nickname coined only in 2005) beat Macclesfield 4-0, exceeding their previous best of 2,621, also set this season. Playing both Bristol Rovers and Town away during March makes this month by far the most impressive in their history. Their fans are like kids who have broken into a sweet shop – they seem to be either terrified or carried away, with very little in between.  

Eastleigh, as a town, has the beautiful River Itchen, and no fewer than 20,000 tree preservation orders. It is sandwiched between the heathy wildernesses of the New Forest and the ancient folds of the South Downs, and has Premier League Southampton FC on its doorstep. It doesn't in any real sense need a football team at all.

For them, Harry Pell should start, having no doubt acted as their spy in the camp. Eastleigh's second top scorer is Jack Midson, whose name should be revered by football purists everywhere – Midson, of course, scored one of the most meaningful goals in the history of the English game. I watched it live on telly and I've still got the burns from my knee-slide across the living room carpet when that diving header hit the net. We hope to keep him quiet tomorrow, but we should be aware we're in the presence of a legend.

For us, Lenell is now technically fit and, according to the Telegraph, is "likely to return". Yes, you read that right. As a consequence, I would now advise watching this game through special glasses which cut out all light except that from the sun, or projected onto a programme through a perforation hole in a ticket. One's nervous system may be in need of heavy duty protection.

And finally… I saw this and thought of Hursty – although whether it will cheer him up or give him nightmares is kind of hard to say. By the way, I'm not referring to the item "Hearts fan loses pie".