Cod Almighty | Match Stats

Monday 31 August 2015

Conference Premier

Grimsby Town 0

Macclesfield Town 2 Dennis (45+1, 68)

Attendance: 4251

For trying hard and being conspicuous by his consumption of time and space, Jack Mackreth was forced to stay on the pitch and breathe, breathe in the ire a little longer.

And in my eyes I see nothing, for no-one even gets near the doorknob of the hall of adequacy.

"Well, it's a defeat at home which you particularly don't want. It's frustrating on one hand in respect that I thought we started the game well, we're on top but the goal at half-time changes things, but we still had 45 minutes for us to try and put that right."

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Let’s start with the positives. We can stop deluding ourselves that history doesn’t repeat itself first as tragedy, then as farce. And the farce is really with us now.

It was tipping down; is this the tipping point?

McKeown is presently a liability, with the defence dithering because they can’t trust him with foot or hand. He’s a compulsive flapper. Without Disley there is no control, no personality, no presence, no midfield. Without Arnold no persistent source of danger, no food for the front two.

Let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of this promotion thing. What a hollow, brittle crown we wear.

They were better than Lincoln, but that’s praise so faint it could be the Turin Shroud. My cat’s better than Lincoln, and he died in 2006.

Immensely, staggeringly and incredibly middling. Totally and typically average, mean, median and mode. Dennis ran around, but that was all. Their left back was atrocious, their midfield was observed fiddling about here and there, just about coping with Town’s ghost ship.

They will have ambitions for that coveted 14th place and, by golly, I’m backing them for that. And they won without much fuss. What’s that smell? Is it coffee?

Drowning in ennui.

Mr R Whitton (Essex)

Well, it comes to something when there’s not even a fig leaf to chew on. Harmlessly proficient in starting and stopping the game, even booking them for time-wasting, so I won’t waste time waffling on about nothing. A bog-standard 8.00 in a standard bog of a game.

Depleted and defeated. The day was dank, the team just sank.

In a word: drips