The Diary

Cod Almighty | Diary

Great Scott Brown

21 October 2015

Wicklow Diary writes: 21 October 2015. Back to the Future day. The date that Doc Brown and Marty McFly travel to from 1985. The real one too, not just one of the fake dates that have regularly been circulated claiming to be the real one by, err, saddos on the internet. So as Town fans in 1985, would we have been able to cope with the shock of travelling to 2015 to find the Mariners knocking about in non-League? The Law of Accelerating Returns predicts some scary stuff for humanity in the coming years but no-one, except perhaps my misery guts uncle and that "not good enough Town" geezer in the Main Stand, anticipated the Conference.

I was hoping to use today to unleash part one of my 17-part opus Back to the Futcher, starring Ben Futcher as a young Paul Futcher, Paul Futcher as an old Ben Futcher, Jack Black as Lloyd Griffith, and Daniel Day-Lewis as Pat Glover. Not forgetting Orphan Boy with the theme tune, 'The Power of Andy Love'. However, due to unforeseen script and casting problems this treat will have to wait.

Moving in reverse, what were we up to back in 1985? Well, the Tories were putting a line through the mining industry on their to-do list and moving on to "call pals to supply cheap foreign coal". Still, I'm sure we'll learn from that and never let them get back in… Seriously, how has it come to this? I blame Tony Blair. You know you are Lucifer himself when you make the waxy-faced Tory sleveens look like a good option. They're warming up. Trident, NHS, steel, China. Four more years of this and where will we be? It's an obvious play on words but the northern poorerhouse and not powerhouse is where we're headed. I wouldn't tell anyone how to vote but if you voted Tory and are not a tax-dodging press baron multi-millionaire, you need to give yourself a slap. A proper Tyler Durden Fight Club slap. I know Labour were a crock and Lib Dems a joke but seriously, come on.

Sorry, I know I'm s'posed to be writing about t' football and not politics, but as Devon Diary reminded us, it's naïve and simplistic not to believe that the two often go together. If we don't get our finger out and do something, whichever party is in charge has rein to run roughshod over us. Follow Devon's example; pause the Great British Bake-Off or whatever is on the TV for a moment and get a letter off to your local MP. It won't change the world overnight but it's a start. Anyway, when I remind you what Town were up to in late 1985 around the time Marty hit 88mph in the DeLorean, you'll probably wish I'd stuck to the current affairs.

Dave Booth's departure left us in managerial limbo. We waited as Phil Neal fluttered his eyelashes and flashed his European Cups before turning us down. This of course cleared the way for plan B, Mike Lyons. When my blood sugar levels dip during the night and I wake up at 3am, it's not to agonise about the crack in the garden wall or the rattle from the car exhaust. It's Mike Lyons. The man who grumbled at the time of his sacking that Town had waited six weeks before finally doing it over the phone. Mike, my lad, we were all either paralysed with shock or drinking to forget. If we could have picked up a phone before then, we would have.

Every fan likes to think the agony and angst of football are exclusive to them. Last night's stars Arsenal – with their ramshackle stadium, breathtaking football, big money signings and FA Cup wins – are obviously the benchmark club for torturing your support

But would we journey back and prevent his appointment if we could? From destruction comes creation and without Lyons we may never have had Sir Alan Buckley (the bloody politicians have let us down again by not making this title official). Although painful at the time, the odd misfortune in Town's past is acceptable in hindsight. We needed an occasional and short-term slump as a platform for the highs.

Note the emphasis I've used there. Dipping your toe in the fount of disappointment is one thing. Stepping laces-deep into a dog turd in your new suede shoes is a different matter altogether. The eight-year jaunt from Division Two to non-League and subsequent anchoring has taken the fun out of the ride.

Every fan likes to think the agony and angst of football are exclusive to them. It hardly warrants mention that last night's stars Arsenal – with their ramshackle stadium, breathtaking football, big money signings and FA Cup wins – are obviously the benchmark big club for torturing your support. That type of crappiness doesn't cut it with Town fans. How many sides could leave a trail of frustrated 'what ifs' in the wake of a 7-0 win or torment their following with an 11-game unbeaten run because it contains too many draws?

I think a small part of this tetchiness just comes with being a Grimbarian. A larger part can be attributed to the 17-season gap since our last upward move. That's quite a barren spell – our longest ever, in fact. I suppose we can be proud that we remain strong and can fill the away end 300 miles from home in, statistically at any rate, the worst ever period to be a Town fan. I'm not going to upset myself further by looking up where this promotionless spell ranks among those of other clubs, but it must be up there.

File this under 'worry when we get there' or 'nice problem to have', but have we been away so long we've been left behind? I read a suggestion that we should sign Conor Townsend permanently. Great idea. Has another lottery winner joined the board? Hull are a good example of the new order that has moved on without us. We passed like ships in the night in May 2004. Now it seems preposterous to suggest we could afford one of their back-up players who has never played made a league appearance in his five years on the north bank.

The trickledown bull that we are fed about the national economy applies in football too. A quick glance at the league tables shows most of the recent Conference graduates occupy the bottom half of Division Four. History suggests that if we are promoted then our average gate will not increase significantly – but we will certainly have larger wage expectations. By the way, those who point to a new stadium as the cash cow answer to bridging the gap the width of the Humber should be worried that the latest non-update is now a month overdue:

The two studies which the council undertook independently to assess the benefits of a new community stadium and other site options for a new community stadium, are now completed and the club understands that they will be considered by Cabinet early on in September.

Is there no news to report, or is the news taking a while to get tarted up?

It's not all doom and gloom today. Social media has been abuzz with praise for FC United in telling the BBC where to stick their "brand new BBC Mobile Match of The Day Live experience". Their opponents Sporting Khalsa's comment on the matter was so perfect it read like Cod Almighty had hacked their account:

 

Like match balls on plinths and Premier League anthems, there are many examples of people messing with the game who know nothing about it and care even less. So bravo to both teams for striking a small blow for the good guys. I am a little bit torn, however – without the 'innovation' of dressing-room cameras we'd never have experienced the truly awesome sight of Ollie Palmer popping beer bottles with his teeth. 

We have our own TV interference to deal with for our next home game. Does it say in the accounts how much cash we get from BT Sport each season? And did anyone ever get round to doing the sums on Friday night football? The 30 November game will not only see the home debut of the third coming of Harry Haddock but the club has also suggested that it will be Fright Night 2. While not being entirely sure what the original Fright Night was beyond fancy dress, I do know that the game itself was the famous 6-5 victory over Burnley. No one will complain if we get a repeat of that, apart from the odd clean sheet fetishist.

Before all that scariness comes the cup tie at Harrogate. As a midweek diary, it is not my place to write too much about the weekend's game. I will, however, state the hope that we play our strongest team and try and put a cup run together. Cup defeats should really hurt. League losses are obviously unpleasant, but at least you can put things right the following week. Not the cup. You have to wait a whole year to address that situation. Our strongest team could get a bit stronger with Scott Brown nearing full fitness and expected to line out for the reserves today. This news of course opens the door for a 'Great Scott!'/Doc Brown closing quip but I'm afraid you'll just have to wait for the opus.