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Cod Almighty | Diary

Andantina or no Andantina, I'm rolling away to the Crimond

2 March 2016

Wicklow Diary writes: Yesterday's loan signing of Patrick Hoban suggests Grimsby going green extends beyond the area's recent impressive showing in using renewable energy. An Irish striker with a great record in his home league but not quite burning it up in the fourth division? We hoped that Hurst could find another Podge, and it seems he's tried to take us literally. Particularly when you throw in the perma-stubble, a no-nonsense haircut and the fact that Pádraig is the Irish for Patrick.

Hoban's qualified success at Oxford adds to the debate over which level in the English pyramid the League of Ireland would correspond to. Granted, this debate is fuelled by about twelve pedants on either side of the argument – everyone else sees the obvious futility in asking a question that can never be definitively answered.

Nonetheless, the success of Shane Long, James McLean and Seamus Coleman supports the notion that the LOI is perhaps on a par with England's second flight. The fact that Anthony Elding was prolific and got the winner in the Irish cup final after he was rode out of Town on a rail suggests otherwise. One thing for sure is that the facilities and style of play are more in line with the Conference. Men's football, as Alex Jones would call it.

So what else do we know about the Hobanator, as he was called at Dundalk before his move to Oxford? Well, first up, it's Patrick, not Pat, although he is known as Pa back home in Galway. In useless trivia, he's been on the cover of FIFA 14 with Messi; and along with Podge and 65 per cent of the Irish population in the last census, he is a Manchester United supporter.

His style of play probably suggests that he will be in competition with Omar for a starting place alongside Podge or JP. It will be interesting to see the team selection for Friday against Forest Green. Omar hasn't started since the post-Halifax dressing room tweets. Personally I hope that Podge and Pa feature in a Town win just so we can see the Telewag get creative with some "Town powered by green goals"-type headlines. We also have scope for some Easter Rising shenanigans in a couple of weeks' time.

I'm not playing hurling, I thought, I'll get hit in the head by a stick. Three minutes of terrified stick-dodging later, I got hit in the head by a stick

A few diaries back I requested that our loan signings be battle-hardened. Hoban's experience in Ireland and his season at Oxford fit the bill. Another trait shared with Podge (and Shane Long) is that he comes from a hurling background. If you've never played hurling and, like me, you're a bit of a big girl's blouse, thank your stars. It is a tremendously skilful game but it is also a form of legalised assault. Hockey crossed with murder, as Jason Statham so eloquently put it.

Hurling was part of the curriculum at my school in Ireland. The premise is simple – you and 29 others chase an evil little fucker of a ball around a massive pitch with big sticks. The ball is similar to a cricket ball in size and concussion-level hardness, but also has large raised seams to sever fingers on cold afternoons.

Nowadays helmets and gum shields are mandatory, but not when I were a lad. On our first lesson I looked at the class hard-nuts swinging their new weapons with glee. I'm not playing that, I thought, I'll get a hit in the head by a stick. "Get in there, you big girl's blouse," came the cry from the teacher, the ferocious wide-eyed lunatic entrusted by the state with our well-being. Three minutes of terrified stick-dodging later I got hit in the head by a stick. The teacher yelled at me to get back in: "You only got skelped because you don't know how to play – get back in there and learn."

The same teacher later verbally abused the four of us who required hospital treatment after the session. "Sissies the lot of ya. And you in the Newcastle top, I don't want to see soccer shirts again on my hurling pitch."

Looking back, it taught me perspective. I recall looking at a swollen finger as my other hand held a rag to stem the blood coming from my head, and feeling quite pleased that I hadn't lost any teeth or got blood on my Town shirt. Also, I was still alive.

So Podge and Patrick have experienced this and emerged hardened not broken, like me and thousands of others. I'm not saying it's a necessary training for a professional footballer but you won't see either of them pulling out of any headers or 30/70 challenges. And if you're calling them out for being rubbish, make sure Curtis Woodhouse has got your back.

We didn't play Aldershot last night as Hursty got a note to excuse us from games because of potential travel sickness. Cheltenham lost for the first time ever and have added to their injury list. That means nothing to us. Nothing. No, don't look at the table. Don't do the sums! It's futile. Even if we win our games in hand and beat Cheltenham we'll be five points behind with nine games left. That means if they draw and lose one of their last nine and we win our last nine, we are up.

Luckily we have the FA Trophy as a Wembley fall-back when this happens. Hurst debate aside, let's take the FA trophy off his crime sheet. He has played the reserves in every round except the last, when it made sense to keep everyone sharp for Forest Green. We've benefited from home ties and basically couldn't have avoided getting this far without throwing a game. Is that what some fans are demanding that he should have done? How would he even go about doing that? Madness. What if we got caught doing it and the FA sent us packing to the Evo-Stik?

The players want to win it too. Annoyingly, Podge had to justify this to a 'fan' on Twitter.


In all of this it seems the ex-League teams threaten to ruin the FA Trophy in the same way the Premier League teams have messed up the FA Cup. The Trophy is a chance for part-time footballers and their fans to dream of Wembley. That's why it was great for North Ferriby to buck the trend of recent ex-League club winners last season.

Ironically, I think the semi-final could be the first match I have ever deemed it OK for Town to lose. I still want us to win, of course, but the romantic in me could handle defeat if it meant Bognor making it to Wembley. (If that's romance then no wonder Valentine's Day isn't usually up to much, adds Mrs Wicklow.)

Remember when we weren't spoilt with Wembley visits. The League Cup runs of 1979-80 and 1984-85, the heroes, the crowds, the beer-soaked dressing rooms. That's what this run has been like for Bognor and their fans. Like us back then, they've never been to Wembley. Without wishing to be patronising, they are a real non-League team with part-time players and staff. Not a don't-wannabe non-League outfit like us. A team that will probably crank up the Blundell Park bath to celebrate properly if they beat us. Finally, it will torture some of our fans if we have 100 per cent of the trophy disruption on offer without playing in the final and winning the bloody thing.