Cod Almighty | Diary

And gentlemen in Grimsby now abed shall think themselves accursed they were not at the Recreation Ground, Aldershot

7 April 2016

In football, in life, there are times when you just have to enjoy the moment.

There are several perfectly valid thoughts that no doubt crossed your mind over Tuesday night and Wednesday morning. "Getting the win under our belts was important... it's just three points, but it goes a long way to making sure of our play-off place... it's a bit worrying we're suddenly conceding at this stage of the season... That goal will be good for Omar's confidence."

All fine, but if at some point in your internal punditry you did not break into a lunatic grin at the sheer rollercoastering of Town's 4-3 win at Aldershot, you are not quite human. In your concern to see the bigger picture, you would be missing the very biggest picture of them all. This is sport, a playhouse for the emotions. Nothing more, but also nothing less.

Players who earn their livelihoods from the game nowadays tend to play down the exhilarations of a single moment. Middle-Aged Diary would like, now and again, for the mask to slip. Less of the "it's just three points at the end of the day" and a bit more of the "I've never hit a ball so sweetly, and I warn every friend and relative I have, now and in the future, that they will be hearing about it at regular intervals for the rest of my life".

As a Town fan, I don't want Omar Bogle just to dine out on his second-half performance against Aldershot. I hope he will go on to even greater feats. But as a human I hope he will relive the header that drew a fine save, the run and cross that set up Pádraig Amond's goal and then his own equaliser time and again. Tuesday's win was a small wonder, a thing to cherish for itself regardless of where it might lead.

On such a night, we should allow ourselves an amnesty. If some fans did leave at half time, there is nothing you can say that will make them feel worse, or better. One day, even that story will be one they can tell against themselves. The social media are a swarm of seething emotions, hurriedly expressed, words that don't bear repetition even a few minutes later. It is easy to forget, in the heat of the moment, that we are following not just footballers but people. Let's get off their backs. Let's get off our own backs as well.

John Waite, whose death was reported on Tuesday, is not a name that was previously known to me. A part-time player on Town's books, he had the difficult job of dislodging an all-time great, Johnny Scott, from the first XI. Nevertheless, he made his debut in a win against Hull and scored with a 30-yard cannonball against Barnsley. He made seven appearances for the side that won promotion from the third flight in 1961-62 and played once in the old second division. In other words, he did things we only dreamt of. My condolences to his family and friends.