Cod Almighty | Diary
Defy the law
12 April 2016
We live in times of misplaced anger. The Panama papers confirm that if the rich paid their fair share in tax then austerity politics – which have killed hundreds of British citizens and continue daily to grind the faces of the poor into the dirt – would be entirely unnecessary. And yet the ruling classes – largely through the manipulation of the mass media – continue to succeed in persuading us to rage against trivial things like immigration, parking tickets, and the characterisation in Thomas the Tank Engine.
Essex has always struck your original/regular Diary as the sort of place where people are permanently furious about absolutely nothing. In many ways this is fitting, as places like Essex were essentially the cradle of Thatcherism, and the hoodwinked working-class Tory voters of Roadrage-on-Sea are now in denial about the colossal fucking-up of a country in which they were instrumental. At least Grimsby supporters were justifiably pissed off when they visited Essex on 16 August 2011 and watched their team get pasted five-nil by Braintree Town.
Perhaps remarkably given the rate of staff turnover at Blundell Park in the past few years, the Mariners today retain three members of their starting line-up that night in James McKeown, Shaun Pearson and Craig Disley. Plenty else has shifted, mind. Braintree had only just come up from the Conference South but have now established themselves in the fifth tier's upper reaches. Grimsby have progressed from mid-table underachievers with delusions of grandeur to play-off perennials with delusions of grandeur.
Tonight's visit by the Iron won't shape the future of western geopolitics until the mid-2080s, but it may well provide a prognosis for this season's Conference Premier play-offs. Are Town's players determined to go one better at last this year, or burdened and intimidated by previous failures? The spirit in which they approach the game after slipping from third to fourth place could offer an insight into their mindset. Braintree (along with last Saturday's opponents Eastleigh) will nurture hopes of pipping Tranmere to fifth place. On the other hand, we could just ask Mystic Podge to read our tea leaves.
Sometimes I wonder a bit about this laid-back, great-team-spirit feel about the GTFC camp, with the fun nicknames and the dressing-room bantz. It sounds like a lovely thing to be part of, and I'm glad the players are enjoying themselves. Our team should go out there expecting to win. But too often they play like they expect it to just happen, without the part where they actually need to make it happen. Perhaps there needs to be a little more cold-eyed steeliness before Town can race ahead. I wonder if this training-ground love-in ambience exerts a drag factor. It all seems a bit Steve McClaren's England sometimes.
Then again, we've all got to do our bit, haven't we…
Perhaps the time has come for Town fans to find more constructive ways of expressing dissatisfaction than booing – which I've always thought of as a bit nursery school/pantomime anyway. If Marseille fans can use the Benny Hill music, how hard could it have been for the Blundell Park faithful to express our anger at a lethargic showing from Barry Fucking Conlon with a quick rendition of the theme from Steptoe & Son?