Cod Almighty | Diary

We're sailing blind, but it's certain nothing's certain

6 September 2016

Wicklow Diary writes: Miss Guess Diary thinks the new Omar song is a bit of a dirge. That's OK. The song's not the thing: it's the spirit. The important thing is we sing and we've a team we want to sing about. Apparently the song got a run-out at Kiddy last season but didn't catch on. Seems fair. 2Unlimited for the new signing that Omar was back then. Blur now that he's a two-goal play-off hero and hat-trick stud. Fire us to the fourth division title and a Middle-Aged Diary adaptation of Leonard Cohen awaits.

While the fine away following got behind the lads on Saturday, I was doing some bouncing and singing of my own. The good Broudie, Ian of The Lightning Seeds, had us hopping in a muddy festival field. A few years ago, Broudie recalled standing on the Anfield Kop as a boy and being struck by the sight of his dad singing. His dad never sang. His dad couldn't sing. Can I say this struck a chord with me without it being a pun?

I can't sing either – I have shower privileges, but anywhere else in the house and I get asked politely not to. Our eldest has inherited his dad's voice to such an extent that he was asked to mime in the school choir. I hear that kids are getting football coached out of them nowadays. Music, thanks to rubbish like The X Factor, is already there. Anyway, dad has overruled teacher and the instruction is that eldest can sing twice as loud if he feels like and tell the teacher to see me if there's a problem.

The point is that, although under threat, there are some cultures in the world where not singing is akin to not talking. One of the singer types at Cod Almighty could probably explain it better but singing, particularily as part of a like-minded group, feels good. There's something tribal going on there. The football is few of the few places where you can belt out a tune with abandon and without judgement.

Anyway, if you get a chance to see the Lightning Seeds, do. You'll come away a happier person. Broudie's son Riley doesn't have to go to the Kop to see his dad sing; he plays guitar in the band. Mind-meltingly he gets to rip out 'Life of Riley', the song written for him when he was a baby. That could make you feel old, of course, but it warms the Cockerills of my heart too.

Hopping madly in a field to hopping mad about a field. "If there's a queue in Grimsby, you join it" is how Harry Gration opened the BBC preview of our 1989 trip to Wimbledon. Harry was referring to the queue at the Telegraph offices to buy the original Harry Haddock. I remember it well and bitterly; I joined the queue too late.

The stakes weren't as high last night but the Park Ward public meeting to 'discuss' the Peaks Parkway stadium proposals was so popular that people were queuing out of the door. How many does it take to do that at St Augustine's community centre? "Scores", according to the Telegraph. The organiser, Councillor Andrew deFreitas, reckoned: "We had over one hundred, it was overflowing." So, roughly the tea and pie queue in the Imperial Corner at half time.

Twitterer @DaveinGrimsby attended the meeting and kindly Periscoped the affair. I tried to watch the playback. The meeting was full of the confusing shouts and whispers of misinformation of the town hall scene in Jaws. I was hoping for John Fenty to appear and scrape a piece of chalk across the board to bring some order, but no luck.

Of course the attendees have valid concerns and we should respect them. The councillors of the ward have a duty to represent these. However, it is not for them to stir up fears and portray the stadium project as solely negative. The respect should be mutual.

Some concerns about the stadium are based around crowd misbehaviour. It's something that has to be managed but it doesn't define football. You wouldn't bin your roses and close the allotments down just because you once got pricked by a thorn

The fact is that the stadium, wherever it goes, will have tangible benefits to the whole of Grimsby. The non-tangibles are just as important. GTFC is pretty unique in the town in being able to generate shared excitement and emotion across all ages and backgrounds.

I've said it before but it's worth repeating: some of the greatest moments in the lives of many in the town have played out on the football pitch in the black and white of Grimsby Town. Look at the scenes at Wembley in May and the streets lined for the open-top bus parade that followed. The councillors have a civic duty to recognise this uniqueness and the benefits of the club to the community.

People at the meeting didn't congregate to sing. We need to help them to understand and be part of days like the trip to Wembley or even Nottingham last weekend. In mind if not in body. Do they have anything that gives them the sense of belonging from being at the centre of two thousand very different people and yet united?

Some of the concerns about the stadium are based around crowd misbehaviour. We're not blind to the occasional problems caused by the minority. It's something that has to be managed. But it doesn't define football. Nothing is perfect. You wouldn't bin your roses and close the allotments down just because you once got pricked by a thorn.

Lately, stupid old facts have been squeezed out of national debate and replaced with spin and PR. If this is what it boils down to, we'll need to up our game considerably. I was reading about the building of the Findus stand recently. All it took to smooth things over with the locals was a few season tickets, cable TV and a Christmas party for the kiddies. Worth a try?

In today's other news, the Mariners Trust is looking for Whole Game Solution input. No excuses: we're prodding you and Matt at the Telegraph is poking. I'm not going to assume someone else will send that mail containing my eloquent rambling, so neither should you. For further background reading, I suggest looking to Portsmouth. Pompey have impressed me no end during the Whole Game Solution discussions and the EFL Trophy shenanigans. Their chief executive Mark Catlin continues to make sense in these two pieces.

Back to the east coast and the Telegraph also has a lovely interview with Shaun Pearson in the wake of his goal and fine performance at the weekend. Shaun had me doing my best Barry Davies impression with cries of "Look at his face!" as he wheeled away to celebrate his goal. The joy was well-deserved joy and some reward for being the odd man out over the past year.

By the way, today's credit to the Telegraph stops at the sports desk. Elsewhere, you can click on the link "Sex-crazed spiders are invading Grimsby homes – send us your pictures of whoppers". If you do click, please let us know if it's bad as it sounds.

Can't end on that note, can we? One week in and the amazing cycleman Dave Smith has made it to Scotland. Phew, he'll be ready for the first team by the time he's finished. Donate if you can. Also the ressies have a game. They get their Central League campaign underway at BP at 2pm today against Chesterfield. I won't be there but I'll see you at Luton for a pint and a song, cheers!