Cod Almighty | Diary

Stuff happens

3 August 2017

Football, in the form of a match we will remember for more than ten minutes after the final whistle, is almost upon us. Middle-Aged Diary pauses to note the Mariners Trust statement announcing the resignation of Terry Rudrum as its chair, makes a note in my diary to make sure I am at the special meeting for all fans on 16 September, and moves on. Having the club run well is a necessity, but it is not the reason for the club. The reason for the club is football.

The new season is almost here. It will be both less perfect than our dreams and less hideous than our nightmares. The best moments will be more exciting than anything we can imagine; the worst moments will provoke more anxiety.

In August 2015 we set off fondly imagining we might have a season-long victory procession, paid for by Operation Promotion. The next nine months brought bewilderment and frustration at some of Paul Hurst's tactics, the relationship between fans and playing staff strained, at times beyond breaking point. But then, at the end, we had Podge's penalty, three Omar goals and the delirium of Nathan Arnold's run to the corner flag. No procession; instead a mix far richer than any dream. Finally, we would not have changed a thing.

In August 2017, Russell Slade tells the Telegraph that, after Town missed out on promotion in his last stint, he is "determined to make sure we go one better". It would be worrying if he said anything else. There may be fans of a few clubs for whom an August dream of survival is quite enough, but as Ron Counte writes, Town fans don't come quite like that. 

After more than two months without any meaningful matches, dream goals predominate over the real thing. But now, thank God, it is almost time to get back on the rollercoaster, because football – any sport – is a joyride, not a journey. If you can't enjoy the trip, you won't enjoy the destination. In the end, your manager subbing off your best player and your highly rated striker missing a goal that Geoff Boycott's mother could have hit with a stick of rhubarb are part of the fun. If you can't enjoy it, you might as well stay away.