Cod Almighty | Match Stats

Saturday 19 August 2017

Division 4

Stevenage 3 Newton (37), Smith (45), Kennedy (65)

Grimsby Town 1 Collins (81)

Attendance: 2793

He kept his dignity, if not exactly seeking to lead the weak and weary out of the valley of career death: Danny Collins, a man who won't try to ride a dead horse.

I shall announce the results in reverse order:

• the improbably employed non-footballer, muscle-bound Mitch Rose;
• the crumbling invisible flankers, Dixon and Mills;
• the confused old man in a wheelchair, Clarke; and finally, in twos and especially
• Kelly and Hooper, the terrible twosome, the Burslem rejects who gave performances to make Russ seethe and choke on his chicken chow mein.

Let Summerfield off, he tried to the end and was the only player attempting to resuscitate this fetid and floundering troop of tosh.

"We'll be in [Sunday] morning working and if things are going wrong, you've just gotta work harder at them until things become better."

More on this

I seethe, you seethe, he seethes, she seethes, it seethes, we seethe, they seethe. We're seething, John. We're seething at what we're seeing this seethson.

You could get any non-League player off the street to do better than that. That bunch of strolling players were utterly devoid of collective spirit, organisation or competence. Some individuals simply provided more evidence for their inabilities and incompatibility with professional football. Mitch Rose would be the worst footballer in a school team. He has no intrinsic footballing ability, his value is in being a moveable brick wall. Kelly and Hooper were released from relegated Port Vale for reasons that are, literally, standing right in front of us. They don't like being touched and feel sorry for themselves when they are.

Jeez, I can't be bothered to go on assassinating the characterless. And we're only three games in to this long, dark season of the soulless. In this version of Sladeball, not seeing is believing.

Are there really two teams worse than this?

Hey, look, listen… it doesn't matter what the stadium looks like: it's what’s on the pitch that counts. Remember our golden days in the foothills of Everest when we'd tweak the nose of Premiership wannabees at our "tinpot" ground? For the "likes of Grimsby" is simply "the likes of Stevenage" in our new downbeat, downwardly immobile age. Let's have some perspective and perception.

Stevenage were a perfectly adequate fourth division team when attacking. They had a simple, basic structure, with players performing their simple designated roles. They had an idea of what they were supposed to do and did it. They were infinitely superior without being anything fearful. Newton and Godden were an attacking partnership and their midfield was quite content to move around unmolested between the concrete monoliths.

It wasn't until the second half that it became apparent that they have a laughable defence. And doesn't that tell you all you need to know. Their goalkeeper, Fryer was a flying fool, leaping around and missing the ball frequently, while the centre-backs were weebling wobblers when approached by footballers.

Stevenage aren't any worse than last year, so could sneak into the play-offs with a fair wind, foul weather and some better defenders. Good luck to them; they're making the most of what they have.

Mariners mutiny ahoy as the grumbles rumble ever Fentyward.

Mr S Oldham

This pastel peeper should have given Town a penalty, made assumptions when sending Jones off and overall was quite happy to wag his finger sorrowfully at Hertfordshire hacking whilst cracking down hard on northern nibbles.

Scores on the boards Anthea? 4.897 and lucky to get it, for he didn't do well. Just don't think for one micro-second that Town lost because of him. He merely provided aid to those who needed none. It's the difference between suckers and succour.

Warm, windy and woeful.

In a word: relegation