Cod Almighty | Diary

A matter of life and death

25 September 2019

Miss Guest Diary writes: Well, today's the big day. You know, the one where Town get to play at a top-flight ground and get cheated by some poor officiating. We haven't had that opportunity since... ooh, January. Not that I'm cynical.

Let's put that another way. I am cynical about all this Chelsea hoo-hah. When did Town fans start to get so hysterical about games like tonight's? Since I've been watching Town, they have faced first division opposition in cup games quite a number of times, and even won on a few memorable occasions. There's a film currently going around on social media of celebrities and former players wishing Town good luck for tonight. I admit it brought a little tear to my eye, but at the same time it felt somewhat patronising. A little, dare I say it, non-League.

We are Grimsby Town, for goodness' sake – formed in 1878, nearly 30 years before Chelsea came into existence. We hold the attendance record at Old Trafford; Bill Shankly used to be our manager; our chair in the 1950s became president of the Football League and then of FIFA! Sorry, got a little carried away there. But tonight's game is the third round of the League Cup, not the Holy Grail.

The League Cup – not even the FA Cup. A competition which many top-division clubs, Chelsea included, have recently treated with indifference bordering on contempt in the early rounds. Not that I think Frank Lampard will be treating today's game lightly. He can't afford to: he has been in charge of Chelsea for eight games, of which he has won only two. Much as I love Town and want them to win, I can't see it happening.

Yes, I know Colchester got past Spurs last night, but we've all done that, haven't we. More telling are Nottingham Forest's 5-0 defeat at Arsenal and Luton's 4-0 loss at home to Leicester. As long as Town keep the score below double figures... keep it below 11-0 and they will be doing better than Boris Johnson.

Regular readers will know I have been in two minds as to whether to go tonight. The fact that I am sitting in rainy Lincoln writing this will tell you that I won't be there. But I'd like it to be known that this has nothing to do with my cynicism about the refereeing, the over-hyping or the fear of a heavy defeat. I would love to be one of the defiant, chanting 5,000 but the reality is that getting old sucks. I have suffered with joint problems for years and simply can't face the physical effort involved in a late-night dash across London to get the last train from Kings Cross.

I am not one for seeking out illicit internet feeds of games, so I will be content to follow on Twitter. I may even listen to the radio, something I normally avoid. I don't know about you, but radio commentary, where every kick by the opposition sounds like a goal is about to be conceded, is way too stressful. But tonight I understand John Tondeur will be accompanied by Martin Gritton.

Grits, if I may be so familiar, was a favourite with me when he signed back in 2005. That was in the Slade era and I felt he never really had a chance to shine. I heard him interviewed on Humberside once and he was asked about his favourite book – an unusual question for a footballer, I thought. I cannot remember what his answer was but I do remember I heartily approved of his choice.

One other thing I might do this evening is rewatch a film from a few years ago: Offside. It is about a group of women in Iran who dress up as boys so they can watch a World Cup qualifier in a country where women are banned from attending football matches. Some of them are caught and arrested. I was reminded of this film by the recent news reports of a woman in Iran who died after setting herself on fire. She had been caught trying to enter a football stadium in Tehran dressed as a man and was facing a spell in prison. It made me very conscious that I have the freedom to decide whether or not I attend a game.

Tonight's game is just that, a game; it's not a life or death matter. And good luck with that last train north – my thoughts are with you. UTM.