Cod Almighty | Match Stats

Tuesday 28 January 2020

Division 4

Grimsby Town 3 Nugent (17 og), Clarke (63 pen), Vernam (72)

Stevenage 1 Lakin (90+2)

Attendance: 4175 (21 away fans)

From Clee to heaven the sponsors burned with love for the Caistor Lad.

The boy Benson bedded in beautifully, flighting passes, fighting pink trespassers. After the blighting of The Hess, our first sighting was enticing.

Hooray, hooray, it's a happy Holloway. What a world of fun for everyone as sober reflection left our gnome drooling over the wizard of the Wolds:

"We'll call him Sir Charles after that! Run with it, run with it, run with it, bang."

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Not that any sane human could care less about what this notoriously nasty niggler has to say about anything, but he's yet to be committed... to print.

The startling tactic of defending through homeopathic osmosis only avoided cretinous calamity through the kindness of the inept strangers in our midst.

The first half hour was extraordinary: Bignot Redux, with Townites under instructions to remove themselves from their own penalty area, to jockey the pink 'uns into shooting positions and then stand well back. Oh, and come to the party as Luke Summerfield, passing across the pitch directly to the opposition.

It reached an apogee of apoplexy when a lone, plaintiff cry emerged from the Pontoon as McKeown took a goal kick: "Just toe-poke it a long way!"

We'd rather you hoof than goof it.

And relax. Benson, until his little legs packed up, looks a midfield general in the making for someone in the bottom half of the Championship. Vernam had an excellent second half, after rockets were fired to propel him towards his daisy dribbling best.

Glennon has proto-Butterfieldian tendencies, with a propensity to snooze and was thricely caught ball watching five yards in front of his winger. Square edges that need rounding before Town play anyone adequate.

Yeah, Town were lucky. So what?

Sod off back to non-League where you belong.

Nasty, brutish and small-minded nigglers, recklessly leaping at Townite heads, impervious to the physical harm that would inevitably follow. Being competitively aggressive is not the same as GBH.

No fans, no style, no humanity and no-one who could shoot. Go away and don't come around here no more.

Bemused then amused as Town contrived to not lose marvellously.

Mr T Neild

Oh dear, Little Tommy gives Mr Barrowclough a run for his money for the lack of control of his charges. Well meaning, I'm sure, but taken advantage of by old lags. Perhaps he'll grow into his shirt: 5.629

Town had some kind of mushroom, but Stevenage were moving slow.

In a word: follies