Cod Almighty | Diary

Buckling under the strain

31 March 2020

It's day eight of the lock down and there doesn't seem much prospect of football breaking out anytime soon. Humberside Police, true to character, continue to over react as they do at football by tweeting pictures of a deserted top town saying there's too many people. The high court judge's testimony yesterday may well be getting an airing if Casual Diary gets my collar felt while still blowing out my arse having started the couch to 5K yesterday. People of a nervous disposition may wish to avoid the seafront from 6-6.30am every other day.

All free-to-air channels continue to miss a chance to boost ratings by repeating episodes of the Big Match or Match of the Day. Perhaps that is due to subscription channels buying them up. Or else it is just a lack of imagination.

The BBC are a particular disappointment. When I saw advertised MOTD last Saturday I looked forward to a bruising 1970's battle with maybe the episode with Sheffield United and Port Vale bang at it. I imagined the continuity announcer warning that the footage contained crowd songs with lyrics that at the time were deemed acceptable. The programme would then feature Town v Millwall from 1980 with a clearly audible rendition of Pontoon Fusiliers.

Instead we got no football, no footage and three blue tick wankers discussing which one of their blue tick wanker mates was a better captain than their other one. The fact that John Terry won - a man who slept with his team mate's wife - tells you all you need to know about post 1992-football. On Nunsthorpe, that's beyond the line.

Respecting the lock down curtailed our plans for this Saturday just gone. Having created the home experience by just staying in the pub on the first football-less Saturday, the three Mariners had decided to pick a random league town or city and make our way there by train, with the Peroni flowing. On arrival we would pitch up in a local, drink some more, then argue about the quickest way to and from the ground and the likelihood of making a train home specifically chosen to be borderline make-able. In doing so we would recreate the authentic away day experience, only lacking the usual bitter disappointment of the inevitable defeat.

Instead I got to stay at home with only the bitter disappointment of MOTD to provide that match-day feeling.

UTM