Cod Almighty | Diary

How history rhymes

29 May 2020

History may not repeat itself, but as Mark Twain said, it rhymes.

One hundred years ago next month, the board of Grimsby Town called "a public meeting of supporters to lay before them the situation of the club, and to test the feeling of the public in relation to the club's new venture in the recently formed Third Division of the League". In May, Town had finished bottom of Division Two. They lost the re-election vote but were admitted to join former members of the Southern League in the new third flight. That would mean regular trips to south Wales and the south coast of England, with all the expenses that would involve. The board was anxious to find out how much support they could bank on.

When the meeting got under way, the speakers frankly admitted that its "real reason" was "to put the club on a better financial position". In particular, the directors wanted to make it easier for people to buy small numbers of shares. In return for the investment, they would have a public representative on the board.

The meeting was a qualified success. Many people – both men and women – bought shares on the spot. Reports of the next few months suggest a public committee was formed and that there were supporters' representatives on the board.

The board must also have known, when they called the meeting, that one question was bound to come up. There was no manager at Blundell Park. The squad that had finished bottom of the League in 1919-20 had been recruited by the board. Each week, the board voted on the team to be picked for the game on Saturday. The club chairman, James Plastow, frankly admitted that at the start of the season they had not done a very good job. In May, when the club had been making its case why it should remain a member of Division Two, it had promised to engage a team manager. It was now almost July, and no appointment had been made. The meeting made it clear that a manager was needed: a few days later, "as the result of public pressure", the appointment was made.

The "and they all lived happily ever after" didn't come for five years. The first manager, Haydn Price, left after four months, complaining of directors preventing him going on scouting trips and interfering in team selections. The second manager, George Fraser, lasted three years, but he too resigned, complaining of directors interfering.

By the summer of 1925, the club's debts had grown to nearly £5,000 (something over £300,000 in today's money, which doesn't sound so much – but football did not operate on the same scale then). The board went to the town mayor, Alderman Frank Barrett, for help. He gave it, but not without strings: he called a public meeting and later noted with satisfaction that the board accepted the suggestions made at the meeting how the club could be better run. In the summer of 1926, a year after the club's very existence had been in doubt, Town finally won promotion back to Division Two. Three seasons later they were looking forward to Division One. It might not have happened without Barrett, and the board being open to reform.

Now in the 2020s, Grimsby Town's future, along with those of scores of other clubs, is under threat. Once again, we are being invited to invest in the club, either through a crowdfunder or by buying shares. Some of us, Middle-Aged Diary included, said "never again" after Operation Promotion was spat out at us. But we never anticipated COVID-19.

John Fenty remains the major shareholder at Grimsby Town, and who knows how much influence he is wielding off-stage. But Phil Day is representing the board to its supporters more effectively than Fenty ever did. There was appropriate empathy in the way the refund of season tickets has been handled, and it is encouraging that he is offering his endorsement for a national bailout scheme which involves public representation on club boards.

Those of us lucky enough that our own circumstances allow it will no doubt this weekend be asking: how much poorer would our lives be without Grimsby Town?