Cod Almighty | Diary
He died, lying there among the fish
28 April 2021
BOTB Diary writes: This isn't going to be a long diary; not because I don't have the time, but because so much that I want to say has already been said. Town's 3-2 defeat to David Rock last night has condemned us once again to the underworld, and like all Town fans I'm thoroughly pissed off - tinged with a little relief that we are no longer flappyflopping on the riverbank gasping for air but have been put out of our misery with the big stick of Life Isn't Fair.
In a way, our demise last night was a microcosm of the season as a whole: a Waterfall own goal, three minutes of soon-to-be dashed hope and excitement, a buttock-clenchingly clueless referee and a bloke heading in the winner with the nearest Town player ten yards away. We've seen all those things before, haven't we children? All we needed was Bilel Mohsni riding his scooter across the pitch at full time and the great cinematic climax to the season would have been complete.
Chris Doig was apparently sent off at full time for abusing the referee. Now I'm always conflicted on things like this; you know, rule of law, the avoidance of anarchy and chaos, respecting the officials and the importance of ritual on one side, and on the other delight that the useless little fanny got the mouthful he deserved. Actually I'm not conflicted at all. I just realised.
My friend Kelly spoke to me this morning and I told her I was trying to work out what to say in this morning's diary. Not being a Town fan and seeing football as a kind of slightly irritating background noise, she suggested. "We were shit, we got relegated, end of." There's been more to it than that of course. Fenty, Holloway, headbutts, darts, covid, Hurst, Shutes, Fenty, own goals, Declan Bourne, Fenty, Alex May, Fenty and Fenty. But ultimately Kelly was right. We were shit, we have been relegated and no amount of ranting about individuals can reverse that fact. We are what we are, which is now a non-League club, and we have to get on with it. New owners, new places to visit, the possibility of being excited by, and proud of, my own football club again. All these cards are now on the table. Let us play.
One thing that cheers elderly fans like myself is the goodwill coming in from other League club fans, including local rivals like Hull City. Lincoln fans just gloat of course, because they have no class, but generally people are sad to see us go. I understand this. Being a lower-division football fan is about rivalry with clubs with similar fan bases and the same passion for the game. My dream season would be us in the second flight playing and beating Lincoln, Hull, Scunthorpe, Chesterfield, Stockport, Notts County and Mansfield. Packed grounds, passionate fans, history and tradition. For this to come true, all these sides need to stay in the league and have some success. If football was all about playing pointless tinpots like Stevenage, Cheltenham and Forest Green, I seriously doubt whether or not I would ever have caught the Town bug. Other teams know they will get fans and atmosphere with us; this season they have also known they will get three points. No wonder they wanted to hold onto us. What will they get with Barrow? They get to play in a half-empty ground with a wall behind one goal and draw 0-0. Hooray hurrah.
So, no doubt the detailed post-mortems will be on their way, but this isn't one. This is an inarticulate sound straight from the heart. It sounds a bit like a sad air-raid siren. But as a ray of hope I leave you with these lines from Mark Eitzel.
"We all know the party's over,
But hey would you look at that? My glass is still half-full."