Cod Almighty | Diary

Twice in a lifetime

7 June 2021

Somebody needs to know the times, so I'm sure you're glad that your Deviant Diary is here to ease you into another exciting week of excitement. Good morning, good morning to you, for nothin' could be grander than to be in the Bananarama!

With BOTB – the man who put the idio into syncratic - forgetting a whole bunch of stuff in his wistful wayward way of distracting from his genetic general disorganisation, we've ladies of the future and gentlemen of the past to discuss in the post–Pearson weekend world, for in this world of troubles Town news pulls you through.

Here we go: Young's have only two years to go on their sponsorship deal before they get a Sir Lord Macca-like second testimonial; the Broadley Legends game will be at Blundell Park on 15 August (though there is still no news on the big one - Glen Downey – who could at least sort out the catering); and Dean O'Henderson has attributed his rise to fish oil and sea air: "when I was at Grimsby, that was when it clicked, all my belief came and I started being able to jump higher, move quicker".

Right that's the housekeeping out of the way. Oh, do you hear that? It's the sound of knickers twisting in the more rococo, some say recherché, canyons of the Grimsby minds. Yes, we have a Lady Boss today.

After the famine brought about by the failures of the bourgeoisie and their Great Leap Nowhere, Chairman Wow's Cultural Revolution is nudging the nitwits and numpties towards the promised land, where they'll also make us believe in peace, love and understanding. And what's wrong with that? Petwood and Stockitt's boardroom blitz is all very soothing, rearranging the corporate armchairs into an actual structure rather than being the court of the crimson-faced Fish King. A proper club run properly by proper owners.

Let's be positive about ex-Top Con John. The man with a pension plan truly was the Martin Peters of gender equality: the ladies' sink has been in place for years. Debbie was no doubt delighted when shown around the ground, it surely sealed the deal.

After the return of the Shawnmower on Friday, now we just need that 33-year old non-scoring forward from Newport to come home and June will be bursting out all over and everything will be coming up roses. According to the RHS late May was the best time to prune your roses.

Oh hang on, Rose is still here.

Ah yes, our brave new world: the Bananarama. Like ridicule, it is nothing to be scared of. As your spy in the BT sky there is one simple fact to report: it's more of the same of what we left behind. Just a few more clubs of the same bog-standard hard-working, organised mixture of young pups and ageing pub rockers sticking it in the mixer. The weekend saw those flimsy, flaky Magpies head on to the English Riviera after nodding past plodding Spirites. All they had to beat was Gurning Gavin and Mr Spiggott, the unidexter keeper. I have nothing against his left leg, unfortunately neither had he for the second half.

As for Hartlepool v Bromley, you just need to know three names: Rhys Oates, Nicky Featherstone and James Alabi – by far the best players on the pitch. Really? Really. The Bananarama is a roll call of our old rubbish. It certainly won't be a stroll, but it isn't a land of demons and dragons. Oh hang on, it is. Challinor is Hartlepool's manager now. Now there's something to boo.

Here comes the twister…

Same as it ever was, same as it ever was.