Cod Almighty | Diary

Smooth play, Shakespeare

21 June 2021

With Town news, like Polish potato pickers, in very short supply on the longest day our former local news behemoth has whipped out its summer staple "those you have loathed and lost". Who cares about the past, the future is now!

Will there be any more presents in the present? The Hurstmeister General is on holiday, but where? It's a mystery. Oh it's a mystery, I'm still searching for a clue. We know he contacts Deputy Doig daily. If your Deviant Diary had to reveal his Cluedo cards, the Returned One has gone on a staycation in a camper van with chloroform, duct tape and a balaclava somewhere new Newport. C'mon Podge man, be a flat leaver, that'll be copacetic by us, aw sooky sooky!

In general admin news season tickets are roaring away and the fans survey has revealed that we'd like cream with our apple pie – who could have guessed we want fancier food and the club to communicate better? Well, it's nice to be asked and even nicer that things will happen. Isn't life lovely, isn't life wonderful, post-Anno Fenty.

Torquay, Torquay, Torquay, Torquay talk, let's talk about things you’d like to do in the English Riviera™ now that the Thirty Years War that was the Bananarama season has finally ended. Have they got a white palm tree? The Torbay Dazzler ain't the same thing at all.

And we thought we'd been diddled by dodgy play-off reffing. Spare a thought for Gary Johnson's spare parts and spanners after play off cliché number one: heartbreak! Not much of a thought though, it's Gary Johnson after all. Two disgracefully disallowed goals did for Johnson's ailing Cheltenham tribute act yesterday, despite a 95th-minute goalie goal. Torquay, just lumps who dump who've got the hump about the chump in charge.

So no Challinor choi-oiking next year then. Pringles at the 'Pools won't join Wigs at Woking in our fancy dress away day lexicon of love. Tears will never be enough for Challinor.

World news! The Euro Finals, or Eurinals as the marketing men almost said when confronted with Ukraine v Austria. Portmanteau neologisms and acronymic contortions are not North Macedonia’s holding midfielders but a minefield of muddle and mirth. When Plymouth Polytechnic was converting to a University they ummed and ahhed for days over the new name. Ding! By jove they've got it: the "University of Plymouth Institute of Science and Technology".

I have always thought in the back of my mind cheese and onions. Do I have to spell it out?

Oh, hang on, I've told you that one before, haven't I. History repeats itself, first as a semi-amusing aside, then as a double-midfield pivot with utility squad members who can fill in at right back, if needed. It's hard keeping us diary shape in the doldrums of the dead zone betwixt and between here and there.

England, eh? It's just like watching... England. In this 24/7 summer of sport you've gotta catch up with sleep sometime. You know what the problem is? Not enough right backs.

Are you out to lunch or giving us the hairy eyeball? Right, I'll close the shades and blow up the cheese now.

Peace, love and granola baby.

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