Cod Almighty | Diary

It's No Game

21 January 2022

Cuh, dear. Yet again I find myself wondering if yesterday's news is too stale to serve to diary readers. You know we've signed Tristan Abrahams from Carlisle, don't you? Course you do. You've probably also checked out his highlights reel, gone over his old Twitter posts and memorised his national insurance number. Anyway, he's in the building, and we hope he's gonna be a good 'un.

One thing you soon learn from being a lower division football fan is that previous form and reputation don't seem to count for very much. Older readers will remember when we snatched Paul Futcher from then-bottom-of-the-league Halifax Town's reserves, or Diddy Dave Gilbert from Northampton, and found ourselves in the presence of greatness. Other players have arrived with bigger reputations and expectations, only to be a load of old bob.

Scunny fans weren't fussed about MacAtee leaving, saying he was lazy, only for him to change into a Duracell bunny (ask your parents, kids) as soon as he set foot on the Blundell Park turf. Matty Heyward was much loved and the player of the season at Brentford – okay, you get the idea, but I'll just mention the full-backs we played against Altrincham, both of whom I thought were excellent despite my lack of initial enthusiasm.

Tomorrow we play Bromley. They are going through their golden years at the moment, though I'm not sure who their star man is. With town boss Paul Hurst having been under pressure lately we will be hoping to cause them some sorrow tomorrow. There may be some changes to the Town team but, whoever plays, we are still hoping we'll have eleven heroes. Their mascot isn't called Joe the lion. Or the laughing gnome. Look, David Bowie came from Bromley, okay? I don't get paid for this, you know. The cat's been sick on the Chesterfield and my wife wants the computer back in ten minutes. Throw me a bone here.

Bromley, of course, have a plastic pitch, which automatically makes me dislike them for reasons that are more instinctive than rational. In the eighties plastic pitches were quite the fashion (unintentional DB reference) but most teams abandoned them because it was like playing on a bouncy castle that skinned your kneecaps when you fell over. Doubtless technology has evolved, enabling a truly twenty first century, modern and advanced way of getting an unfair advantage over your opponents.

When people think of music and football there tends to be a few bits of tune that come to mind. The Match of the Day theme tune. The Life of Riley by the Lightning Seeds. Nessun Dorma. Up the Mariners by Pisces. All of these are logical, having been paired with highlights or major events, or indeed the GTFC loudspeakers, after a victory.

Yet the piece of music that means "football match, Saturday, GTFC, here we go" more than any other to me are the opening bars of Suedehead by Morrissey. Have they ever been used on the TV to represent football? Or have I gone mad? Perhaps I listened to it just before a big game and my Proust-like evocative response is purely personal. Or perhaps James Alexander Gordon used to whistle a few bars whilst he was waiting for the Scottish Division Three results to come in. Does anyone else have this weird, GTFC-related Pavlovian response to this or any other piece of music?

Anyway, the plastic pants of Bromley await us. Three points tomorrow and we'll be dancing in the streets of Grimsby tomorrow night. With Mick Jagger.