Cod Almighty | Diary

Hemmed in like a boar between archers

9 September 2022

Liz Truss, eh? If she was put in charge of your local primary school you'd be worried for its future.

Anyhoo, after losing all those games to Covid it seems possible we might lose another match due to an outbreak of mass hysteria. Hopefully it will have cleared up by the time Gillingham arrive on Tuesday night, though bitter experience has taught me it can hang around for weeks. So, what to talk about?

Any writer knows it's much easier, and more fun, to be negative than positive. There are a lot more insults than compliments. So, delighted as I am by the happy course currently being sailed by the good ship GTFC, it leaves me with little to say. Except this.

The fascinating thing about our season so far, for me, is that we have scored ten goals in all unboycotted competitions, but not a single one has been scored by a forward. Our decent league position is largely due to our superb defence and our attacking midfielders. Which brings me to Ryan Taylor. What do you think of Ryan Taylor? Seriously? I want to know.

Now, Ryan certainly takes the prize for the most fouled footballer in Europe. If I saw him in Tesco I wouldn't be surprised to see two shelf-stackers pulling his shirt to stop him from going up the canned fruit aisle. If he was a less honest footballer and learned to fall over when mauled we would have such a plethora of free kicks the ref would run out of spray by the 22nd minute. His positional play is excellent, and he and MacAtee had a good on field relationship last season. But, Ryan – and if he is reading this I hope he doesn't mind me calling him Ryan and not Mr. Taylor – isn't generally much of a goal threat, is he? I'm really not picking on him as he is already a Town hero for the part he played in last year's shenanigans. He just fascinates me as a player.

I'm a centre-forward, though clearly without an ounce of his talent, and I'm a centre-forward because I love scoring goals. If you ever see a big fat bald mess of a middle-aged man hurling himself at ball in the six-yard box in a muddy park it may well be me, because I want to see my name on the scoresheet.

Sometimes I'll do it even if I'm only supposed to be a spectator or I'm just passing by. But does Ryan have that hunger? It's not like he misses a lot of chances, Shop-style. He just isn't getting in there.

When we common people are allowed to entertain ourselves again, I hope Ryan scores an absolute shedload of goals to prove that I'm a know-nothing diarist with the brain of a turtle. Honestly, if he can even get to ten by the end of the season I'll treat him to a fish and chip supper in Steel's INCLUDING Arctic Roll for afters. My friends, if I have any left after this diary, know I'm a tightwad who doesn't make offers like this every day. This is serious stuff.

Quick note to our young reader: Arctic Roll was a popular dessert in the seventies, now found only in Steel’s. It was usually part of the same menu as ham fritters, spam or haslet. When you think about it, it’s not surprising that people had skinnier legs in the seventies. Have you ever seen any footage of glam rock bands? Like tinsel pipe cleaners, their legs were. As an afterthought, look at Dave Hill's fringe in 1973 and now look at Yolanda's fringe in any Die Antwoord video. As Spinal Tap once sang, the more things change, the less they stay the same.

But I'm not here to talk about fringes. Why am I here? Best not to contemplate that question for too long. I will end with a familiar three letter sign-off. 

UTM.