Cod Almighty | Diary

Up the Mariners

8 February 2023

The world feels different this morning. For the first time in 27 years, Grimsby Town FC are in the Fifth Round of the Football Association Cup. Breathe it in deep for the next three weeks and savour the anticipation of that March 1st tie with Southampton. Allow Daubney Diary to borrow from his children to tell you he is buzzing.  

How we've yearned for occasions like last night. A night that surely had John McAtee joyously twirling his half and half scarf, even if it meant dejected Crewe fans once again had to cancel their Costa del Clee plans. A night that left the buzzing Daubney lying awake in bed until the early hours trying to absorb it all. Like thousands of Mariners across the world, it was couldn't sleep, didn't want to sleep.

The Gods of Velvet Bags and Transparent Plastic Bowls may have conspired to land us on the brown Monopoly destinations, even spewing up the one tie that would bench our ace in the pack. The starstruck media may barely have registered that we were playing. Years of FA incompetence, feeble One Show clumsiness, and patronising punditry may have attempted to tarnish a rigged competition that will likely bring more silverware for cheating Man City. None of it matters.

The magic of the cup comes from within, and after the drought, Town are creating it in torrents. Like that scary black extra terrestrial goo in the Fifth Element, the more you chuck at us, the stronger it and we get. There's no other way to describe it. The magic touched every heaving rafter of Blundell Park last night. Even the ref got caught in its spell; other than the horsemen of the apocalypse clopping down Imperial Ave, how else can you explain his whistle for a late foul throw against Luton. Look into my eyes, not around the eyes.

We don't need the national media. They're mostly patronising idiots who don't know or care about us. When we end up in their sights it's like watching Anthea Turner get the name of your favourite indie band wrong as she's introducing them on Top of the Pops. Then they squirm for three minutes; in equal parts for miming and their proximity to the Robbie Williams/Bucks Fizz duet warming up on the adjacent stage.

There was a time when Daubney would join in the griping about Wrexham, even in defeat, stealing our headlines. Here's the thing: Wrexham may one day soon cruise past us up the divisions on a diamond encrusted magic carpet. But I wouldn't swap with them. Over to Rich Lord on Twitter: "Just a little observation here, but Wrexham lost when they could've won the league on the last day; they lost the FA Trophy final; they lost their big play-off game; they conceded a late goal v Sheff Utd to set up a replay, which they also lost to late goals." That's interesting, Rich. I'd probably have just said, "Can you really take a team that pays £300k for Ollie Palmer seriously?" but I get your point.

Money will provide Wrexham with a large enough sledgehammer to crack these nuts eventually. More power to the Racecourse when they do. We'll carry on with a team and a manager that is GY through and through. With all the recent transfer window focus on the players who apparently don't want to come here, it's easy to take for granted and forget to celebrate the ones that do.

Ones we know aren't perfect but don't lack spirit or heart when it matters. One that has somehow won seven knockout games out of eight, all against opposition above them in some of the craziest fashions imaginable. In fact, in it's own way, being 3-0 up at half time against a team on the cusp of the Premier League is as unlikely as scoring in the 96th and 119th minutes to win at Notts. Or Max Crocombe being able to bravely overcome the curse of debilitating cramp-riddled legs and forge a career as a footballer.

So get yourself out on your internets and visit the two or three pages you didn't get to at 3am. Watch Hursty's proud little face take you through it again. Goosebump all over again at the roars in the highlights. Lose yoursef in Jon Corken's images from the game. Come for the smack of the post and stay for the Luton fans planning their train home after Danny's third. Walk a little bit taller this morning even though you may be tired and hoarse. The highs are higher when you pull yourselves up from the bottom. We're the famous Grimsby Town and we're off to Wember-lee.

UTM.