Cod Almighty | Diary

Everybody talk about - pop music

5 April 2023

The excitement of this season's Stripey watching has finally got to the key members of the CA team, and they have all gone to lie down on lavender-scented pillows to recuperate. As a consequence it's down to me, BOTB, to fill this space with rannygazoo until the more serious writers return.

I've very quickly realised how lucky I am to do a weekend diary, because there is usually a game on the near horizon for me to wrongly predict the score of. But, aha, Easter is nearly upon us and we will be playing on the curiously-named Good Friday so I can at least mention the forthcoming footballfest without too much reaching.

What's that, Hartlepool? You've sold out your allocation and will be bringing a thousand fans? Why? Oh yes, of course, this is a big game for you in your battle against relegation. We used to worry about that, a few weeks ago. Oh no, we're fine now, thanks for asking. Safely in mid-table. Just here for the laughs now, really. Yeah. Might as well go along and have a looksee.

Actually, Hartlepool was one of the few away games I've managed to see this season and I still feel a burst of irritation when I think of it. For those who didn't witness the crime, Hartlepool were laughably hapless and we cruised through with a 1-0 lead and a pile of fluffy cushions until inexplicably becoming as bad as they were in the last ten minutes and conceding twice. Revenge would be sweet. Mind you, like most Town fans my dream relegatees would be Crawley and, of course, Cheltenham, even though they aren't even in this division. Hartlepool and Rochdale, whilst in footballing terms still technically the enemy, are good solid old clubs who belong in the league.

Am I alone in feeling bad for Scunthorpe? What's the point in local rivalry if your rivals are so far below you they become invisible? I'd rather be playing them than Stevenage any day. Yes, every ten years or so they might fluke a victory against us but surely that's a small price to pay for keeping local tensions boiling. Football at our level – you'll be shocked and amazed to hear – isn't as good as premiership football and the tribal elements and local pride become even more important. We're Grimsby – not London, New York, Paris, Munich – and we have a role, which is to beat Scunthorpe and upset bigger more fashionable teams who think they are better than we are, whilst all the time shaking an inflatable haddock and ruining other peoples' parties. We are Town. That's what we do.

Normal service will hopefully be resumed next Tuesday. In the meantime, tomorrow's diarist definitely isn't me, so that’s something to look forward to - as well as a weekend full of eggs, football, buns and irritatingly cold winds along the seafront. And let's hope on Friday we ease to victory. Easter victory? No? Oh well, suit yourselves.