Cod Almighty | Diary

I pledge allegiance to blobby blobby blobby!

5 May 2023

BOTB here. On the verge, or as some would say 'cusp', of the last game of a long and eventful season. I'm sure we're all asking ourselves the exact same question. What is the sweatiest music video? Can I put in a vote for Dogs of Lust by The The? Warning: contains scenes of excessive sweating that some people may find offensive.

Hold on, I've thought of another question. Have we had decent weather for a single home game since last Autumn? With the forecast for Monday being pretty dismal, and the April home games having being colder than a penguin's freezer department, the traditional end of season warm and sunny home game with a-summer approachin' looks unlikely to occur. We can only hope that in August we will get the usual home game called off after a torrential downpour in the 17th minute, otherwise weather-rooted tradition has gone out of the window.

Our final showdown game match, against the Wimbledons, takes place at the bizzarro time of 12.30pm on Monday. This is so the whole nation can join in the celebrations tomorrow as our new king is crowned. Many have organised street parties and other such events to mark the special occasion, and the great and good will be there to see the historic moment in person. It will truly be a marvellous spectacle of pomp and circumstance that will unite our fractured nation and give us cause to speak as one land, WI-jam-packed with hope and glory. Sadly, one person who won't be there to see it is King Charles's old friend Jimmy Saville, because he's dead.

It's nearly time for the retained list to be announced. Anyone you want to see kept? It's been a funny old season. Despite a respectable league position and being FA CUP QUARTER BLEEDIN' FINALISTS, there isn't a single player I'd be really upset to see go, except maybe Harry Clifton. I mean, they are all pretty good, and they all do a decent job, but I can't really say that any of them have stood out individually and become legendary figures in our football club's history. Is that a bit mean spirited of me? It's not that I don’t love Waterfall and Holohan and Green and the rest, but no-one strikes me as irreplaceable. There. I've said it. And I'll stand by it as well until someone disagrees with me, when I'll crumble like an old cheese and admit that I have been unduly miserable and I will apologise profusely.

The Wimbledons are on a bad run of form and we must be optimistic of ending the season with a decent display. The Wimples, as they like to be known, tend to get a good press around these parts simply by not being MK Bastards. Of course, we would all like to see Wimbledon ultimately overtake the odious franchise wankbadgers in league terms, but it isn't going to happen this season, so we might as well put them to the sword, end on a win, and bollocks to them.

Next Saturday we will all, of course, say how relaxing Saturday afternoons are without a Town match to worry about. By the following Saturday afternoon we will be bored witless, and by the one after that we will be planning to travel to Binbrook Athletic on a Monday night for our first pre-pre-pre-season friendly. That's football for you. It gets in your soul and stays there, for good or ill.

Anyway, the temperature's rising, slowly, and soon will come the period when diarists yammer on about sweaty music videos because there is nothing else to write about. Bet you can't wait.

Ashes Test Series this summer, though. Ooh, suits us, sir. Ooh. Ooh.