Cod Almighty | Diary

Woods, you're an enigma!

14 July 2023

Last night I found myself in the same room as GTFC legend Neil Woods, doing a pub quiz. I'm pretty sure his team didn't win, because I heard them after the quiz complaining about the question relating to cockroach milk. Our team got the question about cockroach milk right.

This wasn't a dream, or Bob Mortimer on Would I Lie to You, but a truthful representation of last night's events. Yes, indeedy. 

Life has been weird, recently. Glitches in the matrix all over the place. Tomorrow's pre-season friendly against Hull kicks off at 3pm and will be in four quarters of half an hour each. I'm sorry, what? When did the game of football become something you could piss about with according to whim? Why don't we play 18 players a side or use a square ball? After all it's only a pre-season friendly. We could allow players to handle it or use semi-automatic weapons. They could dress as clowns or ride around on horseback. If you're going to turn it into a circus you may as well go the whole damn hog.

It's only £12 to get in, and I daresay everybody wants to cast a judgmental eye over the new signings, but I for one feel irritated that what is billed as a pre-season friendly is clearly going to be a training routine stretched over a two-hour period. I'm tempted to boycott. I won't though. I'll be there, moaning. That's the Grimsby way.

The weather forecast looks a bit pants. One of the joys of a pre-season friendly is strolling casually along the Grimsby Road in shorts and a tee-shirt, knowing that whatever happens has no bearing on the league table or anything else. In drama, weather is often used, like music, as a fitting accompaniment to the events that are taking place centre stage. During calm interludes the sun will gently shine upon the budding bough, whereas turbulent affairs of the heart or danger will be accompanied by storm clouds, hurricanes and torrential downpours. Tomorrow looks windy and wet, which is all wrong for a two-hour training routine, and I hope the weather gods are ashamed of themselves. Nobody, except ace match reporter Tony Butcher, wants to go to a pre-season friendly in a coat. But then he'd go to a sunbathing competition in a coat.

Talking of the great man, anyone who hasn't yet read his article about the finances of football clubs is missing out on a treat. He knows what he's talking about. I dream of writing an intelligent and well-informed article on football instead of this nonsense, but sadly my areas of expertise are largely irrelevant to football. Although, one night match in late August, under floodlights, I did see a nightjar land on the pitch. If you don't know what I'm talking about that's fine, but if you do, that's an interesting story. I promise.

Right, I'm off for a glass of cockroach milk and a lie down. What's the score going to be tomorrow? Who knows. It's a funny old game. Best team on the day. A game of four halves.

UTM.