Cod Almighty | Diary

Avenue Q

28 July 2023

Good day. BOTB Diary here. Hasn't the weather been awful?

That's the pleasantries over with. There's an interesting thread on The Fishy at the moment (don't act like you're surprised) discussing whether or not Liam Hearn was quick. Like all football supporters I'm sometimes right, sometimes wrong but always certain (©DB2015) and I'd like to have my say recorded. Yes. Yes he was.

There are different types of speed though. Mo Farrah and Usain Bolt are both fast but you wouldn't expect to see them in the same race. What Hearn had, which is a tremendous benefit in a striker – is speed over the first few yards. When car bores talk about a car going from 0 to 60 in 3 seconds, or whatever, they mean it as a good thing.

He had mental speed as well. The thing is, even at non-league level, it's not actually that easy to disengage yourself from a 6ft 3in hairy Herbert with bad breath and no morals whose job it is to make sure you don't get the ball. Remember how often the ball seemed to come to Hearn in the box with no defender near him? That didn't happen by chance, or because the defenders were standing around discussing the latest episode of Ted Lasso; it happened because he was quicker than defenders over the first three yards and was also constantly thinking faster than the blokes whose job it was to stop him.

I remember watching Alan Shearer when Town played Newcastle many years ago and watching his movement. He spent a lot of time getting on the blind side of defenders so as soon as a defender got caught ball watching, even for a second, he would have backed into a little pocket of space. This tactic was clearly unsuccessful that day, however, as he hadn't reckoned on Justin Whittle smacking him in the chops. But, looking at his career as a whole, he did okay.

The polar opposite of Hearn was Michael Reddy, who could outsprint a whole platoon of Rochdale defenders if he started from the halfway line but scored very few messy six-yard box goals, because it took him a few steps to reach full pelt. No-one would deny Reddy was fast but it was a different kind of speed. So, yes, Hearn was fast, and that's the debate over with. You can all put your computers away now. That's it. Off you go. Hang on, get your computer out again. I haven't finished yet.

There is also a thread about how great the new owners are and what a brilliant job they are doing renovating the ground, albeit at Luke Waterfall pace. I absolutely agree, and I am happy to state that the new owners are, to put it in terms even a Krankie could understand, fandabidozee. However, I am BOTB Diary Hear Me Moan, as the song should have said, and I'd like to make a couple of observations.

Firstly, how much does it cost to employ an extra turnstile operator for an hour before kick off? I can't remember which game it was last season (I'm old) but it took me ten minutes to get out of the queue, which at one end could have been confused for the queue for the Filet-o-Fish from Maccies, and into the ground, because the grand total of one turnstile was open. Queues can be interpreted as a sign of success but they are also largely unnecessary. Also, when I have queued at the office to get tickets for cup games last year, and friendlies this year, I have had to wait some time, and my time is exceptionally valuable - that sofa isn't going to sit on itself, is it? If the office was full of staff working their bums off this would be acceptable and again a symptom of success. However, it is irritating when you reach the front of the queue and there is one stressed person trying to deal with the whole population of Grimsby, particularly if it seems to be their first day on the job and they keep having to stop to ask people hovering in the background what a season ticket is and which stand is the Pontoon. Gah.

Right, I'll just look at my check list. Strikers – done. Moaning – done. Pre-season friendlies – you know about those. Excitement about the coming season – I'll do that one next week. Right, you're free to go. Thank you. I've got a morning of valuable time ahead of me. I'm going to sit on a sofa.