Cod Almighty | Diary

I got it bad, you got it easy

16 August 2023

As with all Town victories, last night's 2-0 triumph over Salford City makes the world a slightly better place. Steps are springier. Dog tails are waggier. Smiling nods exchanged for suspicious eye aversions with strangers in the street result in fewer visits from Old Bill. But Daubney has another reason to be cheerful, it means a right old moan about Salford can be committed to the diary without it sounding like a case of three day old haddock.

What is the point of Salford? Let's start with the ninety away fans who made the trip last night. Do we applaud their loyalty or do we scoff? Neither, for their and our own good, get them back to the pub leagues where they can watch happily from behind a rope with a craft ale in one hand and a nice pie in the other. 

Maybe beyond the rope, they won't have to watch the tedious bunch of anti-footballers they roll out every time we play them. While we ponder 4-4-2 and 4-3-3 Salford just line out as Big-Blokes-Falling-Over. This is the hand which fits snugly inside the glove that is pliant referees who wilt in the presence of celebrity by proxy. Last night's fawner was Peter Wright, a previous recipient of CA's Competent Official Windchimes.

Wrighty, as he's known down the referee social, didn't even make base camp on the steaming Mount Everest of one eyed reffing that is Declan Bourne 2021. But he did enough to show even decent refs can be infected by Sky Sports Sid and his pals.

Celebrity horseshit aside, Salford aren't alone. Crawley? Get rid. Stevenage, aren't they just Crawley in a different kit? In the bin. Fleetwood, Burton, Sutton, Chetenham? We've reached our quota, back in the North Sea with them.

The mere names make the case for the return of re-election. When everyone was clamouring for more promotion places from the Conference last season, Daubney was the sole voice of reason; we need fewer places, we can't risk letting more of these tinpotters in. We've been lucky on a couple of occasions with Borehamwood /Boreham Wood. Do we really want to have to try and remember again which is the town and which is the football club?

We could and should go further, a Reckoning that sends them all back to where they belong and reinstates the 92 who made up the league in 1980, the year when a championship flag last flew over Blundell Park and therefore when football was last perfect. York? Come on in. Darlington, how the hell have you been? Torquay, so great to see you, is that a new set of teeth?

That will have to do you until we get our match report up later. Until then, the official site will have all the usual content with Hursty, as predicted by those in our front room last night, giving it the old "thought we played better when we lost t'other day". We know you by now Paul, you contrary old tease, you.

Spring step your way through the rest of the day and as always, UTM.