Cod Almighty | Diary

Turn out the lights

12 April 2024

Hello. My name is BOTB diary.

I know I'm not exactly saying the unsaid here, but hasn't this season been awful? The humiliating home defeats, the period where we decided to pass it across our own six-yard box slowly for ten minutes at a time, the atrocious set pieces performed with the conviction of six-year-olds in a nativity play, that complete wanker of a lino at Sutton without whom we would have been pretty much safe by now, the war in Ukraine.

We've had worse teams before, but the way we've managed to just bobble above the relegation zone all season, pulling away, falling back, pulling away, falling back, has to be the worst thing for the nerves of the average sensitive football supporter. Never bad enough to lose hope, never good enough to rest easy, it's been like watching a much-loved relative walking on a tightrope. Now - come on, Granny! – they are nearly at the end but you know a single gust of wind or a sneeze from the audience will have them falling into the sawdust.

I suspect Sutton may win at Harrogate because the spa-botherers are one of those awful teams who will always beat you and then lose to your relegation rivals, almost as though they are trying to spite you. With the Stripeys facing a tough-looking fixture at The World Class Wreckin' Crewe, as they like to be known, I suspect the mental torture is set to continue for a while yet. Oh joy.

Life in the Conference/Bananarama/National may seem superficially appealing at this stage – you get to win some games and go home happy on a Saturday night. The thing is, though, beating nothing isn't an achievement. We could get relegated to the fourth division of the Help the Aged Over Eighties Unidexter League and win every match, but it still wouldn't inspire pride and satisfaction in the Stripey bosom.

Football is the ultimate meritocracy on the pitch and being top of the conference is very much like winning a tallest dwarf competition. The younger generations of Town fans only know the thrill of promotion via our two successful seasons climbing out of the Conference. For us dusty old fans, for whom teams like Brentford, Watford, West Ham and Brighton were normal fixtures, getting out of non-league feels a bit like climbing out of a dustbin. Yes, it's nice to be out. But the big question is what the hell were we doing there in the first place.

Obviously our glorious and long-suffering away supporters will be at the WCWC tomorrow cheering us on. There are only two weeks of the season to go and our fate is unsealed, so they travel in a caravan of trepidation and hope. Maybe our luck will change. Maybe a linesman will make a basic error in our favour. Maybe we will get a competent ref. Hang on, I seem to have wandered into the realms of the fantastical.

But what can we do? We just buy season tickets and shout a bit. Like I'm about to do now, in a written format. COME ON TOWN! STAY UP FFS!